#she willed herself to be taller than Blue ( she was always the shortest) and she fucking got it

[a-tale-of-legends]

In which R can never fully decide how tall these fuckers are ft an somewhat accurate depiction of how I see them in my head.

[jasontoddiefor]

Chapter 7 of As Lightning to the Children eased or as I like to call it: Dooku gets his shit together.

Dooku didn't know how, but Shmi Skywalker had known that something had happened to her child before the call of the Council had even reached them. She had looked up in the middle of her katas, paling rapidly. Dooku had heard of Masters sensing their Padawans' distress before, had experienced such with his own reckless students, but never with such intensity and days' travel in hyperspace away from his children. Still, Shmi continued with her tasks with the same dedication as before her foreboding and did not panic when they got the actual notification two weeks later, telling them that Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Qui-Gon Jinn were already back on Coruscant, apparently all in a miserable condition.

Padawan Skywalker the elder's stance on the whole situation caused Dooku to reconsider his rude behavior during their first meeting. She had known that something was terribly wrong, had felt it deep in her bones when no one else had, and yet she had endured, done her Master proud, and fulfilled their mission first. When they arrived back at the temple, a place Dooku had been away from for too long as he had forgotten the warmth of its embrace, she dutifully made her report to the Council, under the many concerned eyes of the assembled Masters. And only when she had finished her statement, answered all questions, she excused herself and left to visit her son.

If anyone still doubted her place in their order after these actions, Dooku wouldn't hesitate to challenge them himself for her honor, though given her quick wit and skill with the blade, she'd hardly need anyone to fight her battles.

Shmi didn't ask him if he wanted to come with her, but she also didn't stop him when he fell into step with her. She smiled at him, kindly as if she were his Crèchemaster, ready to console him, and not a Padawan as they silently walked to the halls of healing.

Dooku hadn't been there when the Skywalkers had joined the temple, but he had heard of the impossible terror that was Shmi's child.

Yet, somehow, all those rumors couldn't compare to meeting him in person. He looked innocent and human enough, sleeping in his Master's arms, a small togruta child stretched across the both of them. Then, suddenly, he woke and within the blink of an eye, Dooku found himself pinned against a wall, electric blue eyes focused on him with previously unknown intensity.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan was awake a second later, holding down his student's arm as if that could lessen the pressure on Dooku's chest. "Anakin, stop it, we're home, it's alright."

Disorientated, the child blinked at Dooku, curiosity and confusion entering his gaze as if he were seeing Dooku for the first time. Then whatever might have kept him in a chokehold, stopped and the boy fell back into his Master's arms.

"Obi-Wan?" Anakin sounded puzzled when he spoke up. His voice was rough as if he hadn't spoken in days.

"Hello, Anakin." Though Dooku knew that his grandpadawan was hardly older than twenty-five, the exhaustion wearing him down made him look decades older. "Are you awake now?"

Anakin tilted his head. "Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

A shadow passed over Obi-Wan's face. "No reason. Do you know who is visiting us?"

More hastily than before, Anakin's head whipped around and turned into the direction Shmi was standing in. "Mom!" he exclaimed and, after carefully pushing the third child off his lap, he jumped out of bed to rush to his mother. He hugged her tightly, burying his face in her robes. "Mom, I missed you."

Shmi Skywalker, showing no sign of fear, worry, confusion or anything such as that about her son's earlier actions, only embraced him just as tightly.

"I missed you too, Anakin," Shmi said and kissed the top of his head.

Anakin didn't let go of her, but his eyes drifted to the lightsaber clipped to her belt. Without another word, Shmi took it from the belt and handed Anakin the blade. Anakin examined it closely, ran his fingers across the metal hilt before handing it back to his mother. "Your crystals sound nice. I like them."

"I'm glad."

