Originally written for whumtober 2021
Prompt No 27 - I'm fine, I prom...
Passing out | Vertigo | Collapse
Curvo was angry.
No, that wasn't strong enough.
Curvo was furious.
It showed in the way he paced in frustration as he tried to explained to his brother why he had been shut away in the forge for three weeks. Given, Makalaurë had a few good points: he hadn't been eating enough and he had been neglecting Tyelpe, among other things. But the project was more important, Curvo ranted. Makalaurë sat slouched at his makeshift desk in his sparsely decorated office, drumming his fingers slowly on the worn wood. Despite his eyes following Curvo's pacing around the small room, Curvo was under the impression that Makalaurë hadn't listened to a single word he had said.
It was truly infuriating. He didn't need Makalaurë ignorantly sticking his power hungry fingers into his life just to toy with Curvo whenever he felt like it. Ever since Nelyo had been captured, Makalaurë had been acting strange; more controlling, more short tempered. Then Nelyo had been abruptly returned and Makalaurë never seemed to sit still, bouncing back and forth between Nelyo's sick room and his office. With Nelyo back, the title of King no longer fell on Makalaurë, but he didn't seem to stop controlling everything. Curvo hated him for it. Why couldn't Makalaurë just stay as his somewhat reclusive, but musically inclined older brother?
"Are you even listening to me?" Curvo demanded, his patients wearing thin. He slammed his fist down on the table, making the inkwell capsize. Thick, black ink spilled across the desk, staining the wood. Makalaurë gave a small hum and reset his ink jar before getting unsteadily to his feet.
"Listen Carnist-Curvo, I am sorry, but I have to go…" Makalaurë's voice was far softer than normal.
"I can't believe you, you stupid son of an Orc! You called me here away from the forge for your stupid interrogation and now you're leaving?" Curvo spat, throwing his hands up in the air, "You have the attention span of a-"
"No…. I really am sorry… I have to….you should… Next time, show up on time…" Makalaurë looked a little dazed as he took a swaying, stumbling step, leaning hard on the table that functioned as his desk, "I have to go… I have a…have a…I...I...I..."
Without warning, Makalaurë pitched forward, knocking hard into the table before hitting the ground. Curvo stared in shock for a moment before crouching next to Makalaurë. He felt momentary relief to see that the musician was still breathing. That relief melted away when Makalaurë stayed unconscious.
"Maka? Maka?" Curvo frantically shook his older brother, but he got no response. One thing that Curvo prided himself in was his ability not to panic. However, all thoughts of remaining calm flew out of his head when Makalaurë remained unresponsive.
In a panic, he called the guards and they soon had Makalaurë transported to the healer's. Curvo had to remain outside the room while his brother was tended to. While he waited, Curvo sent off the guards to alert his other brothers as to what had occurred.
Curvo was shortly joined by all his brothers. The Ambarussar were the first to arrive, their faces clearly displaying their worry as they fidgeted in the corner and refused to talk. Moryo was next, his face was more guarded than the twin's, but Curvo could tell from the set of his jaw and shoulders that he was worried too. Tyelko ran in breathless, cheeks rosy from the cold. He clearly just come in from a ride about the countryside. Last limped in Maedhros who had stubbornly dragged himself from his own sick bed. Curvo found it hard to read anything from his face or body language because he was so changed from his time in Angband.
After what felt like hours, they were finally allowed in to see Makalaurë. The room was darkened. On the low bed in the middle of the room lay Makalaurë. He looked truly awful. His face had a grey pallor to it. There were dark bags under his eyes and wrinkles etched deeply around his eyes and forehead. Stripped of his thick winter robes, his body was terribly thin under the blanket. His left arm was set in a brace and bound to his chest. The most shocking parts of his appearance were the streaks of grey in his dark hair. None of them had never noticed the streaks before, but that was unsurprising as Makalaurë almost always wore his hair back. The overall effect made Makalaurë look aged beyond belief.
"What happened to him? Will he be ok?" Tyelko voiced the questions running through all of their minds.
"He should be fine. A part from the broken shoulder and collar bone from striking his desk, he's just exhausted. Well, beyond exhausted. Honestly, I'm surprised he didn't collapse sooner, what with him not sleeping and hardly eating," the healer sighed and tucked the blankets in a little tighter.
"He hasn't been sleeping?" Maedhros' voice was a soft rasp.
"No, and before you ask, yes I've tried drugging him. It didn't work. He's too clever."
"He avoids it?" Moryo looked concerned.
"Like the plague. Always has a new excuse every time, too. 'I can't tonight, Nelyo is having nightmares' or 'I will later, I have to finish this paperwork'."
"How long has this been going on?" Curvo demanded feeling incredibly protective of his older brother.
"On and off after Losgar, but it really got bad when you..." the healer trailed off as he looked towards Maedhros, not wanting to trigger the redhead.
