Disclaimer: Not mine, just exploring with the character.

My idea here was to try to portray some comfort to a tragic and tortured character; I am not excusing what he did though.

Undeserving

"The lords of the house are returning!" The shout sounded through the large home area of the fortress. In the late evening, servants who had been lax since their masters had left suddenly jumped into action. An elleth remained calm as she made her way to her master's rooms shutting the double doors behind her effectively blocking out the unwanted noise of servants frantically running around the halls. She calculated the time she believed she had. The lord would speak to his brother privately, and then talk to the guardian left in charge of the fortress and people. She was well used to his actions upon returning home from abroad and trusted her approximate timing.

Mytica moved about the room lighting the candle lamps before kneeling before the fireplace. She placed kindling into the dark alcove then used a small stick, lit from a candle beside her, to begin to build a fire to warm her master's rooms. The flame licked at the dried wood, and a small fire burned. She continued to add to the fire bringing the first feelings of warmth to the recently unused room. Glancing around herself be sure everything was in order, she opened the door to the hall and stopped a young page as he scurried about.

"Go to the kitchens and be sure that someone has begun to heat water for the lords to bathe. If the kitchen staff has not started, tell them to begin immediately." Mytica had turned her voice to ice as she spoke to the young elf. The young elf nodded his eyes wide. "Go." The elfling took off in the direction of the kitchens. She couldn't help but smile and reminded herself to praise the child later.

Turning back into the rooms of her lord, Mytica double checked the room's appearance. She had cleaned and aired the rooms everyday her lord was gone, but she liked to be confident. The living space fire was burning brightly, and using a tong from the fireplace, she moved one of the logs into the bedroom hearth. She added more wood, and the fire quickly began to burn at the new wood spilling warmth into the bedroom. The bed was turned down, more lights were lit, and the balcony door curtains were pulled across the colored glass. Mytica moved to the wardrobe and laid the lord's evening robe across the bed. Crossing between the rooms again, she walked into the wash room to lay towels near the bath.

A loud knock sounded through the living quarters, and she swiftly returned to the double doors to allow the kitchen staff in. Her expression became stern before stepping aside as she opened the doors. The kitchen staff did not meet her eyes as they carried in steaming buckets of water for the lord's bath. They quickly as possible filled the bath and set down extra buckets of hot water. The elfling stood in the door biting his lip as he watched them. His eyes glanced up at her to gauge her response of his work. Mytica smiled down at him, nodding her head slightly to show her approval. The child ducked his head, but she could see a smile on his lips. The kitchen staff disappeared out the double doors back down the hall.

The elfling turned to follow them, but stopped when she held her hand up. "Bring roast venison, fresh bread, butter, the seasoned potatoes, cheese, fruit, and a large piece of the strawberry tart for the lord's dinner. Tell the cook to send a bottle of the good wine the lord prefers. Be sure he does this for both of the lords though I am sure the second lord's servant is attending to his chambers." She watched him scurry away back to the kitchens.

Mytica moved back into the lord's chambers and prepared the table by placing a dark cloth across the surface. She added a couple of candles to the top, lighting them before looking around her. She walked through the prepared rooms stopping here and there to straighten or arrange something that had been fine. To the bath, she added scented oil the lord preferred. She did a second walk through finishing as a second knock sounded at the doors.

The elfling balanced a large tray, and being afraid it would fall she quickly took it from his hands. She spread the feast on the table leaving the dishes covered so the food remained hot, settled the wine into a bucket of ice, placed the large tray out of the way, and dismissed the elfing with another smile. She moved to stand by the double doors and waited. Her timing had been close when she heard her lord's light footsteps enter the hallway moments later.

Mytica opened the door and bowed to her lord as he strode into the room stopping just inside the doorway. She closed the doors giving her lord privacy and peace from the outside world.

"You always know when to expect me Mytica." He removed the clasp at his neck to hand her his cloak, inhaling deeply. She accepted it and placed it in a basket near the door for washing later. "And you already have a bath prepared. I don't know how you know." He chuckled lightly, shrugging out of his outer tunic leaving him in his leggings and undershirt. Mytica placed the outer tunic in the basket as well. He toed off his boots where he stood so not to drag mud and dirt across the impeccably clean rooms he knew she kept. "I do not believe even my brother is so well cared for."

