They were just a few miles away from Aredhel's house. Maedhros had one more point he wanted to make—this was likely his last chance to broach the subject.

He darted a glance at her. Aredhel had been mostly silent since they had left the restaurant. Maedhros had extracted the promise that she would do nothing more than text Tyelko in the morning with an offer to meet.

She was so much like his tempestuous younger brother that he wouldn't put it past her to text or call Tyelko as soon as she was alone. Bad idea. Aredhel needed to get her thoughts settled and he needed to talk to Tyelko.

It would be a good idea for her to talk to Fingon. It was one thing to do what he had done tonight, function as a sympathetic ear for her in the aftermath of her panic attack. It was another thing to confide in her elder brother, who knew her and her history so much better than Maedhros did.

He had every intention of texting Fingon once Aredhel was out of the car and safely home.

Safely being the operative word here. The way she had jumped into his car—it was impetuous and impulsive and downright dangerous. Granted, he might be more biased toward unknown cars than most but still.

It had been a foolish, risky action. And he needed to spell that out. This night could have turned out considerably worse if she had done that anywhere else.

"Aredhel, there's just one more thing I really want to talk about before I drop you off."

She huffed out a breath and her head dropped back onto the headrest. "Yes, Maedhros," she said testily. "I do realize you are going to tell Fingon all about this." She turned to look at him. "I was expecting it."

This was not the topic Maedhros had intended to address. She was correct, of course. It was his responsibility to give Fingon a heads up about the events of the day—for Aredhel's sake and Tyelko's too.

"I do plan to talk to Fingon," Maedhros admitted. "But that wasn't what I meant."

"What then?"

"You do realize you jumped into a random, unknown car tonight? I could have been anyone."

She frowned and jutted her chin out. Valar above, he'd seen that expression often enough from his younger siblings. Here came the defensiveness.

He was not wrong.

"Yes, but you weren't just some random person. Who else but one of you lot would even be on your driveway? It was bound to be one of you or the car service. That's it." She folded her arms across her chest.

Maedhros successfully fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes. This time. This time it was me."

"I highly doubt random people are going to be showing up in your driveway, Maedhros."

"You'd be surprised," he ground out, gruffer than he had intended. "Random cars with malicious intent are not outside the realm of possibility for our family."

"Oh, shit!" Aredhel said, sitting up and staring at him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. That was awful of me. I'd bloody forgotten about the car thing." Her hands went over her face. "I'm such a fucking idiot, really I am."

"Just be more careful in the future," Maedhros said, his words coming out clipped. "Check the bloody app. Confirm the make of the car. Check the license plate, the driver's name. You know this, Aredhel. Don't try to make me think you don't."

"I can take care of myself, Maedhros."

"You may think that until you bloody well can't. Trust me on that. I had years of martial arts and fencing experience and it still happened to me. You're not invincible. No one is."

Maedhros turned onto the street that led to her house, his grip tight on the steering wheel. She had been fortunate tonight. Her blind panic had led her to make some stupid decisions. Panic did that. He knew that as well as anyone. But the bottom line was that she couldn't risk doing something like that again.

"I'm sorry. I just . . . I just wasn't thinking. I just wanted to go, go anywhere. I'm sorry I've been such an absolute shit tonight. You're just trying to be kind and I'm being a right hag about it all." He heard her exhalation of breath. "I'm really sorry, Maedhros."

"Apology accepted. I know it's been a rough day for you. I know how triggering these kinds of situations can be—words, locations, sounds—anything can take you back there." He glanced at her. "It still happens to me. You've seen that yourself. It's not something you can control—I'm aware of that—but your safety is what's most important."

He pulled into her driveway and stopped the car. "I'm going to talk to Tyelko when I get home. I know he's devastated, confused, upset. I can't tell him your story—it's yours to tell, not mine. But, if I may, can I reassure him that he's not done something terrible and that he should expect to hear from you in the morning?"

