More Than One Hundred Words About Maedhros by Himring

Maedhros on Free Will

Maedhros ponders the question of free will

Characters: Maedhros, Fingon

Rating: Teens

Warnings: mild sexual content, mature themes.

At the time it seemed so obvious to me which b2MeM prompts and posts I was reacting to here that I didn't record it. Now I can't find them... Anyway, the prompts were none of mine.

Read Maedhros on Free Will

Preceding me up those steep stairs, he suddenly turns and exclaims: ‘Ha, finally towering above you!’

And immediately, he demonstrates by pulling me close and cradling my head against his chest. His mood shifts, quicksilver, and now he is bending over me and whispering fiercely in my ear that he would choose me before all others, freely, under any and all circumstances--with a bit of added vehemence, dear Findekano, in order to eradicate any trace of doubt before it can arise. For he knows I am prone to doubt. But I do not doubt his sincerity, how could I?

I do doubt, sometimes, that we are free to choose. Buffeted by events, entangled in our flaws, we stumble our pre-ordained path, whether blind or seeing, until—almost—the blind seem the more innocent. Maybe all the freedom we have is only to resist or to consent. Maybe even the limits of our blindness or awareness, of our resistance or consent are inscribed upon us.

Only here, now, on the precipitous stairs between the first and the second floor of the disused guard tower, it does not matter. I lean against him, shifting my weight into his grip, letting him feel how he supports and balances me. He stops speaking, sighs and rests his chin on the top of my head. Findekano, with whatever of free will or choice I have, to you I give my consent. I do.

---

Chapter End Notes

 

There is a very murky connection between some of Maedhros's musings here and Boethius's Consolation of Philosophy. Too murky to be relevant, really.

After Rain

Before and after the Nirnaeth: a legacy.

Characters: Fingon, Maedhros, Elros, Elrond

Written for Elleth, in response to her cinquain A Moment After Rain.

Warnings: none.

Read After Rain

‘It’s a good thing I don’t mind the rain’, said Fingon, laughing, ‘considering where I live!’

He made a wide sweeping gesture; a spray of fine droplets flew from his braids and across Maedhros’s face.

‘Don’t you love the smell of the countryside after rain?’

***

Sun sparkled on rain drops beneath the eaves of Taur-im-Duinath.

‘Close your eyes’, said Maedhros. ‘Smell the wetness on the grass and on the trees.’

‘Why?’ asked Elros.

‘You need to know how things ought to smell to detect anything out of place that might be dangerous. And also…’

‘And also?’ asked Elrond.

Maedhros gave him a cautious smile.

‘And also just because: for its own sake.’

The Sound Of Our Voices

A Maedhros/Fingon fade-to-grey.

Warnings: moderate sexual content (not very explicit: see fade-to-grey).

Rating: Teens-ish.

Read The Sound Of Our Voices

He’s standing on the terrace, facing away from me, his hair aflame with the sunset. He gives no sign that he realizes I’m watching him, that he even knows I’m there, and yet I can tell, somehow, that he’s aware of me with every inch of his body. I don’t know how I know this, but I do; it’s difficult to remember now that not so long ago, I would have had no idea at all.

At night, I slip into his room. He’s sitting waiting, a book on his lap for company. And although his face lights up in welcome as I reach out to him, there comes a split second when my touch on his shoulder make him shy like a skittish horse. He stills as my hand slides down his arm; he closes the book carefully, puts it aside and, without a word, gives himself to me.

My first kiss almost takes us to the floor, but we make it to the bed, where love breaks over us in a great wave.

Findekano.

He would shout my name aloud if he could. I can see how his body strains to cry out, but instinct as much as willpower stifles his voice. It emerges as a mere thread of sound, barely above a whisper. I kiss his throat in trembling gratitude.

Findekano.

His lips move without a sound now. He does not speak much of love. It is my name that means all that to him and more.

I say: Beloved. Dearest, dearest love. Heart of my heart.

I want him to hear it. He lies listening. He raises his hand and, with the tip of his finger, touches the corner of my mouth. It rests there for a little while, then gently trails across my lips.

The Crowded Bed

Too many, too much...

Originally written for Aliana's Bad Sex Challenge--but only sort of.

Rating: Teens

Fingon's POV

Read The Crowded Bed

Yes, I am jealous sometimes. That might surprise him if he learnt of it: he knows I know that he would never look with desire on anybody else—that he could not bear to let anyone quite this close except for me.

