Chapter XVII
Maedhros woke up hungry. This plain sensation surprised him, as he expected rather the opposite. The fact was, though, that he was well-rested despite the unpleasant ending of the previous evening and his stomach reminded him that he had barely touched his supper. His room was pleasantly chilly after the night and the sun was glancing inside through the open window; high time to get up.
The previous evening mingled somehow from the moment when Maglor took him from the dining room. They had surely talked and for some reason his younger brother seemed to be on verge of tears. Then Maedhros let him prepare one of Alcarino's potions and he slept peacefully for the whole night.
He would have gone to the kitchen just like he was, if it wasn't for the fact that he could meet strangers. He washed his face and changed the wrinkled shirt; he had not bothered to undress in the evening.
He suspected correctly, because though Caranthir's guests were nowhere to be found, he met Maglor and Amras with their cousins in the kitchen. Only his youngest brother looked fresh, the rest of them seemed rather sleepy over their plates.
"Have you forgotten to offer beds?" Maedhros smiled at Maglor, glancing knowingly at their cousins.
"We stayed up all night," the singer admitted sheepishly and rubbed his eyes. He loudly pushed his chair from the table.
"Sit," Maedhros stopped him and glanced into the pot on the cooker. The meat was cold, but cut into pieces and it smelled delicious. He fished out a piece on a free plate, ignoring his younger brothers, especially Maglor, who shifted uncomfortably.
"Would you like some milk?" Amras, busy around the long table, glanced questioningly at his brother. "Juice?" He offered when Maedhros shook his head.
"Could be." The eldest son of Feanor nodded and sat next to Maglor. He cast his cousins a questioning look, seeing that they stopped eating. "Has something happened?"
"No, noting." Fingon shook his head and smiled at his friend. "It's just that the morning came no one knows when."
Maglor still looked a bit tensed, though he smiled as well. Even Finrod seemed somewhat anxious, but soon he engaged himself in conversation with Amras and the uncomfortable silence was gone.
Maedhros decided against asking what they had talked about at night; he would ask his brother later, alone. Their cousins became chatty and along with Maglor they were a pleasant, though a bit sleepy company. Amras ate hastily and went out, explaining that he promised to help Caranthir, but the cousins waited for Maedhros to finish his meal before Fingon stated it was high time for them to go back.
xxx
In comparison to the morning, around the noon the yard was completely empty and, what Maedhros realised at some point, boring. Fingon and Finrod had left, glancing at him weirdly even as they had said goodbye. Maglor followed his brother's advice and went to catch some sleep; Maedhros checked it later by glancing through the open window in his room. Despite what he and their cousins had claimed, he seemed rather hungover.
Before Caranthir and Amras disappeared with the SIndar, Gilorn surprised Maedhros by greeting him in clumsy quenya and uttering apology for disturbing him the previous evening. The eldest son of Feanor did not try to reply in Sindarin and left the translation of their short conversation to Caranthir.
Boring. Maedhros sat for a while on the empty yard, but at some point he decided he'd had enough. There was no point in waking Maglor just because he felt lonely, and the rest of his brothers and Celebrimbor had gone to trade somewhere in the settlement; only Celegorm had left for a hunt and wasn't back yet. Then Maedhros thought about Alcarino and his exercises. The healer mentioned he would come in the afternoon, but what stopped Maedhros from going to him...
He stood up and went slowly across the yard. He knew Alcarino lived in one of the nearby houses. Who said he could not check in which? He was in no rush...
Right behind the forge there was an alley going the opposite direction than the way they went with Amras to the lake. Maedhros didn't know it, but there were gardens between the next few houses, so it seemed logical one of them had the healer's herbs. He went along the wall, just in case he needed support, but the forge ended and the next part he had to make with nothing to hold on to. Each step was pleasant, the house before him different, unknown.
The walk, though satisfying, quickly proved to be tiring. Maedhros passed the second house and replied to the greetings of its surprised owner, but as he reached the next garden, his legs were already shaking with effort.