As mother and son continued talking, Dooku managed to get to his feet, still shaken by the assault the others pointedly ignored. He crossed the distance to the bed Obi-Wan and the now yawning youngling were lying on and sat down on it. He disliked showing such weakness, but he couldn't exclude the possibility that his legs might not hold him upright should he continue to stand.

"What was that?" he asked.

Obi-Wan sighed and the youngling whose presence Dooku could not quite explain sat up and gently patted his cheeks, making the young man smile.

"It's a reflex, mostly," Obi-Wan explained. "Anakin isn't quite over what happened yet and lashes out when he thinks we are threatened by something or someone he doesn't recognize."

Obi-Wan's elaboration failed to clear anything up and if the boy didn't look like he hadn't slept in a week, Dooku would claim he was purposefully misdirecting. "We are in the Jedi temple. What is there here that he fears?"

What had Dooku done that Anakin assumed his own lineage would attack him?

The look Obi-Wan was giving him was downright chilling, damning, before it slowly turned into incredulity. "I thought that was why Shmi— You don't sense it, do you?"

He sounded flabbergasted.

"No," Dooku said. "What is there to sense?"

Discomfort and wariness settled in the air, so heavy that Dooku was reminded of the invisible hands around his neck.

"The taint, the poison, the rot clinging to your light," Obi-Wan said slowly. "The darkness."

It sounded like judgement.

X

The first thing Qui-Gon recognized was noise.

It was loud around him, familiar voices speaking out. When he tried to open his eyes, he found the task impossibly challenging. He fought against the voice telling him to rest a little longer, that he didn't have to wake quite yet, but Qui-Gon had always been a stubborn one, unwilling to follow orders he deemed unnecessary.

"Master!"

When light began to fill his vision, Qui-Gon looked into the face of his worried Padawan, missing his braid and looking as distraught as Qui-Gon had seldom seen him before.

"Obi-Wan?" he tried to say, but his voice wasn't cooperating, so whatever left his mouth, it couldn't have been his apprentice's name.

"It's me, Master, yes." Obi-Wan understood him anyway, clever and wise as he was. Qui-Gon had given his Padawan a much too difficult time when he had still been his student and not a Knight of his own regard. He could hardly imagine being any prouder of Obi-Wan than he already was

"Master Qui-Gon!"

His vision became clearer and allowed for him to see Anakin and Ahsoka sitting just beside him on the bed, Shmi behind them and there, right next to her—

"Master."

"Save your strength, Qui-Gon," his Master urged him. If Obi-Wan had looked distressed, Dooku appeared downright hysterical. Qui-Gon was quite ready to believe this was all a hallucination now. As far as he knew, his Master had sworn off returning to the temple for at least another decade and even if he were here, he certainly wouldn't seek out Qui-Gon, no matter how injured.

"Rest some more," the imitation of his Master said. For just the shortest of moments, Qui-Gon was reminded of the time he had been a youngling just a few months older than Anakin and Dooku, not even quite Obi-Wan's age then, had panicked over his sickness. It had only been a mild cold, not the blinding hot pain chaining him to the bed now, but Dooku had told him to rest then with just the same cadence and care.

"Everything will be better after you've slept."

The illusion said the same words as his Master had then and just for that alone, Qui-Gon was inclined to believe him, even if he couldn't sense him, sense any of them properly.

Qui-Gon didn't know how much time passed between the intervals he was actually closer to consciousness and those he was inaccessible to the world. It felt like centuries passed within the blink of an eye. Regardless, whenever he woke, Dooku was there, dutifully sitting at his side as if Qui-Gon were still a child. It was reassuring anyhow.

The morning Qui-Gon woke and didn't feel like he needed to drop right back to sleep, he was greeted by the image of Dooku reading while the children were playing some board games on the bed next to his.

Qui-Gon decided to observe them just a minute longer before he spoke up.

"Am I dreaming, Master?"

Dooku immediately dropped the datapad and the others stopped their game, Qui-Gon's voice breaking this strange atmosphere.

