Work Text:
Maitimo liked mornings. He could spend them in his bed, slowly regaining sense of reality and creating his plans for the whole day - preferably in the form of a list in his head - waiting for father to walk through the whole corridor, calling him and his brothers. Every morning they had a family breakfast and father liked to make sure they all would be present on it.
When the first golden rays of Laurelin’s light brushed his face, Maitimo sighed, turning with his back to the window and snuggling his face into Findecano’s ebony black hair.
And it was the moment when sleepiness left him so fast that he felt confused for a second or two.
The night end. The mingling of the two lights end. Laurelin’s golden light was already the only one visible outside. It means that father will call them for breakfast soon. And Findecano was still in their house! Father will kill Maitimo. Father will totally kill Maitimo!
“Finno,” he whispered, sitting on the bed. “Finno, wake up.”
Findecano opened his eyes slowly, blinking heavily.
“Maitimo?” He asked slowly.
“We overslept,” he said nervously. “It’s a day already.”
“O-oooh,” Findecano sat down and then immediately tried to stand up. He lost balance on his still numb legs. Maitimo, panicked, reached to grab for a material of way too big, red shirt in which his cousin was usually sleeping. He pulled a dark-haired elf back onto bed.
“Careful,” he murmured, but then colors vanished from his face.
Father’s voice called twins, which had their room nearest to the stairs down. Next he called Moryo, twice, because Moryo liked to crawl under his blankets like a big mole and try to not deal with life.
He and Findecano panicked again. Finno managed to stand up properly and grabbed his clothes from a small bedside cabinet. Usually Maitimo would happily watch the naked body of his cousin with all pretty details like the freckles, even if they were barely seen on a darker skin. This time he couldn’t focus even on Finno’s long, muscled legs or-
Father’s voice had called Curvo’s name. There was also a small sound of opening the doors because Curvo never was actually sleeping in the morning, but he always needed help with hair and he always wanted father to brush and braid them.
Findecano managed to put on his pants and leggings. He cursed in a weak voice, fighting with shoes, because somehow their long shoelaces completely tangled up.
Father returned to the corridor and called Tyelko. Then he spent a while carefully waking up Kano, who usually was working on the songs to the late hours and had a tendency for morning headaches. He should work less, but he was as stubborn as them all and never agreed to try to stop putting away his sleep. Father’s steps stopped in front of Maitimo’s doors. Usually Feanaro was peeking inside while calling Maitimo, because he didn’t have tendency to overslept-
Maitimo cursed in his soul as doorknob moved. Findecano became pale. He looked around feverishly and then he stood in a place right next to the entrance, where the doors should cover him while opening.
Father looked in every day.
“Nelyo, breakfast will be soon,” he announced with a smile. A delicious scent of pancakes and coffee came to Maitimo’s nose.
“Okay,” he said immediately. “Thank you.”
"You are still in bed,” Feanaro said, surprised. “Are you feeling unwell?”
“No, no, I just overslept! I’ll be on breakfast in five minutes,” he promised.
Father made a step back, but before he closed the doors, he looked at Maitimo a bit sad, as if he was disappointed.
“Tell Findecano that he also should come to breakfast,” Feanaro said. “It’s not nice for you to send him every time before the meal. Your mother is worried that you let him travel hungry.”
“Wha-”
“Do you and Tyelko really think that we don’t know when there are more children in our house than there should be?” disappointment changed into disbelief.
“I- I am sorry?” He offered weakly, confused, but Feanaro closed the doors already and walked away.
Findecano sighed loud and deep in relief, almost slipping down onto the floor. Maitimo did almost the same on the bed. His heart seemed to be in the middle of a race.