"May I?" he asked the elf leaning over the vegetable patches, as soon as he noticed a bench on the yard.
The Noldo glanced at him and jumped on his feet. Maedhros recognized one of his friends and companions from the times when Maglor was a little child clutching to his legs.
"Nelyafinwe." The elf seemed abashed as he crossed the patches.
"Vorindon," Maedhros nodded with a smile and reached his hand to support himself, though his friend was just sweeping the ground from his hands. "May I?" he pointed at the bench, trying to ignore the fact that Vorindon used his father name instead of his epesse. And he used to call him Russandol...
"Oh, right, of course." The elf recovered and led Maedhros through the vegetable patches. He could not take his eyes off his king, but when their eyes met, he looked away.
"Thank you." Maedhros sat with relief next to the basket full of vegetables. He breathed deeply, glad that he managed to avoid falling. Alcarino warned him to be careful and he did not intend to be bedridden again simply because he overestimated his strength.
"How are you feeling?" asked Vorindon carefully, crouching beside him. His hand stopped for a moment at Maedhros's, as if he wanted to make sure his guest was real.
"I am fine," replied the eldest son of Feanor sincerely. He knew his fatigue was temporary and once he rested a bit, he would be able to go further. "I'm trying to get to Alcarino."
"Shall I fetch him? Do you need anything?" worried Vorindon at once. "Alcarino lives there," he pointed at the smaller house on the other side of the alley. "I can send someone..."
"There's no need." Maedhros shook his head. "I will just rest a bit and go, it's nothing important. But I didn't intend to disturb your work."
"I am glad you came." Vorindon relaxed a bit, a smile appeared on his lips. He went back to his vegetables and lifted a bouquet of some plants he was removing from between the carrots. "I'll lead you to Alcarino whenever you wish, I was going to bring him those anyway. His herbs grow better in my garden than his, somehow they always end up growing here. And Alcarino complains about my dill choking his herbs. I may say the same about his weed in my carrots," he snorted more freely.
"But otherwise he is a good neighbour?" asked Maedhros, amused, seeing that his friend was finding it difficult to normally talk to him. He had already gotten used to this; most of the Noldor he met felt awkward at first.
"Yes, of course." Vorindon crouched and went back to cleaning the vegetable patches. "But if we live in such small space, we need to get on."
Maedhros watched him in silence for awhile. He felt awkward without any of his brothers; awkward, but safe. Nothing could happen here.
"And how do you find living in here? In such conditions?" he asked, surprising his friend completely. "Speak freely. I... I want to know what was going on during my absence."
"Fine... We are getting accustomed to it," replied Vorindon carefully, but Maedhros could hear the hint of uncertainty in his voice. His host looked away, abashed, but then explode. "Forgive me I did not come earlier to see you, Nelya... Maitimo," he dared to correct himself as he saw Maedhros look.
His mother name stung, though a moment earlier his friend's distance hurt as well. In mouth of someone apart from his brothers and cousins, spoken with hesitation and uncertain glance if the rescued king, though a friend, would not feel offended, the name seemed more inappropriate than ever.
"Kanafinwe asked us not to come without good reason and... and don't disturb your peace, I guess," said Vorindon, visibly feeling an urge to explain himself. "But now I think I should have come as soon as I heard..."
"Kanafinwe can be very convincing, I know." Maedhros cut him off. He could guess how Maglor's order look like, though Vorindon was courteous enough to call it a request. He had seen how Maglor fretted over him so he suspected his orders were voiced so that no one would dare to disobey. That also explained why there was hardly ever someone on their yard.
"He is."
"But tell me about our settlement." Maedhros went back to the interesting matter. "Please."
Vorindon obeyed. At first he spoke carefully, avoiding the times when they were founding the settlement. Maedhros didn't push him, seeing how his friend was uncomfortable with going back to those hard days. He focused on the daily life to compare what he already knew with relation coming from someone outside his family. Vorindon confirmed his assumptions as how the daily contacts with Fingolfin's encampment looked like. That was something Maedhros expected, but his friend drew his attention to another matter.