"Qui-Gon!" it came from all sides. "Are you alright?"

He felt half-blind as if he had lost a sense he had always taken for granted, but, staring into the guilt-ridden expression of Anakin, he realized that lying had never been easier. "Yes, of course. What did I miss?"

From the look his lineage was giving him, quite a lot.

X

Ahsoka was young, but she wasn't stupid.

"What happened?" she asked Obi-Wan. The real adults wouldn't tell her anything for sure, but Obi-Wan just might because he was Anakin's the same way she was Anakin's, and he was theirs, and that was all that mattered. "Anakin is different."

He was hurting, though he tried to hide it. His pain and his fear scared him, which in turn only upset Ahsoka. She wanted everyone to be happy and healthy, but the world had shifted when she hadn't been there and it hurt.

"I—" Obi-Wan hesitated, so Ahsoka crossed her arms in front of her chest like she had seen Shmi do when she wanted to know something and nobody was willing to tell her. It made Ahsoka feel taller and more grown-up. Obi-Wan would have to tell her the truth.

"I want to know," she repeated. "Now."

Obi-Wan studied her for a few moments longer, then he sighed. "Anakin did something very foolish and difficult and Qui-Gon did something just as stupid and now everything is a mess."

Ahsoka could tell that he was trying not to use big words with her, but it only felt like he was attempting to get away with saying less.

"What did they do?" Ahsoka asked. "I want to know."

The need was pulsating under her skin, edging her on, licking at her arms like hot flames, urging to demand and not stop until she had forced the truth from his mouth, the ugly thing that was closing his throat.

"Anakin saw something really, really bad and dark," Obi-Wan said. "So Qui-Gon helped him forget that."

"But isn't that good?"

Ahsoka thought it was. It should be. If Qui-Gon took away what had hurt Anakin, then Anakin was going to be better now. That was how helping others worked. The others always said so; Shmi did too. The more you helped, the more did the galaxy heal.

"Yes, technically speaking, but… You know how the Force gives us warnings?"

Yes, of course, she did. Everyone always said to listen to the Force for their knowledge, but the Force had never warned her before she had stubbed her toe, so she wasn't entirely sold on that yet.

"The memories Qui-Gon hid from Anakin were such a warning, so now we don't know what the Force was warning us from and since they are so well hidden to protect him, Anakin won't be able to recognize the danger again when he sees it."

Oh. That really did sound bad. "Did he anything do something stupid then to get back the memories?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, Anakin decided to break the Force a little to keep Qui-Gon here longer."

Ahsoka wondered whether that was the reason Qui-Gon's wound was healing so slowly and no pain medication truly helped. He tried to hide it, but Ahsoka's nose and eyes were better than humans'. She saw him tense, could smell the sickness. Ahsoka bit her lip. "Is that why Qui-Gon's Force is all messed up?"

She didn't know how to describe it in a better way. It felt a little as if Qui-Gon was made up out of strings and someone had cut them and then tied the ropes back together clumsily in haste, leaving a net that could catch his soul, but was incredibly messy.

"A little. There's no telling what messing around with the Force like Anakin did."

(And they wouldn't know for a long while what it meant to force something to live. No matter how good the intentions at that moment, the residue of his actions left Maul awake, alive, alight in the dark side, and screaming.)

"Is he going to be okay again?" Ahsoka asked.

When Obi-Wan didn't reply immediately, she climbed back into his lap and let him wrap his arms around her. Jedi were the happiest when they weren't cold, and her family felt as if they needed a lot of warmth.

"I hope so," Obi-Wan replied. "I really do hope so."

X

For the first time since he had gotten his first gray hair, Qui-Gon actually felt old. He was tired all the time and his control over the Force was atrocious and depended on the time of day, what he had eaten for breakfast, the weather, and whether somewhere halfway across Coruscant somebody had totaled their Speeder, or so it felt to him at least. There was no rhyme or rhythm to whether he could use the Force at all and what his control over it was, not even as his body recovered.