And yet, see how crowded this bed gets! We barely have room to move until we toss out, one by one, Morgoth with all his orcs, Feanor and six brothers, and the entirety of the Noldor. And I, too, have taken to wearing the crown to bed until the moment comes when Maitimo eases the pressure on my temples with a whispered word, a loving touch.

No, it does not get easier with time. It gets worse.

‘Maitimo’, I beg him.

He hears me and, in reaching out to me, shoves inwardly with all his might, making a space between council room and battle field where we can still be together.  In that space, I breathe.

Spring Came Late That Year

Maedhros is trying, he really is. But the past gets in the way.

Characters: Maedhros and Elrond.

Written for B2MeM 2013--well, sort of.

Rating: Teens.

Warning: mature themes

Maedhros's POV

Read Spring Came Late That Year

If you were here. If only you were here. And he means—so many whose light has gone out of his darkening world—which used to be full of fire!—is chill and faded now—but especially the subtle scent of trust, the warmth of the encircling arms that defended him from himself—could not deserve, could not keep, has lost—is lost.
He claws his way back to some semblance of... Earth beneath his feet, sap rising in the boughs and the patient, too patient face of: Boy, they say you resemble Luthien, but I see—I see Turgon and Elenwe and Finwe and… This gesture of the hand, that turn of the head and.... But no, no memories now!
Boy, Elrond. Has he got what he needs? Silly question! Second-rate, third-rate, fourth-rate: stopgap. But: here, now.
‘I’m sorry, Elrond,’ Maedhros says, ‘I lost track of what you were saying. Would you mind repeating the question?’

---

Chapter End Notes

The B2MeM prompt was "Friendship", accompanied by the following quote:

"Long before, in the bliss of Valinor, before Melkor was unchained, or lies came between them, Fingon had been close in friendship with Maedhros; and though he knew not yet that Maedhros had not forgotten him at the burning of the ships, the thought of their ancient friendship stung his heart. Therefore he dared a deed which is justly renowned among the feats of the princes of the Noldor: alone, and without the counsel of any, he set forth in search of Maedhros; and aided by the very darkness that Morgoth had made he came unseen into the fastness of his foes."

Free Fall

More about love than about death, but ultimately about both.

Maedhros's POV

Rating: Teens

Warning: mature themes

Read Free Fall

The only way he knows how to do it is to let down his guard completely. And so there is a terrifying moment of utter defencelessness—the sickening plunge, the dizziness of free fall—before Fingon catches him, Fingon has him, and it is safe to yield and it becomes safe to want and to need. He supposes love ought to be easier than that, but he is a cripple, after all. That is how it is.

(He does not really remember the moment when Fingon succeeded in cutting him free from the cliff, the moment before Fingon managed to grab him and haul him back up. It is Fingon who remembers this.)

That is how it is—and he closes his eyes to the abyss and throws himself off the cliff again, braving the sick terror and praying that his marvellous cousin will not miss the catch, will not weary of the game. But he ends up safe in Fingon’s arms, each time—until the miracle fails to happen, not because Fingon has wearied, but because he is no longer there.

An Early Light

Maedhros experiences the arrival of early spring in Lothlann, just after the foundation of Himring.

Gen. No warnings.

Read An Early Light

Spring has finally come to the plain of Lothlann. Winter was long and hard, but now most of the snow has melted, except for the occasional patch that endures in shaded hollows, its surface encrusted with ice and rimmed with dirt. The nights are still cold, so very cold—but, when the sun comes up, the plain is bathed in a cool brilliant light and the blades and stalks of last year’s withered grass gleam a pale yellow.

And in the middle of it all is Maedhros, running.

The earth is soggy with snow melt. Everywhere there are puddles. In places, they converge into little streams and small ponds. In this season, much of the plain of Lothlann is marshy ground.

And in the middle of it all is Maedhros, running.

Winter was long and hard. What little there remained of wildlife on the plain of Lothlann struggled to survive; many small beings died of hunger and frost. Now they emerge cautiously into the light from their burrows and lairs. The very first migrants from the South return.

The new arrivals on their high hill, too, suffered this winter, cooped up in their half-built fortress. Conditions were harsher than expected. Stocks intended to last for the whole of the cold season ran low. To them, also, the first signs of thaw were a sign of renewed hope and a great relief.