At the other side of the lake lived a host of elves who followed his uncle and his cousins, but this was not what Vorindon stressed. The water separated two not overly friendly settlements, but it also divided families. Along with Fingolfin came many wives, sisters and brothers of those who had sailed to the Middle-Earth with Feanor. Those families almost did not see each other, though not all the elves were reluctant to keep in touch. The other settlement tolerated only official messengers sent sometimes by Maglor, because the activity of the Enemy concerned all the Noldor, and the sons of Feanor were vigilant and more familiar with the territory. But aside from this, no one was let inside and the elves from Fingolfin's settlement rarely came to their families on the southern coast, as not to cause unwanted tension.
Feanor's firstborn listened carefully, pleased that his friend was getting more comfortable in his presence. He tried some vegetables and fruits from the basket, ignoring the sand gnashing in his teeth. He focused on the longing in Vorindon's voice when he mentioned his sister. They had seen each other only twice since Fingolfin had come. They met in the forest, away from both settlements. From what Maedhros gathered, they were not a lone exception.
The sky clouded in amazing speed. Maedhros didn't really notice it as he listened to Vorindon, before the near thunder made him shiver uncontrollably. A violent storm was coming.
"It's time to go, I think." Vorindon glanced up. "I would gladly bring Alcarino those herbs before they get wet."
"Of course." Maedhros agreed eagerly and rose on his feet. He didn't really want to meet the storm outside; not just yet. "Lead the way."
xxx
The storm raged outside. The rain knocked to the small window and would not stop; on the contrary, it seemed to intensify. The dark blue sky was flashed with lightening time after time; the storm had come by the lake and did not intend to leave.
Maedhros watched it from the healer's safe, dry house. Alcarino made him do a set of exercises, but did not insist to try something new. Instead, he took care of the herbs brought by Vorindon and chatted freely with his patient.
Knocking to the doors almost disappeared in another thunder. Alcarino rushed to open, worried what had happened that someone was looking for him in such a downpour. The eldest son of Feanor followed him with his gaze, tensed, and relaxed only when the healer returned with soaking Maglor. Maedhros put down the mint tea his host had offered him and creased his eyebrows, seeing relief on his brother's face.
"Nelyo." Maglor exhaled deeply and wiped away the water dripping from his hair right into his eyes. "Are you alright?" he glanced at the window.
"Yes, of course." nodded Maedhros in astonishment, watching his brother drying his hair with the towel Alcarino gave him. "Seems it is I who should be asking," he remarked. "Come here, Makalaure," he ordered, putting his legs down on the floor and sitting straight. "What is wrong with you?"
Maglor glanced at Alcarino, but the healer just pushed him towards his brother, not caring that his guest was leaving puddles on the floor. The singer crouched by the bed, still anxious.
"I could not find you," he muttered. "Nobody's home."
"Don't you tell me you're afraid of a storm," Maedhros tried joking. "You were not so unsettled when we left for the lake with Ambarussa."
"With Amras," Maglor corrected him automatically. "No... but I thought that you may not like. The storm," he clarified hesitantly.
"I don't," Maedhros agreed with him. Alcarino needed some time to convince him to exercise when the storm was raging outside. "But that's not it, is it?" He inquired, remembering his brother's expression during their breakfast. He grabbed Maglor's shoulder and forced him to sit next to him.
"You asked yesterday..." The singer raised his head and looked him in the eye. "It's seventh summer since the sun rose," he choked out.
"Seventh..." Maedhros repeated numbly. Seven years since the sun rose he had spent on that cliff. And in the darkness? How many days? Hours? Seven sounded abstract and it was not all of the time of captivity, tortures and tears. A lot. Way too much.
Alcarino came closer, casting a questioning glance on one son of Feanor, then on the other. Maglor froe by his brother's side, unsure of his reaction, and Maedhros was staring blankly at the floor. He jerked only when another lightening hit somewhere near.