His gut wound hadn't healed entirely yet, and he continued to be haunted by its phantom pains. He knew that it hurt Anakin, that he felt guilty, so Qui-Gon tried to avoid showing any of these weaknesses around the boy, but Anakin was an intelligent child and he noticed it anyway. Qui-Gon wondered if Anakin's sudden clinginess and paranoia resulted from his actions, actions he now had to justify himself for.

"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to sit?" Plo asked.

Qui-Gon wanted to reply with words as sharp as the edge of a knife, but he shouldn't. Plo was asking him out of worry and because they were friends, not to belittle him or point out his discomfort to him.

"I'm quite sick of sitting and lying down," Qui-Gon confessed. It hurt to admit this weakness, was he fully his Master's Padawan in this aspect, and against what his heart was telling him, he forced himself to say it out loud. "But a chair would be appreciated."

They got a chair for him and so Qui-Gon sat in front of the assembled Council, laying his mind bare for them to see and judge.

"Obi-Wan's report states that Padawan Skywalker had a breakdown as you boarded the ship to Naboo again. Is this correct?"

"Yes."

"And following this breakdown, you put a heavy mind block on him. Is this true as well?"

"Yes," Qui-Go replied, or maybe it would be more correct to claim he apologized.

He didn't regret saving Anakin then. It had come at a high price, his own mind still bleeding where he had cut himself on the kyber crystals of Anakin's soul, but he regretted that it had come to this at all. Trifling with a mind like this was nothing that could be taken lightly, and had the Council not asked to see him, Qui-Gon would have accused them of negligence. "I saw no other choice."

"What did you saw in his mind that forced you to act like this?" Mace asked.

"I saw a reflection of his own state of being, I suppose." His words sounded stuporous, too carelessly chosen, but he didn't know how else to describe this feeling. The more he attempted to elaborate on what he had seen, the more he realized that their language lacked the terms he needed

"I don't think the Force was meant to be anything more than something that binds the world together," Qui-Gon declared. "But Anakin… His existence defies that. He is the Force incarnate and it hurts him, subconsciously. The Force is endless and in Anakin, they have to constrain themself to a body with mortal limits, a fact which unsettles him down to his core when he becomes aware of it. From my observations, which I fail to describe accurately here and I fear to share with the state of my own mind and control, merely having consciousness is unsuitable for a being such as Anakin. We have all heard the voice of the Force, its call and its will, but it doesn't want as we do, as mortals might."

"But Anakin does," Plo continued his thought. "So you have the Force turned sentient, which goes against everything they ever were before, and suddenly they have to deal with the fact that Anakin has wants and needs that go beyond that of his parent."

"Yes," Qui-Gon agreed. "I think – or at least the way Anakin perceived it – the Force is shackling themself with his existence, in his existence. He became aware of it through a factor I have not yet determined, and that resulted in his breakdown."

"And so you decided to cover up these shackles."

"I did."

It was the only way he could have stopped Anakin from self-destructing.

X

The Force had shifted for the third time in less than a decade after so many years of slowly eroding away.

It was strange. Where once it was clouded, twisted, and shadowed as his Master and his Master's Master had crafted it, there was a rift now, a clearing.

It was shedding light on objects that should not be seen.

Darth Sidious pulled the shadows closer around himself and, throwing one last glance at his Master's dead body, decided to investigate.

He had need for an apprentice.