"You're saying is that he hasn't been sleeping for more than thirty years?" Curvo exclaimed. They all felt more than a little sick for not noticing their brother's declining health.
"Maybe? I don't know for sure, but I would guess yes."
"Will he recover?" Pityo's voice cracked. The others could tell he was close to tears.
"Yes. It will take time though. Your brother had worked himself close to death. He'll need rest and plenty of it."
The healer left shortly after with strict instructions not to waken Makalaurë under any circumstance. The brothers solemnly agreed. As they huddled around the low bed, they each though over how they had missed the signs of Makalaurë's declining health.
The Ambarussar had been sulking since they had willing (or unwilling, depending on which one you asked) departed from Valinor. After their oldest brother's capture, they had retreated to their tent and seldom left or seen anyone. Celegorm had been spending all of his time hunting Orcs in neighboring mountains. When he was in camp, the blond only ever sought out the company of Huan and Tyelpe. Moryo had spent vast amounts of time with the Sindar, away from the camp and his brothers. Only with Maedhros' rescue had he reluctantly returned to camp. Curvo had been locking himself in the forge for months on end. Maedhros had refused to see his younger brothers for quite some time. Despite logic telling him otherwise, he still held them more than partially responsible for what happened to him.
They had each been too absorbed with themselves to care about each other. The air grew tense. Finally Tyelko could take it no longer. He shoved his chair back and strode swiftly from the room. Based off the look on his face, Maedhros knew it would be foolish to leave alone for any amount of time. He reluctantly left Makalaurrë's bedside to limp after Tyelko. It took him a little while, but Maedhros finally found Tyelko in Makalaurë's office. The blond was sitting dejectedly in Makalaurë's chair.
"What are you doing in here Tyelko?"
Tyelk jumped, startled by his brother's sudden appearance.
"Nelyo, I ... uh..."
"You're trying to assuage your guilt, aren't you?" Maedhros correctly guessed.
"I was next eldest while you were gone, I should have noticed something was off."
"Yes, you should have," Maehdros' tone was no nonsense.
Tyelko glared at the redhead. He had clearly been expecting his older brother to free him from this condemnation that he had contributed to the problem. Before he could say anything, the door creaked open and a scout entered. He looked startled to see Maedhros and Tyelko in Makalaurë's office.
"Your Majesty, Lord Turkafinwë," the soldier bowed low. He straightened and looked around the room awkwardly.
"What do you need?" Maedhros asked gruffly. The soldier jumped slightly before snapping to attention.
"I was to meet with Regent Makalaurë to discuss patrol movements and findings," he explained, "Will he be along soon?"
"Makalaurë is…. indisposed at the moment," Maedhros admitted, "So, for now you will have to work with Lord Turkafinwë."
Maedhros gave Tyelko a little shove forward with his remaining hand, ignoring the blond's spluttered protests. Tyelko gave his older brother a very rude hand gesture.
"Of course, your Majesty," The soldier bow once more.
As Tyelko followed the soldier out, Maedhros wondered how much more Makalaurë had taken on. Maedhros procured a rather lengthy list from Makalaurë's aide of the things that Makalaurë need to accomplish today to keep the camp running. It was far longer than he had hoped. Not only did Makalaurë seemed to have decided to singlehandedly run the camp, he also was heavily involved with the mundane inner workings too. Maedhros rubbed his eyes. It was a small miracle his brother had lasted this long with a work load like this.
After a moment of thought, Maedhros let himself back into Makalaurë's room. It was there in harsh whispers that Maedhros divvied up the major tasks needed to be completed that day.
He sent Moryo meet to with Nolofinwë to finalize what appeared to be a trade arrangement written in Makalaurë's sloppy shorthand. The Ambarussa were sent out of the camp to help organize foraging and hunting parties. After a battle of tempers, Curvo reluctantly agreed not to return to the forge. He would spend time with Tyelpe and together they would check the perimeter defenses. As there wasn't much else he could do at the moment, Maedhros assigned himself as Makalaurë's nursemaid.
With everyone suitably busy, Maedhros was left alone with his sleeping younger brother. When Makalaurë started shivering, Maedhros piled on more blankets. When he sobbed in his sleep, Maedhros murmured soft reassurances while massaging his scalp. With every passing moment, the signs of neglect written all over Makalaurë's body stood out clearer. It was everything from the slightly prominent ribs to the way he slept with eyes closed.
"Why?" Maedhros rubbed his own aching right shoulder, "Why would take on all of this responsibility? Why would you do this to yourself?"
Makalaurë didn't answer, but Maedhros didn't need him to. It was all too clear. Makalaurë had found a way he though atoned for his mistakes. Maedhros breathed heavily through his nose. His little brother was an idiot to pull a stunt like this. If the pallid skin was any indication, he was far from well, but he would get better. Maedhros would see to it.