"Nelyo?" Alcarino inquired softly.
"There were storms too," replied Maedhros in an emotionless voice, fiddling with his brother's wet sleeve. "And so there was the first sun. There, on the cliff, I saw the sunrise," he explained.
Something must have been wrong with his comprehension, decided Maedhros, as Alcarino's face too showed terror. Maglor still looked at him with this strange mixture of fear and wonder and his long, skilful fingers clenched in his hand. Long. It was long, very long time, there, in captivity', repeated Maedhros silently. There. And he was here now. 'Here' was safe. The storm was only outside.
"I think you will wait till the storm dies." Alcarino was first to recover. He poured another cup of mint tea and gave it to Maglor.
Maedhros nodded and sat more comfortably. He half listened to the talk of his companions, deep in thoughts. The rain poured outside.
xxx
The melody, at first quiet, shy, shaped slowly as Maglor played. His fingers plucked the strings, the tone rising and falling. There was longing, grief and pain falling deep into heart and Maglor played as if he wanted to enchant his own soul into the music. The lament, wordless song, mixed grief and hope, pain and joy.
At first he heard nothing except from the notes his fingers created, coming directly from his heart. He was sitting on the wide windowsill in his sick brother's room, but far enough from him to have a sense of being alone. At first he kept glancing at Maedhros, but then his music swallowed him whole. Maglor started playing, tasting his composition, then changed a few notes and repeated the sequence. Only when he finished forging the main theme of the melody and his fingers stopped pulling the strings, he realised the room was not silent.
Maedhros was weeping. He was sitting, leaning forward, with his right shoulder low, his left elbow resting on his knees. He covered his eyes with his good hand and his thin shoulders were shaking.
For a while Maglor sat frozen. It was the first time Maedhros allowed himself to show his grief so openly, to weep for all the years of captivity. So far he was irritated, impatient, but he never let his barriers down to expose himself so. Now tears were running freely down his hollow cheeks.
The eldest son of Feanor realised that Maglor stopped playing, for he raised his head. He did not wipe his tears, nor did he try to hide his emotions from his brother, but he stared intently at the harp, pinning Maglor to the windowsill. The musician took his instrument, his fingers ran swiftly on the strings. The intention was clear. Play. Don't come closer. Play.
And so Maglor did, torn between the call to come and comfort his brother and his order and urge to finish the song, to give his brother the space he so desperately needed.
Only when something like a painful sigh broke through the fading sobs, he finished playing and came to his brother. Maedhros did not push him away, he let him sit beside and embrace him.
"I thought I would never hear you singing again." Contrary to what Maglor expected, Maedhros was calm and collected when he spoke. "No, don't start again," he stopped his younger brother with a gesture, before he had a chance to try and apologise again.
Maglor could not help it. Maedhros had told him the first time that he was trying to forget, that he did not wish to go back to that matter, but in such situations as this Maglor barely stopped himself from apologising, though he knew his words would change nothing.
"So many years..." Maedhros shook his head. He let his brother draw circles on his back, leaning to his touch.
"But it's getting better now, Maitimo," said Maglor. "You're stronger, you're home, with us," he moved closer and carefully rested his head on his brother's arm, as if he was the one seeking comfort from Maedhros, not the other way round. Something he desperately wished for and consequently deprived himself of, when he was responsible for everything.
"This won't." His elder brother tried to swing his right shoulder, the elbow moved weakly. "But there are things that can be repaired," he added strongly and Maglor raised his head, surprised.
He expected Maedhros to calm down and go to sleep, but his brother... To say he was energetic would be too much, but there was some new determination burning in his eyes, something that seemed to be pushing him forwards. Well, even if it was a need for revenge, Maglor preferred it to apathy.
Maedhros surprised him again when he moved away and stared at him intently.
"Will you take me to the lake?"