[punkinroses]

Alright! Round two of the next generation(s) for the Zutara au I eventually want to write. The last post detailed Zuko and Kataras kids and grandkids. So, I feel it fitting to address the next batch of them with the

Sukka Kids

Yue: The eldest daughter of Sokka and Suki, she has risen to become the current elected chief of the Southern Water Tribe. Charismatic, strong willed and kind, she lives up not only to the legacy of her parents, but also her namesake. She's someone who has been doing the best she can for her people and the growth of their Tribe and has been currently been in meetings to figure out which is the best route for her people, fully uniting with their Northern sister tribe or to gain full independence, or if their current compromise is beneficial to her people. The biggest shock of her parents life came when she showed to be a Waterbender, something that was much to the delight of her Aunt Katara. Yue has many of her aunts softer features, but has her fathers dark brown hair, blue eyes and darker skin. She keeps her long hair braided back in a thick plait and has it kept with a blue band with a Water Tribe charm attached to it.

Her husbands name is Kenai. He is the son of one of the council Elders who fell head over heels for Yue when they were just teenagers and was constantly trying to win her affections. She soon found herself falling for him and after a long, grueling grilling from Sokka, the two would be married. He's an equal partner and counselor to her over political matters and he also runs his own restaurant that serves traditional Southern Water Tribe cuisine, along with occasional specialties he's picked up from his Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation in laws. He's got long, dark brown hair, and greyish blue eyes and has been growing out his stubble as of late.

Their eldest child is their son Haku. He, like his mother, is very charismatic and strong willed, and he's also a social butterfly. He's focused on making strong connections with others as a show of leadership, and maybe flirting with the men and women of the Water Tribe he finds attractive. His parents are very determined to teach him leadership qualities while also letting him enjoy his youth while he can. He has dark brown hair done in a warriors wolf tail, much like his Grandpa Sokkas, bright blue eyes and he finds it quite funny that hes taller than his parents. He also has a tattoo on his upper left arm and wears Sokkas necklace.

Their middle child is their daughter, Eira. Eira was born deaf and uses sign language to speak, though she also knows how to read lips, and has also learned how to express herself through her waterbending. She actually wants to be a waterbending instructor for the younger generation, while also making art from her ice sculptors. She loves really stupid jokes and is a self proclaimed Penguin sledding champion. She also has recently gotten very into photography and is always taking pictures at family get togethers. Her hair actually hangs down freely and she has a couple strands done in her familys signature "hair loopies" and her eyes shine brightly and she loves the new dresses and jewelry her Aunt Kaguya brings her from her travels.

Their youngest children are the twins Kallik and Kari. The twins are quite frankly polar opposites. Kallik is very much a social butterfly like his brother and never knows a stranger. He wants to always run head first into adventure and be a great warrior and adventurer like his grandfather. Kari, on the other hand, likes to be kept to her own devices and is quite sarcastic, but she loves to read and invent. She wants her inventions to make a difference in the world, she just has to learn how to get them on a grander scale. Kalliks hair is always done up in a man bun, and Karis is done into pigtails with her bangs falling over one eye. They also have birthmarks on the opposite shoulder for each of them.

Aylin: The second born daughter, she has the heart of a true warrior. Aylin has trained hard to become not only just a Kyoshi Warrior, but one to lead her elite group and become a head guard to the President of Republic City, while also helping her younger sister run the training school. She's what she claims to be the most "sensible and logical" out of her sisters and believes there's reason behind everything and that anyone can rise up to be as strong and as capable as they put the effort into. She's also got every bit of her father's sarcastic personality. And with it all comes a strong sense of justice and a lot of influence from the story of Avatar Kyoshi. Like her parents, she's a nonbender but is heavily proficient in her fans, hand to hand combat and sword fighting, though she relies mostly on her fans. She has dark reddish brown hair kept in short, blue eyes and a slightly lighter complexion than Yue and is actually the shortest of her sisters.

Aylin has a girlfriend who is a metalbender named Ikue. Ikue, like her girlfriend, has a strong sense of justice and wanting to see a better world. She also uses that to her advantage when she wants to bring home stray animals by saying "It's the right thing to do to give them a home." Ikue works at a library in Republic City and believes knowledge is a great and essential tool in making a good world. She's also just waiting for the time to pop the question to Aylin or for her to do it, wanting to truly settle down.