"Yes, please do that, Maedhros. And if you want to tell him . . . tell him there's some history there that's got nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. And that I'm sorry. Sorry for running out on him like that." Aredhel was yanking on the end of a strand of hair, her fingers twisting into it as she spoke.

"I will," Maedhros said. "I'll tell him you two will talk tomorrow." His gaze intensified as he met her eyes. "And please talk to Fingon. There are some things you need to work out for yourself, before you talk to Tyelko. For Tyelko's sake and for yours. I'm thinking Fingon can help sort some of that with you?"

Aredhel closed her eyes and leaned her head against the passenger window. "He's usually who I talk to, when I need to talk things out. He's going to say 'I told you so'—he's been telling me to come clean about all this to Tyelko for a while now."

"Sounds like the advice I was getting from Maglor and Tyelko a few weeks ago myself. Tyelko will understand, Aredhel. Trust me. And I'll sort him tonight, so don't worry about that."

The sound of the garage door opening startled them both. Fingon was illuminated in the light of the headlights, dragging a garbage can behind him. His face brightened as he recognized Maedhros' car. The garbage can thudded to a halt as he made his way to the driver's side of the car.

Maedhros rolled the window down at his approach.

"Maedhros!" Fingon's smile was wide. "I didn't expect to see you tonight." He peered into the car and a perplexed look briefly crossed his face before his smile took over again. "Hey, Aredhel. How'd you end up convincing Maedhros to bring you home?" He leaned in closer to Maedhros and raised an eyebrow. "Or did you just want to see me and offered to bring her home?"

"Something like that," Aredhel said, yanking open her car door and bolting towards the house. "Gotta take a shower. Thanks, Maedhros, for everything."

Fingon's head swiveled to follow her progress into the house and then he turned back to Maedhros, leaning in even further. "You want to come in for a bit, since you're here?"

"No," Maedhros shook his head. "I wish I could but tonight's not good. I've got some things I've got to do that can't wait." The disappointment on Fingon's face made him reach out to lay a hand on Fingon's forearm. "Listen. I was going to text you. There's a reason Aredhel scuttled out of the car like that."

"What happened?" Fingon's expression clouded over. "What's going on?"

Maedhros sighed. "It appears Tyelko decided to declare his feelings for her today. And it seems his word choices induced a panic attack rather than fondness."

"Oh shit."

"Pretty much. She bolted, leaving him stunned and confused. And then she proceeded to hoof it down the driveway, throwing herself into my car when I pulled up in the driveway."

"She did what?"

It took Maedhros a few minutes to bring Fingon up to speed and Fingon's expression was grim by the time he had finished. "I need to talk to her," he said simply.

"I think you do. I'm heading home to do damage control with Tyelko. I got her to promise not to impulsively call him tonight. They need to sort things out but preferably when they are both calmer. I suggested they meet tomorrow to do that."

"I'll talk to her," Fingon repeated. "What a mess. I told her she needed to tell him. I told her it would bite her in the ass if she didn't."

"Pretty much. It sounds like Tyelko told her he's looking for a relationship. Not just random hook ups or casual encounters." Maedhros knocked Fingon's shoulder. "Stop looking like that! Don't get all defensive—I'm not saying they've done that. I'm just saying that's not what he wants. So if she wants something . . . more like that . . . then she needs to let Tyelko know, ok?"

Fingon's frown was forbidding. "I'm on it. I told her she was reading him wrong. I told her just that."

"She's expecting an 'I told you so' from you. She said as much when I admitted I was going to give you a heads up about all this. I'll try and settle Tyelko down tonight. I think I can manage that. But if she's planning on talking to him tomorrow she's got to be ready to tell him something about what she's expecting from this relationship. Even if it's that's she's not sure. That's better than nothing."

"Got it. I'll save the lecture for another time. I'll see if I can get her to sort her feelings out a bit more clearly." Fingon leaned in further. "I'll text you later. Sorry she shit all over Tyelko's declaration of love. I'm sure it must have come as a shock to him."

