Dispelling Rumours by Kaylee Arafinwiel

Dispelling Rumours

I copied this straight from my profile on Many Paths to Tread, so if it comes out looking weird, that's why. I can't figure out how to get the accents on just typing it out, but it should hopefully be readable, lol.

"Fin?"

The flame-haired ellon's call was answered by a wry smirk from his raven-haired
younger cousin, who sat at a table in the orchard, refusing to do his share of
the harvesting.

"Thou knowest that such a name couldst be used for half our kin," he commented.
The eldest son of Fëanor answered the remark with an apple thrown in his
cousin's direction, which the younger ellon caught deftly.

"Silence thy tongue, Findecáno son of Nolofinwë," Maedhros commanded.

"Thou'rt the one who began this discussion," Fingon replied, taking a bite of
the apple and placing it on the table. He poured them both some wine from a
purloined bottle and cast a satisfied grin at his kinsman.

"Thou speakest truly," Maedhros admitted, temper becalmed.

"What is thy will, Russandol?" Fingon inquired.

Maedhros actually blushed at the nickname, then cast a feigned glower at Fingon,
who shrugged.

"I was merely thinking," he began calmly, and Fingon rolled his eyes.

"Glad I am that thou'rt capable of such a high feat, Fëanorion," he remarked
dryly. This time the apple hit him, bouncing off Fingon's chest and rolling
across the top of the hewn oak table between them. Fingon grimaced and placed it
in the basket, hoping it wasn't spoiled, as the autumn winds blew around them.

"What wast thou thinking, then, Maitimo?" Fingon asked, rubbing his chest to
ease the pain of the blow.

"Canst thou not choose one name and be content?" Maedhros replied, rolling his
eyes and walking over to join his cousin at the table. He downed his goblet of
wine in one gulp.

Fingon smirked and switched to Sindarin. "If I was to accept the rumours flying
around thy royal father's demesne, I wouldst call thee `melethron'," Fingon
replied.

Maedhros' jaw dropped and he coloured deeply. A second later he was on his feet,
sword in hand. "Who sayest such?" he cried. "Who dares slander my honour and
thine? I love thee as close kin and dear friend, but not more!"

"No one important, Maedhros," Fingon said hastily. "Just some of thine adar's
servants. It is merely talk, no one will take them seriously." He poured
Maedhros another goblet of wine and passed him an apple.

"Here. Thou hast spent more time throwing them than eating them. Just because
our emil are not here doth not excuse poor table manners," he added archly,
though there was a note of sorrow in his tone.
Maedhros pulled his younger cousin close and clasped him in a warrior's embrace.
He leaned over to whisper in Fingon's ear. "Yes, Emig," he muttered. Fingon
threw back his head and laughed.

"So, cousin, what wast thou about to say?" Fingon inquired, once he had stopped
laughing. Maedhros took a sip of wine and shook his head.

"It is nothing, really," he said, but Fingon saw Maedhros' eyes flicker to the
place where his hand had once been. "I just…Gwador, I…" He stumbled over the
words. "Hantanyel," he finished, returning to Quenya, and Fingon smiled, giving
Maedhros a brother's kiss and replying in the same tongue.

"Thou'rt welcome, my brother. It was terrifying beyond measure to see thee in
such sore straits. Glad am I that I was able to rescue thee." He gave Maedhros a
smile. "Remember what mine atar always told us."
"Great is the Elf who goeth forth in battle and perishes for his people; but
greater still the Elf who hath gone forth to battle, survived, and learnt
lessons to teach his people," Maedhros said softly. "I have stood against the
Fallen and survived. This loss may be great to me, but `tis small compared to my
friendship and brotherhood with you, Fin."

Fingon nodded. "And that being said, my brother, mayhap we should finish this
wine before someone notices it missing and decides our bottom cheeks ought to
match the colour of these apples." Laughing, the cousins poured themselves
another goblet, and bent their heads together, whispering plans for the
loose-tongued servants who had dared to spread those rumours.

*Metta*

Chapter End Notes

Thank you to Fiondil for beta'ing this for me and providing the word 'emil', adding to my vocabulary.