They rode quickly and in silence. Maedhros could feel Vorindon's gaze that seemed to be burning a hole in his back, but he did not intend to slow down. They were still too close to the orcs' camp, the battlefield, the corpses and a potential trap. Amras was under their care, free, but not yet taken far enough from danger. That nightmarish scenario with negotiations turning into a slaughter could still repeat itself.
The short dusk turned into a night. The wind coming from the north chased some of the clouds and stars appeared on the sky. The waxing crescent of the moon shone on the part of the clear shy and brightened their way with the silver light. But with the wind came the chill; the night reminded them that Spring was yet to come, even though the sunny days brought the first glimpses of it.
"I think we should stop," said finally the elf that was holding Amras. "I can't wake him, nor warm him up," he rode closer to Maedhros; the wounded was limp in his grasp. "I'm worried."
"The horses will need some rest," remarked Vorindon. "We won't make it back home without a stop."
Maedhros would prefer to wait till morning, but he had to agree with his subjects. His brother looked unwell and the horses needed to rest.
They rode for a while until they spotted a place between the rocks that provided some shelter from the wind. Soon Amras was placed by a small fire, covered with second cloak. Maedhros wandered around at first, appointing the guards, but as he made sure they could not be caught by surprise, he sat by his brother. He brushed his damp hair away and wiped his forehead, trying to keep his own emotions at bay. Amras moaned and curled under the cloaks. He must have realised his hands were free, because he tried to rise. Maedhros put an arm around him and helped him sit up.
"It's alright, Ambarussa, it's alright," he leaned and whispered to his brother's ear, but Amras started struggling. Surprised, Maedhros loosened his grip.
"No! Nonono nnooo!" Amras choked and leaned to the side, but his brother's steady arm kept him upright. "Not you, not you, not you!"
"Pityo!" Maedhros shook off the surprise and grabbed his brother's chilly hand. "It's alright, you're safe. No one is going to hurt you. Nor me," he added stiffly.
Amras opened his eyes and looked at the elves around them. He pressed his hands to his stomach and moved closer.
"Maitimo..." he rasped and the next thing Maedhros noticed was Amras's wet cheek on his neck as his brother clang to him.
Vorindon brought a mug of a hot brew and a bag with dressings. Once Amras drank it all, he removed the cloaks and took care of the lashes on his arms. Then he pulled up the torn shirt to tend to his back.
Maedhros helped as much as he could, but mostly he just kept his brother in place, trying to calm him and himself. If his youngest brother wasn't so close, he would not have restrained his fury. Amras. Safe. You've got him. Now guard him. Maedhros remembered the teary child on the shores, whom he promised to stay together and whom he abandoned soon after for long years. Now Amras seemed to be equally defenceless, even if he was trying to bear the tending without complains. He objected only when Vorindon covered him back and touched his injured leg.
"Don't," he asked quietly without opening his eyes. "It's broken, leave it."
"I'll just secure it," promised Vorindon. "The less you move it, the better."
He did his best to be gentle, but before he was finished, Amras was shivering again and his hand clenched on Maedhros's. He slumped and leaned his head on his brother's thigh, trapping Maedhros under him.
"Is it any better?" asked Maedhros more calmly, adjusting the wet poultice on his brother's forehead.
"Mmmm," muttered Amras unconvincingly, trying to find more comfortable position without moving his leg.
"Try to get some sleep, we'll stay here for a while. Then we ride back home," said Maedhros.
"Mmm..." Amras tried to focus his gaze on him, but he just winced and closed his eyes again. "It's far..."
"I'm afraid you will have to bear it. Rest now. I'm here if you need me."
The Noldor used the stop to rest a bit and get some sleep. A few were still talking quietly, but most laid down to sleep after a small meal. Maedhros envied them. He sat by his brother, checking from time to time if he wasn't cold or more feverish, but he would not be able to lie down and close his eyes, just like he could not relax his tensed muscles in his neck and shoulders.
Amras seemed to be asleep for some time, as he went utterly quiet and his hand loosened its grip on his brother's sleeve and fell limp, so Maedhros jerked when Amras shivered suddenly and moaned softly. He shifted and rested his warm cheek on Maedhros's hand.
"I'm sorry, Maitimo." he muttered quietly.
"Valar, what for?" Maedhros looked at him in disbelief; another wave of fury froze his heart.
"I couldn't..." Amras stopped, ashamed.
"There is nothing to apologise for." The eldest son if Feanor leaned and whispered to his brother's ear; there was no need for others to hear them. "Don't even try. Nothing of what happened was your fault, do you hear me?"
"I couldn't... wouldn't bear..." choked Amras. "You did. Survived... I... not so strong. If you didn't come in time... A knife... If only I had managed..."
Maedhros froze. He was trying hard not to think what would have happened if he had not come in time. If Amras had managed to do what he intended... But despite this, his voice was calm and collected when he answered.
"If ever any of the Enemy's servants were to lay their hands on me and drag me back to Angband, I would not hesitate for a single moment," he hissed. "I am not going back there alive. Never, Pityo. And I will not let any of you end there."
Hope that was at least tiny bit more fluffy than the previous ones.
