Disclaimer: This lovely world and all of its characters and plot are Tolkien's

Ch 10: Not Supposed to Happen

"Hey Maka," Nelyo said softly, trying not startle his brother, "It's good to see you awake again."

Makalaurë blinked and stared back at him uncertainly. He hesitantly reached out a shaking hand and lightly touch Nelyo's face before quickly drawing his hand back. Makalaurë's tired gaze lingered on Nelyo for a moment longer before he glanced around the room in fear and confusion. They sat ttherein silence for some time; Nelyo watching Makalaurë take the room in. A myriad of emotions flickered briefly across the younger Elf's face too fast for Nelyo to properly identify them.

Turning back to Nelyo, Makalaurë open and closed his mouth several times as though to say something, but no sound came out. Makalaurë looked startled. He raised his trembling hand to his neck, feeling the thick bandages there. The confusion that twisted his expression soon turned to desparate panic. He tore at the bandages in a frenzy, as though that was the reason for his muteness.

"Maka! No, stop! Makalaurë!" Nelyo lunged forward and caught Makalaurë's arm, but the damage was already done. The bandages around his neck were torn loose as well as the splint on his hand. Nelyo tried to talk his brother down from his panic and sooth him, but the Elf began thrashing against his hold. The glazed look in his eyes told Nelyo that his brother was wake but no longer processing reality. Makalaurë fought desperately against his brother's hold.

Nelyo was at a loss. He had no idea what to do or how to calm his brother without hurting him more. He gently used his body weight to pin the weak Elf's upper body to the bed while he pleaded desperately with Makalaurë to stop and listen. Nelyo could feel every panicked heave and shudder that racked his younger brother. They tore at his heart. Unsurprisingly, restraining Makalaurë did not help him calm down, but caused him to fight harder. Despite being seriously injured, he bucked hard enough that more than once he nearly threw Nelyo off.

Nelyo was caught by surprise when another set of arms threw themselves over Makalaurë's thrashing legs. He briefly turned his head and caught sight of his uncle. At some point Nolofinwë had entered the tent with one the healers. Upon seeing his nephews struggling, he had raced over to help Nelyo hold Makalaurë down. The healer scurried over to one of the tables digging through various phials, urgently looking for something. She brought over a small phial full of a milky-white liquid. As she uncorked it, Nelyo recognize it from the smell as a fast acting and powerful sedative.

The healer gently grabbed Makalaurë's chin and upon forcing his jaw open, slowly poured the some of the sedative down his throat. Makalaurë choked on it in his panic, his eyes wildly rolling in their sockets as he fought to get away from who he perceived to be his tormentors. The potion quickly took effect; Makalaurë went still, muscles going lax and eyes fluttering shut. The Elves pinning him down relinquished their hold and moved aside as the healer began re-wrapping the loose bandages.

Adrenaline fading fast, Nelyo sunk down on a low stool. He found that his hands were shaking and his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

"Nelyo, what happened?" Nolofinwë asked his pale nephew.

"He woke. He couldn't talk, couldn't even make a sound and he panicked," Nelyo's bloodshot grey eyes found his uncle's face, "He panicked Uncle. I've never seen him do that. He just… he didn't….I couldn't…."

Nolofinwë placed a firm hand on Nelyo's shoulder, grounding the other Elf. He could see how close to a breakdown the redhead was. Nelyo was exhausted physically and emotionally from his vigil at Makalaurë's bedside. He was so close to his limits that for Makalaurë to wake up for the first time in such a distressing way might just be the last straw to break Nelyo's spirit.

"I miss my brother," Nelyo blinked back tears. Nolofinwë awkwardly squeezed Nelyo's shoulder. He shouldn't be the one giving comfort, it should've been Fëanor here instead. But his explosive brother was dead, so he tried to fill in that role as best he could.

"He'll be fine," Nolofinwë hoped he came across as reassuring, "It will just time and love. Don't give up on him and he'll pull through."

Nelyo surreptitiously wiped his eyes before facing the bed again. The healer had finished re-binding Makalaurë's loose dressings. She assured them that Makalaurë would, physically be fine. He was too weak to do too much damage to himself. He would sleep until the sedative wore off, so it was unlikely he would wake for the next several hours.

Nelyo wanted to be there when Makalaurë woke up again, but Nolofinwë put his foot down. He told Nelyo with no uncertain terms that he would rest or be dosed with the same sedative the healer had used on his brother. Nolofinwë knew he walking on dangerous ground threatening his liege lord in such a way, but Nelyo was so exhausted he complied with minimal grumbling after making his uncle promise to wake him up as soon as Makalaurë awoke.

It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that the sedative wore off and Makalaurë returned to the waking world. Grey eyes fluttered several times before opening completely.

"Makalaurë?" Nolofinwë held his breath, waiting to see if Makalaurë relapsed into panic again. Makalaurë simply started at Nolofinwë in confusion before glancing over Nolofinwë's shoulder, as though looking around for someone or something.

"Nelyo is resting at the moment. He'll be back shortly," Nolofinwë quickly continued as Makalaurë opened his mouth, "No, don't try to speak just now. Your throat was badly injured." Along with the rest of you. Nolofinwë didn't finish that though out loud.

Panic crossed Makalaurë's face as raised his hand to his neck. Nolofinwë tensed, ready to restrain his nephew. However, unlike before, Makalaurë's hand dropped back on the bed. He coughed dryly several times and grimaced, left arm wrapping around his middle as various injuries were jostled. Makaluarë gave Nolofinwë a pleading look which the older Elf immediately understood. Crossing the tent with swift strides, Nolofinwë poured some water into a sturdy, earthenware mug before coming back and bracing an arm around Makalaurë to lift him into a more comfortable position to drink.

Makalaurë's whole body tensed at the contact and he shifted away from his uncle's touch. Confused, Nolofinwë tried again only to get the same reaction. They repeated this several times before Nolofinwë grimly realized what was wrong: Makalaurë didn't want to be touched. Makalaurë noticed the look of horror Nolofinwë's face and averted his eyes in shame.

Quenyan name:

Nelyo/Nelyafinwë/Maitimo/Russandol = Maedhros

Makalaurë/Laurë/Kano/Kanafinwë = Maglor

Pityo/Pitafinwë = Amras

Turukáno/Turu = Turgon

Findekáno/Finno = Fingon

Finderáto = Finrod

Nolofinwë = Fingolfin