He walked into the bedroom and she heard the rustle of clothing being removed. She waited until he moved out of the bedroom in the robe and into the wash room. When she heard the water move in the bath she followed her lord's recent footsteps into the bedroom. He had placed the worn clothing near the bed, and she quickly moved it to the basket. She placed the soiled garments and dirty boots into the hall knowing that one of the other servants would take the items to be cleaned and returned before the morning. Mytica moved into the bedroom first, adding more fuel to the fire before doing the same for the one in the living space. She double checked the food and wine then waited patiently for her lord to finish his bath occasionally adding more wood to the living space fire.

Her lord walked out of his bathing chamber wrapped in his robe. "Aye, a hot bath, finely prepared food, and a clean home with a soft bed, what more could I ask for?" He sat down in front of the fire on a plush carpet. Mytica smiled gently at him from one of the seats next to the fireplace, and held out her hand. The lord laughed lightly. "You are too good to me." He placed his comb in her hand and settled himself in front of her. She began the process of brushing out his long, red locks carefully removing any tangles.

Lord Maedhros leaned into her gentle administrations. He tried to will away the outside world, focusing on the caressing hands brushing his hair. "There are times I wish my life could remain in this room." He whispered. "I grow tired of impossible expectations and broken promises." Comfortable silence fell between them again stretching minutes. "I am not the only one to grow weary, and I worry for my brother's, and at times, my own sanity in the darkness of my life." He paused, then shook his head sadly. "Folly."

Mytica plaited the hair into a long rope and tied it off with a thin ribbon. "My lord, I may only offer to never break a promise to you, and my only expectation is that you return home to those of us who would follow you." Her lord often spoke to her about the weights that burdened him knowing she would listen to anything he told her without judgment or gossiping. "I will not let you in darkness, but light a fire so bright that you may find your way."

They sat together in front of the fire, her lord leaning against her legs and thinking deeply. She did not let him think too long though, but reached for his hand that rested against his thigh. Grasping it tightly, she squeezed willing her feelings and the truth of her statements to be felt in the simple gesture. Maedhros returned the squeeze bringing her hand to his lips and kissed the skin lightly. He stood in a fluid movement, turning to her.

"Thank you." He pulled her up from the chair, the moment between them broken. He gestured to the table. "Join me." He led her to the table and seated her next to him. Maedhros settled himself and watched as she piled food onto his plate while he poured the wine. "How have things been since my leaving?"

The evening wore on and comfortable silence had settled between them again. Maedhros sat in his chair by the fire, a glass of dark wine held lightly in his hand. He had listened to the Mytica's report of what she had observed since his latest foray. His home, fortress, has fared well. He felt some warmth when Mytica had told him his people looked for his return. The evening was growing into night, and he felt he should dismiss Mytica, but he did not want her to leave. His eyes traveled over her form sitting causally in the other chair currently mending some of his clothing.

Her hands stitched even, neat, and invisible repairs to the rents in his clothing. He had insisted she have a glass a wine with him, and she had complied easily sipping from the offered glass occasionally. She didn't seem to mind in the least that he hadn't dismissed her for the night. His mind wandered as he watched her work, bringing flashes of happier times with his family and friends; the memories washing over him.

Mytica tied off the finished seam to turn the shirt right side out. She folded the soft material and found her lord's eyes on her, though she could tell his mind was elsewhere. "My lord?"

His eyes cleared of his memories leaving her within his thoughtful gaze. "I know what it is that you would ask of me Mytica."

She felt her breath catch in her throat, but she did not lower her eyes from his knowing ones.

"I have known for some time, but I choose not to acknowledge what you would so willingly give." He moved the wine to the table without breaking their eye contact. "I cannot give you what you would ask for and you deserve no less than everything."

Mytica fought to control the tears that threatened and the constriction of her chest.

Maedhros thought of his oath and the atrocities he had committed. "I am undeserving of such an offering." He watched her attempting control, and she did well to hide it. "I cannot send you away though, it is a selfish act on my part, but I cannot do it." He stood from his chair, and the light from the fireplace shone through his red locks making him almost glow. He crossed the few steps between the chairs. Maedhros caressed her cheek; he realized he had never allowed himself to touch her so intimately.

She had followed him with her eyes, and when he touched her, she caught his hand in hers. "I do not judge, and I will not leave even if you would send me from your sight." For a moment, she believed to have seen something in his eyes; approval, reciprocation?

"I have been judged, and I am damned for my decisions. I will not allow you to commit yourself to damnation." Softly, he withdrew his hand and looked away from her. "The damned do not deserve what you are willing to give." There was finality in his tone, and Mytica lowered her eyes in defeat.

End

Even Maedhros deserves some pity, and I really do lean towards 'happy endings'.

Let me know what you think. I've been playing with some ideas between the LotR and the Silmarillion.