Mahina: The third born daughter, she, like Aylin, followed their mothers footsteps into becoming a Kyoshi Warrior and is the head teacher at the dojo in Sukis home village on Kyoshi Island. She loves being a teacher more than anything, as she's able to guide the next generation of young women to being the best warriors they can be. And she loves telling horrible jokes to them to keep the smiles on their face and moral high when they feel like they're hitting a slump. She's a very playful and big hearted person, but can also prove to be just as deadly a warrior as Aylin and Suki. Her preferred weapon is the sword but she also was passed down her fathers beloved boomerang that she will frequently use. She's got a light olive complexion, a more muscular build, short brown hair and brown eyes, as well as her fathers cheekbones.

Mahina has only been married to her husband, Jian, for a year and they have recently announced they're expecting their first child. Jian is a hardworking soul and works as a merchant in their small town, selling not only custom jewelry, but very detailed and well made swords, knives and the works. They first met because of his work and for them it was love at first sight. He's very dedicated to his growing family and is very proud. He is a bit clumsy and socially awkward however.

Kaguya: The youngest daughter, Kaguya was always her fathers baby in a sense (though he loved all of the girls equally). She chose a different road than her sisters, and instead decided to follow her passion of poetry and music. Kaguya has become a famous singer and pipa player across the world and loves spreading her passion. She's very famous for her own spin on Don't Fall in Love with the Travelling Girl, Leaves From the Vine, and the revival of a shanty from Avatars Kyoshis time simply titled Work Shanty. She also has her own original works that have become very popular amongst the people. She's the most softspoken out of her sisters, and they argue she's the most spoiled, and she likes indulging in the life she's worked hard to gain. She dresses in the latest fashions and loves representing both her heritages with blues and greens. She's got long reddish brown hair, blue eyes and a slightly darker complexion than Mahina.

Kaguya claims she has no desire nor time for ever settling down with someone, and considers her nieces and nephews to be like her own children. She has actually discovered she is infertile after a particular couple of scares from flings but she is quite fine with that. It just means she can focus more on her real baby, music!

[curufins-smile]

Speed Dating For Scientists

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

Or, Curvo needs a baby mama and he needs one now.

(Pure crack - this is my attempt to reconcile my aroace curvo hcs with him having a wife and son)

-

Tyelkormo can’t believe his ears at first.

“I’m sorry, you want to what?” he blurts to an unfazed Curufinwë.

“I said, I want to have a baby,” Curufinwë repeats, “so that I can be Atar’s favourite son.”

“No, you’re going to have to elaborate on that,” states Tyelkormo, “because I still have no clue what you mean.”

Curufinwë sighs impatiently. “I want to be Atar’s favourite-“

“And you’re telling this to me, your direct competition?” Tyelkormo says, slightly incredulous. “Besides, you know Atar doesn’t play favourites.” Really, he shouldn’t be surprised. Curufinwë has always been competitive. Especially about their father.

Curufinwë raises an eyebrow. “Yes, Atar gives us all equal love, but I have a plan to get the most.”

“Again, aren’t I competition?” Tyelkormo asks, feeling slightly insulted.

“Well, are you?” Curufinwë replies.

“Not really, but still it’d be nice to be considered as much!”

“There, there, Turco,” his awful little brother says, “you’re such a threat I hadn’t even thought of a plot to surpass you.”

“That’s better,” Tyelkormo says. He lets Curufinwë get away with too much, probably, but it’s too late to do anything about it. “So, why would having a baby help that?”

Curufinwë sighs, “Honestly, can’t you guess?” Tyelkormo levels an unimpressed stare at him, and Curufinwë continues, “Fine! What does Atar love? Children! What does Atar want more than anything but won’t say for fear of putting undue pressure on us? Grandchildren! Therefore, I shall present him with the long awaited First Grandchild and thus be the favourite forever.”