The request itself was not surprising; since Amras had first taken his wounded brother to the lake a week earlier, Maedhros took a liking on a certain place on the shore and asked everyday to be taken there. So far Amras was the one taking him, once with Fingon when he visited, but today the day was already ending and Maglor thought Maedhros would be weary.
"Of course."
Maglor saddled Rimpalote and they went through the settlement undisturbed. The Noldor were getting used to seeing the eldest son of Feanor. Maedhros directed his brother to his favourite spot and when they stopped, he didn't wait for Maglor to tie the horse, but threw his shoes aside and carefully went to the water.
The singer smiled to himself, watching his brother's more steady movements. Maedhros stood at the edge for a moment before stepping to the water, not caring tha he was wetting his trousers. The bottom was abrupt there, so after a few steps he was knee-deep in water. Maedhros faltered but managed to catch his balance before Maglor got to him.
Maedhros glanced helplessly at his brother. The singer took out his shoes and rolled up his trousers before stepping into water. He gave his brother a hand to support him and untangled his leg from the branches lying under the surface.
"Thank you."
They came back to the edge and walked along, barely wetting their feet. The elder of the brothers didn't let go of the younger's hand, leaning firmly on the offered shoulder. They were silent.
"I wanted to speak with you before we are going to talk together," said Maedhros suddenly when his brother was about to ask if they should go back.
"Shall we sit?" suggested Maglor, seeing his brother was already tired of walking.
Maedhros nodded and they went to the trees a few steps from the lake.
"So, how exactly do our contacts with Nolofinwe look like?" asked the sick elf as he leaned comfortably against a trunk. Maglor threw on his back a cloak he was carrying and sat in front of him, his legs crossed.
"They don't look at all," muttered the singer reluctantly. "I mean, we do not have an open war, Findekano comes here, that yesterday's trip with Moryo was a huge step forward, but..."
"I need to know that, Kano," stated Maedhros firmly. "I know you have not been telling me everything at once." There was no reproach in his voice, just a plain statement.
"We didn't want to bother you until you feel better."
"I know, Kano." Maedhros picked a grass-stalk and fiddled with it. "Anyway, I need to know how things look like before I decide what to do about it. It's high time. And how I feel has nothing to do with it."
"As you wish. Where should I begin?"
"You can start from the end." The eldest son of Feanor smiled. "Why did you take me from there before I even woke?" He asked; just the one matter Maglor wished not to come back to. "I've seen you all watching my every move, I saw how tensed you were today, so what happened in our uncle's settlement that you risked so much? Findekano wouldn't tell me, whenever I asked about that."
"No wonder," sighed Maglor, but he obeyed.
He told his brother about the time spent in Fingolfin's encampment by his bed, about the reluctance he was faced with, about that feral conversation with Turgon. Maedhros was a good listener and scarcely interrupted. Maglor couldn't help but think that the weeks of being ill and weak had taught him to listen patiently when he was trying to keep himself entertained. Once he went through the worst, it was easier to talk about the relations between the two settlements and how much they kept in touch. Then his brother did not interrupt at all.
"Long story short, we have a problem." Maedhros summed up. "We have a common enemy in the East, but our settlements do all they could not to keep in touch."
"We do keep in touch when it comes to matters of safety," objected Maglor. "But yes, in general you can say so. But it is changing, Findekano being the best proof. And if Moryo was able to offer some cooperation, perhaps our relations are getting better."
"And we will wait for it what?" asked Maedhros sharply. "Another seven years? A decade or two? Until our Noldor forget about their families on the other side of the lake? Vorindon has told me how it is now."
Only now did Maglor realise that Maedhros didn't simply go for a walk, just like he probably wasn't talking to the Noldor passing by out of courtesy and the need to get used to the normal life again. His elder brother consequently collected enough information to form an opinion about their current situation.
"Where are you getting to?" Asked the singer finally, because it was clear his brother's inquires were leading somewhere.
For a moment Maedhros stared at him intently, judgingly. And then he explained.
Guess what comes next :)