Dreams and Fantasies
The shopkeeper chuckled, amused, as he handed Maedhros the many goods he had purchased.
First the three loaves of bread, then the two wheels of cheese, followed by the sack full of apples.
Maedhros took a moment to strategically arrange these items in his basket before accepting the two jars of milk, balancing them on top.
"You feeding an army or something?" the elf chuckled, counting the coins good-naturedly, as it the amount did not really matter.
"I...have a big family." Maedhros explained quietly, smiling at the shopkeeper in turn.
"Why do you not just let the women of your household do the shopping?"
Because all of them were still in Valinor.
"I like shopping for my family." Maedhros offered lamely, smiling and shrugging at the friendly man.
Of course, that was not the real reason he was the one who always volunteered to go buy the food, and there was a reason he always rode a long way to some little town where he would not be easily recognized to do it.
"What is wrong with your hand?" the young man asked in concern, motioning to Maedhros' right arm which he had bound up in a sling to hide the stump.
"A small accident, it will be back to normal in no time."
No it would not. It would never be back to normal.
"Oops, do not forget those flowers you bought." the storekeeper exclaimed as Maedhros made ready to leave, "They for a special pretty lady?" he asked curiously as he handed the bouquet to the grievously overladen elf.
"No, actually, they are for a friend. He saved my life, and I can never seem to thank him enough."
The shopkeeper seemed disappointed.
"Oh. Well, anyway, have a nice day!" he cried, spirits immediately perking back up in time to wave enthusiastically at Maedhros as he left.
The russet-haired elf closed his eyes and smiled.
He loved going shopping, not for the actual act of shopping itself, but for the moment of peace it granted him.
When he put on a simple rustic tunic, hid his stump and rode to some relatively faraway town where he would not be easily recognized, Maedhros got the rare chance to be someone else.
He got the chance to be Maedhros the normal elf, the non-kinslaying, non-oathbound elf, whose family and life were not falling apart, whose hand had not been not cut off. He got the chance to be a simple elf who had a beautiful and entirely imaginary wife waiting, smiling at his doorstep for him with his little children hugging her skirts, the beautiful woman he could brag to the shopkeepers about in an attempt to feel more valid, more real.
"Nelyo! There you are, your brother has been worrying on your absence and sent me to find you." Fingon exclaimed as he galloped up to Maedhros, breathless, and the eldest son of Feanor felt suddenly guilty.
"I was shopping."
Fingon looked him up and down: the simple tunic, the concealed stump, the bandana hiding his distinct russet hair.
"Ah...I see." then he laughed suddenly, catching a glimpse of the flowers peeking out from inside the basket, "Honestly, Nelyo, more flowers? You can go off shopping and pretending as much as you want, just no more accursed flowers! My room is already overfull with them!"
Nelyo-Maedhros' Quenya nickname