There were few parents prouder than Fëanor Finwion, and few who loved their own more fiercely. So great was Fëanor's love that even after having five sons, he craved more children that he could spoil. And so it was that when Curufin grew into a young ellon, Fëanor and Nerdanel were in the forge one day and Fëanor said, "We should have more."
Nerdanel sighed. "Is five not enough for thee, Fëanáro? We already have much more than most of our kind, save thy brother."
Fëanor made a sad face, with eyes like that of a wounded puppy. Nerdanel could never resist that face. "One more? Just one more? Please?"
Nerdanel and Fëanor lay together, weaving their magic about them to conceive. Nerdanel's flow was late, weeks later, and Fëanor was pleased.
As the months went on, her belly swelled, as it had before, but this time, greater. At last when there was movement, Nerdanel felt two kicks at once, instead of one.
The twins came out screaming, one grasping the ankle of the other. When the birth was done, and Fëanor held his new sons, he felt his wife's eyes like daggers.
"Just one more, thou didst say," Nerdanel scolded.
"I may have gotten a bit carried away."
_
Days after the birth, it came time to name them. Nerdanel chose the name Ambarussa... for both boys.
Fëanor frowned. "Nerdanel, my love, thou canst not name them both the same thing."
Saith the man who names all his sons Finwë. "Thou didst say just one more."
_
Ah 2019, the days when certain people made me think it was mandatory to use archaic English in Tolkien fic...
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