Apologies for a short chapter. Life has been busy.

Disclaimer: This is Tolkien's wonderful world. I don't claim any credit.


Ch7 Promises Unkept

Maedhros was woken by a violent coughing fit. Ever since Maglor had nearly choked to death, Maedhros had spent all of his spare time at his brother's bedside. True to what the healer had promised, the worst did seem to be over. Maglor was slowly growing more lucid with every passing day, though his waking hours were often plagued by coughing fits.

And it was the coughing still worried Maedhros. He looked to the bed. Maglor was curled up as much as his abused body would allow, trembling as he gasped for breath. Slowly the fit passed leaving Maglor panting and trembling with exertion. Maedhros hoisted his brother into a semi-seated position, propped up against the headboard and the lumpy pillows on the bed. Malgor's face lost what little it had color as he was moved. His eyes remained closed as Maedhros poured him some water.

Maglor's right side was still heavily bandaged, so Maedhros placed the small cup in his brother's left hand. Thankfully between being a musician and wielding dual swords, Maglor was somewhat ambidextrous. He grasped the cup reasonably well with his left hand. The cup was shaking so badly that Maedhros was glad that he had only filled it halfway. He reached out to steady Maglor's hand, but withdrew when he received a scathing glare. Maglor was still smarting from the last time they had truly spoken.

Maedhros was forced to watch as Maglor attempted to drink the water. Most of the water ended up down the front of Maglor. The thin nightshirt, borrowed from Maedhros, was already damp with sweat so the additional water was hardly noticeable. With the cup drained, Maglor sagged back into the bed, his short burst of energy spent. For a moment, Maedhros thought he had fallen back asleep.

"Lissë…. How... she?" Maglor finally mumbled, cracking his eyes open. Maedhros tensed slightly at the question. This was the first time Maglor had asked after his daughter. Maedhros had avoided the topic altogether after the healer's warning about Maglor's fragile health.

"She's safe," Maedhros reassured Maglor. His lips were pressed firmly together as though to hold down nausea at the fact that he had just lied to his younger brother. Exhaling slowly through his nose, Maedhros told himself it wasn't technically a lie. Her body was safe from scavengers. Maglor didn't seem to notice his brother's suddenly stiff posture and pasty complexion. He was too focused on his daughter's health.

"Need...see… her..." Maglor struggled to sit up. Before he got far, Maedhros put his big hand in the middle of Maglor's chest and easy pushed him back into the bed.

"Not right now. You need to recover more," Maedhros scolded.

"No… 'M fine…" Maglor's voice was hardly a raspy whisper. That statement was rather undermined by the fact that his face was nearly the same color as the bandages that still encased a good portion of his body.

"You and I have a very different definition of 'fine', toronya." Despite the grim reality of the situation, Madhros couldn't keep the fond smile of his face.

"Not… true… you would do… same thing…" Maglor squinted at Maedhros in defiance, but he made no move to get out of the bed again.

"Go back to sleep," Maedhros snorted, unable to deny the accusation. Maglor reluctantly obeyed the command, slipping easily into Irmo's realm. Maedhros took a deep breath and rolled his tense shoulders as his brother's eyes drifted closed once more. He couldn't hold off telling Maglor about Erulissë forever. He would wait until Maglor was stronger and able to move on his own. Then he would break the grim news, no matter the consequences.

Despite all his planning, there were somethings that Maedhros could never foresee.

The death of Nolofinwë was one.


Translations:

Toronya - Brother, informal [Quenyan]