Maedhros nodded. "It did. He's got some history himself that's likely not helping matters. I've left him in Maglor's not so tender care, so I've got to get home and figure him out. This kind of thing brings out Maglor's protective side—he's got his own baggage and I'm sure that's coming to the fore too."

"Sounds like you'll be up late then."

"Likely."

Fingon put his hands on Maedhros' face and drew him forward. His cold lips brushed across Maedhros' own in a soft kiss. "Thank you. For bringing her home and letting me know what went on."

Maedhros slipped a hand behind Fingon's neck and pulled him closer. He deepened the kiss this time, reluctantly leaning back a moment later. "Text me later. See you tomorrow perhaps?"

"I damn well hope so. I'm spending the morning looking at cars with Dad again. I'll either need to celebrate a successful car purchase or vent my frustrations about my eternally haggling father."

Maedhros laughed. "I can provide support for either of those outcomes."

Fingon could hear the shower running when he got upstairs. He slid to the floor across from the bathroom door and settled down to wait.

He heard the water turn off and the sound of a hairdryer soon followed. It gave him more time to gather his thoughts and figure out what he was going to say. Maedhros was right. Tonight was not for lecturing—it was for listening.

He looked up when the door opened and caught his sister's surprised expression.

"Really, Fingon?"

"I wanted to talk to you. Without everyone else around."

Aredhel leaned against the door frame. "Maedhros talked to you?"

Fingon nodded. "Just the bare minimum, I think. I'd rather hear about it from you." He stood up and moved to lean on the wall near her. "Your room or mine?"

It didn't take long for the story to come out. He leaned back against the wall and nodded his head, letting her talk uninterrupted.

Aredhel was seated on her bed, back against the headboard and legs pulled up to her chest. Her head was down, her hair falling around her except for the strand she was tugging on.

He stayed at the foot of the bed, giving her space.

She finally looked up at him, eyebrows drawn together, fingers twisting in that lock of hair. "So that's it. You can start in with the 'I told you so' lecture, Fingon. I'm expecting it. I'll just say this now, to save time-you were right. I should have said something to him earlier. I should have tried to figure out what the last two months meant to me."

He kicked at her foot. "I'm not going to lecture you. No point in it—you've already stolen my main talking points."

She rolled her eyes. He kicked her foot again. "Are you ok?" he asked.

Her forehead dropped to her bent knees. "Yeah. No. I don't really know."

Fingon scooted up the bed until he was seated next to her, his shoulder just brushing her own. "How can I help?"

She turned, resting her head on his shoulder, still curled up in a ball. He slipped an arm around her and pulled her a little closer.

"I want to call Tyelko. I want to apologize for just running out on him like that," she murmured into Fingon's shirt.

He ran his hand up and down her back, a repetitive, soothing gesture. "Not tonight, I think."

"But Finno. I can't get the look on his face out of my mind. He just looked . . . stunned and hurt . . . and I did that to him."

Fingon kept the steady motion of his hand going as he answered her. "You didn't mean to, you know that. It just happened—it triggered something unexpected and you panicked. It happens. You two definitely need to talk. There's no question on that. But if you call to say 'sorry' you're going to end up talking about what he said. And why it freaked you out. What you share is your business, Aredhel, but you've got to be prepared to have that conversation." He tugged gently on a strand of her hair. "You ready for that?"

"I don't know."

"And it's more than just your reaction. When you peel away the panic and think about what he actually meant rather than the response the words elicited in you—what are your thoughts on that? You've got to sort that out to, to be fair."

"I've been trying to. Casual and inconsequential has worked for me before. I thought . . . I thought I could do that with this too. But it isn't feeling right."

"What doesn't feel right about it?" Fingon asked.

The silence stretched out. He kept his hand on her back, the motions smaller and slower.