It’s a typical Curufinwë scheme, grand goal, excellent reasoning but with a big hole that sinks the whole thing.

“You need another person for that,” says Tyelkormo, “unless your genius has far surpassed Atar’s and you have found a way to reproduce without the aid of another.”

Curufinwë waves him off. “Not to worry, I have a plan.”

-

“This is the worst plan,” says Tyelkormo. Next to him, Irissë is not even bothering to hide her guffaws of laughter.

“S-so,” she says, attempting to compose herself, “you’re just going to ask a woman if you can,” she pauses, struggling to control her giggles, “use her uterus?” She loses the battle and collapses into laughter once more.

“Yes,” says Curufinwë. “Why, is there something wrong with that?”

“Is there something right with that?” Tyelkormo murmurs under his breath, setting Irissë off in a fresh fit of giggles.

“Why wouldn’t she want to participate in making a baby? I’ll compensate her,” Curufinwë says.

“That’s even worse!” Tyelkormo cries.

“How is that worse?” Curufinwë says, and Tyelkormo honestly cannot believe he’s this dim about relationships.

Tyelkormo sighs. It’s not even worth the battle. “So, that aside, what are you even looking for in a wife? What sort of personality, what sort of appearance is your type?” He knows Curufinwë well enough to know that his brother will have at least some thoughts on this to help the painful process that this is guaranteed to be.

Curufinwë reaches into his pocket and pulls out an honest to Eru list and Tyelkormo really hasn’t had enough to drink to deal with this. He takes the list from Curufinwë and stares at his brother’s scrawled handwriting.

“I hope you aren’t planning on wooing her with sweet letters,” Tyelkormo remarks. “Your handwriting is awful as always.”

Irissë peers over his arm at the list and grins. “Wow, I had no idea Curvo had such bad handwriting,” she says. “You wouldn’t think your father would let him get away with it.”

“Sadly, Atar allowed Curvo to get away with far too much as a kid, and now he’s got awful handwriting, terrible sleep habits and won’t eat most things.”

They both look up at Curufinwë, who is impervious to shame. “Yes, and?” he says. “Anyway, my handwriting isn’t important. What’s important is on the list.”

Years of practice means that Tyelkormo is pretty good at decoding Curufinwë’s handwriting. “Let’s see... Noldo, preferably taller than you- really?”

“Well, I would like for our child to outgrow me,” says Curufinwë, the shortest of the Finwëans by some margin.

“Well, at least that’s not a difficult demand to fulfil,” says Tyelkormo in amusement. “Hmmm... pleasing facial symmetry?”

“I want our child to be beautiful, is that so wrong?” Curufinwë replies, without a single trace of embarrassment.

“No, but people don’t usually say it so... bluntly,” Tyelkormo says. Irissë is laughing again, and has sunk down onto a bench, clutching her stomach.

“How on earth do they make their wishes known?” Curufinwë asks, guilelessly. Too guilelessly.

“Is this a joke?” Tyelkormo asks suspiciously.

“No, but I’m not that stupid,” Curufinwë says. “I wasn’t going to show her _this_ list.”

Tyelkormo breathes a sigh of relief, then starts as he realises what Curufinwë said. “What do you mean, this list.”

“Well, of course I have an indepth list of questions in order to determine her suitability as the mother of my child,” says Curufinwë. “I need to make sure that she has the intellect in order to ensure that our baby is an intelligent and creative child, as deserving of Atar’s first grandchild.”

Irissë is just gasping now, completely in hysterics. Tyelkormo half wants to laugh, half wants to cry. It’s just all so peak Curufinwë.

“Anyway,” continues Curufinwë, “I came here to ask Irissë if she knows anyone suitable.”

Tyelkormo glances down at Irissë who is beginning to compose herself. “Do you know anyone?”

Irissë sits up, wiping tears from her eyes. “I don’t really, but Elenwë might.”

