To ask or not to ask

"I don't want to, Curvo."

"Come on! Look, it's easy. Just go up to her, say hi—"

"What if she ignores me?"

Curufin raised an eyebrow, and smiled. "Will she? Will she really, brother?"

Celegorm bit his lip. "No, but—"

"Then go, say hi, ask her to the prom with you—"

"What if she says no—"

"She's not going to say no!" Curufin threw his arms in the air, exasperated. "Seriously Turko, sometimes I wonder whether you have any brains inside that head of yours. Look, that Eöl guy has been pursuing her for ages. She'll take an excuse—any excuse—not to go to the prom with him. Besides, you're the hot one, right? The girls all want you. Now go!"

Curufin pushed his brother out of the closet then had both been hiding in. Immediately, he found himself surrounded by a large group of girls, each one screaming her affections. Celegorm pushed past them, offering each one a smile and a vague 'I'll see' in response to their questions about prom. Each one promptly shrieked with delight and began proclaiming loudly that the Turkafinwë Tyelkormo was going to the prom with them.

Celegorm made it down the corridor without a girl tackling him, which was a good sign. He spotted Aredhel in the crowd, and manoeuvred skilfully around a group of giggling girls before he finally got to her.

"Irissë," he gasped, using her long-term nickname, because he sure as hell wasn't going to call her by her actual name. That was way too formal.

She saw him, and grinned. "Turko! How nice to see you! Finally got away from your fan club, I see?"

"It's not a fanclub," Celegorm said, scowling. This conversation was not going the way he had planned.

Aredhel smirked. "No really, it is. They call themselves the SILMARILs—don't ask me what that stands for because I don't know. I think there's 50 of them now..."

"You can hardly blame me for that," Celegorm said. "I'm just naturally stunning. Anyway, since I'm so popular, would you like to... you know... go to the... whatsitcalled... prom... thing... with me? Uh, yeah." He could feel himself going red. Great. At this rate, he was going to turn into Caranthir.

Aredhel laughed. But then she realised he was being serious, and she went bright red too.
"Um..." She hesitated, staring down at her feet, right foot making small circles on the floor. "Look, Turko... It's not that I don't want to go... It's just that...  you know Eöl? He was begging me to go with him and he... well, he bought me a mole."

Celegorm stared. "A what?" he said stupidly.

"A mole."

"Like... one of those black things on your face?"

She smiled. "No. Like the cute furry animal mole."

Celegorm recoiled in horror. "I hate those things." Any other animal was okay. But those black-furred claw-y little rats... Eru help him.

"I think they're cute." Aredhel smiled. "I've named him Maeglin. Pop over to my house after school and you can meet him."

"No thanks. So does this mean you're going to prom with me?" he asked hopefully.

She shook her head, then allowed herself to be swept away by the crowd. "See you around, Turko."

He watched her leave with a mixed feeling of dejection, hurt, and anger. It was Curufin's fault. That crafty snake had made him so confident! Now he was going to pay.

--

"No! Please! I thought it would work! It's not my fault! Don't hurt me! Help me Nelyo! NELYOOOOOOOOOO—"

Curufin's yell was cut short but a strange gurgling sound. By the time Maedhros rushed into the room, Curufin was down on all fours, dry retching. Celegorm, standing smugly in the middle of the room, was proudly holding up a carton of milk.

"Success!" Celegorm proclaimed.

Maedhros could only sigh. "Brother, you know father hates it when you bully Curvo." He walked to the corner and helped Curufin to his feet. "What did you do now, Atarinkë?"

"Nothing," Curufin said innocently, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, which made Maedhros glare disapprovingly.

"He told me Aredhel would say yes!" Celegorm snapped. "But no, that Eöl bastard gave her a mole, so she chose him."

"A mole?" asked Maedhros. "Like one of those black things on your face?"

"No," Celegorm growled. "A cute furry animal mole."

"I like moles," Amrod chimed, as he walked into the room. The door had been conveniently left open by Maedhros.

"Me too," Amras added, following his brother in.

"Moles are small cylindrical mammals adapted to a subterranean lifestyle. They have velvety fur; tiny or invisible ears and eyes; relatively atrophied hindlimbs; and short, powerful forelimbs with large paws oriented for digging," Maglor said, following the twins in.

"Shut up," Celegorm snapped.

Maglor looked hurt, and began muttering to himself. Celegorm caught the words 'compose a song about moles', and he tried to block out the incessant noise before he was mentally scarred.

"So what happened, Turko?" asked Nelyo. "Aredhel rejected you?"

"For a mole."

"For Eöl," Curufin corrected.

"That's worse."

"It's okay," said Caranthir unexpectedly, his disembodied voice floating around the room. He was probably standing outside, eavesdropping, but he was surprisingly good at throwing his voice around. "It's just a Harry Potter-style rejection, right? Just kill the Cedric, and Cho's all yours."

"And who are you supposed to be?" said Maglor. "Peeves the Poltergeist?"

"What's a cho?" Celegorm asked.

There was a loud slapping noise as Maglor and still-outside Caranthir facepalmed simultaneously.

"Just take my advice," said Caranthir, "and kill Eöl."

--

In days to come, none of the Feanorions were in public except Maglor. However, most people avoided Maglor, because he could never say anything except sing a strange song.

There once was a boy called Celegorm
Destined to be... a-hasty-riser.
His parents are, um, still alive
And he was not very smart.

Celegorm went to Tirion
And he met Aredhel
Who he wanted to ask to the prom
But Eöl gave her a mole
No, not the one on your face
So Celegorm decided to shoot Eöl.

He missed his shot, and was expelled
And Curufin was suspended.
As punishment for not stopping them
Maedhros was chained to a cliff.

Later, Maglor was forced to admit he had made up the last line.