"It doesn't feel right to minimize it, I guess? I keep trying to tell myself it's just fun, it doesn't mean anything but it does. It does. I want it to be more but I'm . . ." Fingon's shirt was bunched in her fingers. "I'm scared to trust him, Finno. I can feel myself letting it happen but then I pull back. I can tell he's different, I can feel it, really, I can . . . but . . ."

"I think he'll understand if you tell him. He cares about you, Aredhel, that's obvious. And if he knows why you're hesitant, if he knows why things can get challenging—it will help him and you. You just need to talk to him, let him know what's going on. Then you can move forward at the right pace, for both of you." Fingon pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "If I've learned anything these past few months it's that communicating honestly is the best asset for a relationship."

Aredhel tilted her head up to look at him. "I just feel so stupid about it all."

"So did Maedhros. I told you that. He's been so ashamed about it and reluctant to accept that what happened wasn't his fault and wasn't under his control. You two are more alike than you think, Aredhel."

"His was much worse, Fingon, you know that. . ."

Fingon interrupted her. "Stop minimizing it, Aredhel. It may not be exactly the same but it's close enough. Yours could have been worse and you know it. It's left its mark on you, even if you don't want to admit it. It's affecting your relationships now, years later. Don't trivialize it."

She sat up, leaning away from him and crossing her legs and arms. "Fine. You're right. Turgon's right. It's still messing with me."

He sat crossed legged to face her. "It's not 'messing' with you. It's just residual defense mechanisms from a previously traumatic situation."

"A more clinical way of saying it messed with me, Fingon."

"Aredhel. It can only 'mess' with you if you don't identify it and confront it. Fact—we know it's affecting your approach to this relationship with Tyelko. Fact—we know it's affecting your interactions with him now too. We've identified that. So now we confront it. How do you proceed from here? Do you let that determine your actions? Do you let that override your feelings?"

Fingon reached out and took her hands in his. "I don't want to tell you what to do. How you feel about Tyelko is your business. If it's too uncomfortable to be in a relationship right now then you need to let him know that, for both your sakes. If it's uncomfortable but you want to try, because it means something to you and there's a potential there for something significant—then you need to tell him that too. And talk about how you move forward. That's all I'm saying—you need to figure that out before you talk to him. It's only fair."

Her hands tightened painfully on his. "It's not been uncomfortable, Finno. It's been so good until tonight. And tonight had more to do with me than him. It was my interpretation, my response, that led to what happened. I know that."

"But he doesn't."

"I know that."

"So it's time to tell him why. Why you reacted like that. I know it's hard to share but you're the one that needs to tell him. He deserves to know, not only because of tonight, but because he cares about you and doesn't want to inadvertently hurt you like this."

"I know." Whispered words this time.

"And with a declaration like that, he needs to know where this is going too. His heart's already invested, Aredhel, that's obvious from his words and actions. If you want to try, you have to let him know. If you want to back off, well it's even more important for him to know that."

She chewed on her lip, eyes downcast, hands still tightly gripping his own. "I want to try, Fingon. He makes me feel . . . when I'm with him I feel like me again. Like I can do and say what I want, what I think, what I feel and he just accepts that."

"That sounds worth it, Aredhel. It sounds like it's significant enough to work through this. It's hard to trust, I know that." Fingon's jaw clenched but he knew he had to say this. "It's hard to let yourself be seen, for who you are. It's raw and exposed and uncomfortable. But there are some people who are worth that."

"So I can't call him tonight?"

"No. Let Maedhros talk to him. Like you, he's raw and exposed and confused right now. Figure out what you want to say and how you want to say it. Then call him in the morning and set a time to meet. And then you two sort it out together, ok?"

"Can I text him that I'll call him in the morning?"

"You're not going to rest until you do, are you?"

She shook her head.

"Fine. Text him just that. Only that, ok?"

Aredhel dropped his hands and launched herself across the bed, knocking Fingon awkwardly against the wall as she hugged him tightly, face buried in his neck. "Hey," he said, "it's going to be all right." He shifted position and then circled his arm around her shoulders. "It's going to be all right."