Curufinwë stiffens almost unnoticeably, and Tyelkormo grins. “Oh, but she might tell Turukáno, no?” he says, deliberately glancing at Curufinwë.

“It’s a sacrifice I am willing to make,” says Curufinwë through gritted teeth.

-

Elenwë comes through with a friend of a friend who might be interested in meeting Curufinwë, and who might be acceptable to Curufinwë’s exacting criteria.

They meet for the first time in one of Tirion’s leafy parks. Tyelkormo is, of course, lurking in a tree to watch. This is guaranteed to be amusing no matter what happens. Carnistir is next to him on a sturdy branch.

“Why have you brought your knitting?” Tyelkormo hisses.

“I don’t know how long this will take,” Carnistir whispers, calmly finishing a row, “and I want to make something for the baby. Poor kid is already going to be Curvo’s, it may as well have a cosy blanket.”

“There is no baby yet!” Tyelkormo whispers back.

“It doesn’t hurt to prepare,” Carnistir replies, unconcerned. “Anyway, she’s here.”

The lady is much more striking than she is beautiful, with hawkish blue eyes and hair tied back into a severe plait to keep it out of her face. She also has about a head on Curufinwë in terms of height.

“So,” she says, and Tyelkormo and Carnistir do not need to strain to hear her clear, enunciated words, “you are the one who wants to use my uterus.”

Tyelkormo nearly falls out of the tree and has to grab onto a similarly stricken Carnistir.

“My name is Costamë,” she continues, “and yes, ‘Quarreller’ is an accurate description of me. Now, shall we discuss the details of our planned association?”

Next to Tyelkormo, Carnistir swears. “Somehow Curvo has managed to find the female version of himself.”

Tyelkormo nods in agreement, slightly dazed.

Beneath them, a strange contract is being hashed out. “We will have intercourse only until the child is conceived,” Curufinwë says.

“Agreed,” replies Costamë, “and I will carry the child to term, as long as I am allowed to write all details of my pregnancy down for a treatise which I plan on authoring.”

“Most acceptable,” says Curufinwë happily. “I will fund any research you wish for until our child reaches fifty years of age as long as you do not interfere in its raising after your initial duties such as feeding are over.”

“Until it reaches a hundred years,” Costamë replies, “and I will see it once a week after it is weaned. After the child is old enough, this will be raised to twice a week so that I may teach it mathematics and biology, my fields of particular speciality.”

“Very much agreed.” Curufinwë says. “Excellent, I had hoped that you would understand, but scarcely had I hoped for such a fellow scientist and researcher.”

“And I you,” replies Costamë. “I have been wishing to study the effects of pregnancy on a body firsthand, and track a child’s growth, but mothers can be so tiresome about privacy and my efforts to find someone to help me do it myself have thus far been fruitless.” She pauses and Tyelkormo takes the time to try and right his world from where it has apparently tilted.

“I cannot believe Curvo has found his mind-twin or something,” Carnistir marvels. Beneath them, Costamë and Curufinwë are agreeing on the meeting time for their “intercourse”.

“Yeah, really,” Tyelkormo replies. Costamë is leaving now, apparently too busy to spend time with her husband-to-be now that the important things are finished with.

Curufinwë looks up. “I know you’re there,” he says. “I don’t mind. It’s good to have witnesses to my success.”

-

Curufinwë Tyelperinquar is born healthy and wailing in late spring. He is promptly presented to his adoring grandfather and great grandfather, who are ecstatic to have another baby to coo over.

Curufinwë beams at Tyelkormo. “Told you I’d do it.”

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” Tyelkormo replies. “Now, let me hold my nephew.”

-

I got Costamë’s name from a site tumblr won’t let me link but if you google realelvish name lists it’ll probably take you there

Costamë ends up loving Tyelpë, but she’s just too busy and not really the huggy, mothering type so she leaves most of that to Curvo who’s really happy with the whole arrangement.