Brother of Mine by downtide

Chapter 1

Quenya names as usual

Maitimo = Maedhros

Macalaure = Maglor

Findekano = Fingon

Read Chapter 1

When he was very small, Macalaurë was afraid of everything. Storms, banging from the forge, even the creaking of the house at night would fill him with such anxiety that he could not sleep. He dare not seek comfort from his parents at night, for his Amme slept with Atar, and he did not want Atar to know that he was afraid. So instead he would creep to his older brother's room and clamber into his bed. Maitimo would wrap his strong arms around the elfling and hum a quiet tune until at last Macalaurë's fear subsided and he slept.

As he grew older, Macalaurë ceased to be afraid of noises but still he would seek Maitimo's comfort when he was troubled. Later, after he and his brothers fled into Beleriand, he was troubled often.

"Be at rest, brother of mine," Maitimo would say. "No matter what happens, I will be here for you."

How things changed then, in Beleriand, and how Macalaurë mourned when Maitimo went to parley with Melkor, and for long years did not return. Macalaurë feared him dead and again his worries kept him awake at night.

When he was returned to them, Maitimo was broken. Macalaurë would hear him screaming in the night, plagued by nightmares of Thangorodrim and the pain of his lost hand. This time it was he who came to Macalaurë for comfort and the warm, strong arms that brought him sleep.

Sometimes their younger brothers would whisper maliciously about the nights they spent together, but neither Macalaurë nor Maitimo were much concerned by it. Let them whisper and spread their rumours. They both knew that Maitimo's heart and soul belonged to Findekáno, and they cared little for the rumours if it stopped the others from learning the truth.

Centuries passed; centuries of peace and bloodshed, and still the brothers would be one another's comfort. Escape from the nightmares into the warmth of innocent embrace. Troubles were shared and eased, and that old promise exchanged.

"Be at rest, brother of mine. No matter what happens, I will be here for you."

Maclaure was there when Findekáno was slain and Maitimo was torn with grief at the loss of the one to whom he was so strongly bound in love. For months the elder brother neither slept nor ate, but still Macalaurë held him at night and feared that he had not the power to give Maitimo the comfort that he needed.

"Kano!" Maitimo would cry in the night, and Macalaurë would go to him, knowing in his heart it was Findekáno for whom he cried, and not his brother Kanafinwe Macalaurë.

"Don't leave me, Kano," Maitimo wept.

"I won't leave you," Macalaurë replied, wrapping his arms protectively around his brother's shoulders.

Maitimo lifted his one hand to Macalaurë's cheek and brushed a finger along his jawline. "I know," he whispered. "Thank you. Thank you for being here."

"I couldn't be anywhere else. I love you."

Maitimo leaned forward and gave Macalaurë an affectionate kiss on the cheek as he had done many times before. This time, for the first time, the kiss lingered and brushed Macalaurë's lips. Macalaurë closed his eyes, a voice in his mind told him it was wrong, that it was not his brother Maitimo wanted, but Findekáno.

Macalaurë ignored the voice, and opened his mouth to receive the kiss.

That night, for the first time, the brothers made love. Innocent no longer, they both wept as Macalaurë gave the comfort that Maitimo could no longer share with Findekáno. "I am sorry, so sorry," Maitimo whispered, wiping tears from Macalaurë's cheeks while his own flowed unchecked.

"Hush now," Macalaurë replied. "Let us share the blame. We are damned anyway." He took his brother into his arms again and Maitimo slept at last, imagining it was Findekáno's arms that embraced him. Macalaurë lay awake through the night, torn between the utter wrongness of it all and the love that he felt for his brother. That night, for the first time, Macalaurë understood why he had never truly loved anyone else. It did not matter to him that Maitimo's heart and soul still belonged elsewhere as it had always done. All that mattered was that he was here to be his comfort.

Maitimo stirred in his sleep and Macalaurë stroked his auburn hair. "Be at rest, brother of mine," he whispered. "No matter what happens, I will be here for you."