Maedhros was not in a good mood at all.
"And here I already had the day planned with the family!" she muttered, feeling how her right arm seemed to have locked itself into a very uncomfortable position. She should have expected that old phantom pain to show up anyone, and had honestly looking forwards to not suffer from them anymore.
"Ammë! are you still asleep?"
Oh yes, of course Rûsa would notice it to not be normal, since she generally tended to get up before him.
"I am awake, yes, but there is a not so little struggle I am dealing with at the moment. Go down to the kitchen and start eating with your grandparents, I will come soon."
The lack of footsteps told her that her son had not moved from the closed door to her private chamber. Thankfully, there was a sound from the kitchen downstairs and the yell of her father as he likely dropped something from his hands, a sure sign of that he must have stayed up late in the forge again and not getting enough many hours of sleep.
"Hopefully he is not trying to do something crazy again, the years before his creation of the Silmarils and the banishment to Formenos for threatening uncle Fingolfin with a sword was bad enough…"
Taking a deep breath, Maedhros grabbed her right wrist and slowly forced her arm loose from the uncomfortable position. It was a result of being hung by the wrist of her right hand upon the face of a precipice of Thangorodrim, for about thirty years. Her right shoulder had never truly recovered from carrying all her body weight like that, and even now in a new body, she knew that she was less flexible there than on her left side of the body.
"That was not a pleasant time in either way, given that I had just given birth before being taken there!"
She pushed down the unpleasant memory of what she once had believed as seeing her newborn child being stabbed to death in front of her very eyes, and tried to focus on finally getting out on bed.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
Fëanor had indeed stayed up later than normal yesterday night, from what Rûsa could tell of the large cup of strong tea in his hand.
"Haru, ammë is still in bed. Do you know why?"
"Hmmmm?" Fëanor responded, drinking up the last of the tea so he at least could focus on what his grandson spoke about. Nerdanel, who had just taken out a plate with freshly baked breakfast rolls from the oven, had to agree; this was not really normal for her daughter.
"I will take a look on her, please start eating while I am up there."
Once his wife was upstairs, Fëanor made a side glare from the corner of his eye as Rûsa walked over to the table to climb up on his chair. There was something off with one of his legs...
"Did you hit your right knee against the wall while you slept?" he wondered, as Rûsa's bed was placed against a wall to ensure that he did not roll out of bed during a nightmare formed by his memories from Angband.
"No. A old phantom pain from Angband, from when I was in the fighting pits as part of my so called "battle training"...oi, let go!"
Rûsa suddenly found himself grabbed by his grandfather and placed to stand straight up on the floor. Now it was impossible to hide that he did not exactly stand as he would do normally, in fact he seemed to place more weight on the left leg.
"Stand still."
The knee was not swollen, but Rûsa bit in his bottom lip to drown a cry of pain as Fëanor touched the tendons around the knee.
"How did you get that injury?"
He dreaded the answer, and Fëanor was right when his grandson managed to whisper:
"...had to defeat a cave troll...was chained to the middle of the platform with my right foot…narrowed my reach…."
"A cave troll?!"
It was Maedhros, her right arm in a sling around her neck to let her shoulder rest, who had been helped down the stairs by Nerdanel.
"Let me guess, the chain prevented you from escaping out of reach from the troll and you ended up straining the tendons so badly that there was irreparable damage to your right knee. Kano did mention something about you limping there in the camp after Morgoth's defeat, from what he could see."
Maedhros felt cold when she recalled that moment, how Rûsa had been moving before running off with her as a hostage.
"That explains why there is a missing tube bandage from the first aid kit. Did you borrow it yesterday to see if it would help?"
Since Rûsa had it not around his knee today, it had to still be in his bed chamber. Perhaps he must have planned to place it back today when none of the adults was watching.
"I may not know much treatment for phantom pains, given that I never followed this hot-blooded royal idiot into Exile for real unlike my seven brats, but I know something that might help you both," Nerdanel said, getting the attention of both her daughter and younger grandson. Fëanor made a offered face at the minor insult from his wife, before recalling his own behavior from that time and kept his mouth shut out of shame.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
After breakfast, Maedhros and Rûsa was sent to the large bath chamber to see if a hot bath might soothe their phantom pains while her parents washed and cleaned the dishes together.
"I do not think Rûsa have told us of all the possible injuries he suffered in his old life," Fëanor finally spoke up after some silence, as he dried off the last plates with a towel.
"No. It seems like he does not want us to know. I am not sure whatever it is out of shame, but he have been honest from the start. Or maybe he simply does not want to trigger up bad memories for Nelyo."
That could explain things. Out of all the people in their direct family, Maedhros was the only one who had been a prisoner in Angband. And Rûsa knew too well the horrors of being there.
From the bath chamber, they could hear Maedhros saying;
"Oi! Take it careful with the soap, Rûsa, I have enough of getting it flying from the hands of my little brothers into my forehead, thank you!"
Nerdanel and Fëanor shared a small smile at the memories that comment brought up. A far happier time, when life was as reasonable calm and organized as it could be with seven children in different ages.