Maedhros leaps a brook. His legs are already splashed with thin black mud almost up to his thighs. His hair has come undone, as it always does, and whips around him in a wild tangle, as he swerves to avoid a rabbit burrow. He goes straight on running.

It is spring in northeast Beleriand—it is still early in the First Age of the World—and in the middle of it all is Maedhros, running.

The Void

Set in Valinor after Maedhros's re-embodiment.

Angst, hurt/comfort

Teens

Read The Void

He did not need a lot of sleep at first, after his re-embodiment, but he was entirely content to lie in bed beside Findekano at night, silent and unmoving in the dark, as the hours slipped by unnoticed and he listened to Findekano breathing as he slept, in, out, in, out—marvelling at that unguessed, unforetold miracle.

And then, for a moment, distracted by who-knows-what, his attention wandered. He realized there was a breath he had not heard and straight away panic seized him. He listened hard, strained to catch the uninterrupted rhythm of Findekano’s breathing again, but already his heart was hammering, the veins in his temples pulsing, there was an icy rushing in his ears—he could hear nothing beyond his own fear, could not reach out, could not move… Only the fear and the darkness remained.

‘This is the Void’, Maedhros thought.

And then Fingon stirred, sat up and lit the lamp.

Adequate

Sometimes more is less.

Mild Hurt/Comfort (Maedhros/Fingon)

Teens

Read Adequate

‘Is it all right?’ he asks Findekano.

‘Better than all right and you know it,’ answers Findekano.

But better than all right is less than all right for Nelyafinwe Maitimo, for people—other people than Findekano—have heaped extravagant and fulsome praise on him at times in the past, only for it to turn out that he was not good enough—not fit for purpose—in the end.

‘Is it all right?’ He whispers the same question again, almost to himself, a bit hopelessly, because he knows he is not making sense.

‘Maitimo,’ says Findekano, taking him by the chin, looking into his eyes. ‘It is all right—it is entirely alright! Just…perfectly…adequate…’ He stands on tiptoe and kisses him lightly on the tip of his nose.

Maitimo smiles and Findekano kisses the upturned corner of his mouth.

Breadth and Height

On one of the less often considered disadvantages of being the lover of Maedhros the Tall.

Humorous fluff originally written and posted (on LiveJournal) as a birthday present for Havisham (Agelast).

Rating: Teens (mild sexual content).

Read Breadth and Height

It started with a bit of leisurely kissing by the fire. But then it grew a little less leisurely and gradually almost urgent--and in a sudden impulse Findekano swept up Maitimo from his seat, feet dangling, and headed for the door to the bedroom.

But there, as he began to reach out for the latch, he encountered a hitch--because it was very clear that Maitimo wouldn't fit horizontally through that doorway. Although it was quite a decent-sized doorway, really, it simply wasn't wide enough for Maedhros the Tall.

The solution to that problem should have been as easy as it was obvious: just put Maitimo down and let him walk into the bedroom on his own feet. But holding Maitimo in his arms as he was, Findekano felt a strange and irrational reluctance to release him, even for a moment. And so, at that point, proceedings ground to a temporary halt.

'Just occasionally, it would be convenient if you were a little less tall,' said Findekano, grimly.

'Yes,' agreed Maitimo.

Whereupon he drew up his knees, scrunching himself into as tight a ball as he could against Fingon's chest, while snaking a long arm around to release the catch of the door.

Fingon Toasts the Stars

Fingon, by himself, musing on the night sky, glass in hand.

Actually less than one hundred words (despite the title of the series) and also in free verse, but it seemed to fit here better than in any of the other collections.

Rated Teens on other archives, for not very tangible reasons to do with mood.

Read Fingon Toasts the Stars

The stars are bright tonight.

On such a night as this,
our forebears woke beside the lake of Cuivienen,
looked up into the sky--and fell in love.

On such a night as this,
we stood atop a tower--our senses reeling--
and traced the lines of Wilwarin above,
his hand in mine...

Nothing endures; the bosom of the Earth crumbles away.
Even the stars--like scattered blossoms blown
across the sunless spaces, innumerable--
shall one by one snuff out.

No matter:
Stars,
here's looking at you.

---

Chapter End Notes

Apart from the allusions to Tolkien's works, there's a bit of Shakespeare in there and also shades of "Casablanca", I guess.
The scene on the top of the tower is meant to be the one at the end of my story "Looking at the Stars and Counting the Hours", but feel free to imagine something else, if you wish.