Reconciliation by Ariana

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Chapter XIV

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Chapter XIV

They sent for the healer in the late morning as it was agreed – as soon as Maedhros woke. Alcarino passed Maglor in the doors to the sickroom and suggested that they should be left alone. The singer nodded and muttered something about breakfast, but did not seem offended.

“How are you feeling?” asked the healer as he sat on a chair.

“Alright.” Maedhros responded automatically.

“I don’t ask to bother or bore you,” Alcarino reminded him. “I need to know, so I expect an honest answer.”

Maedhros just sighed resignedly and made a movement as if he wanted to cover himself up to his nose, but decided against it and simply wiped his eyes.

“Weak.”

“May I?” Alcarino reached to the sick elf’s face, but didn’t touch before he got a permission. Maedhros seemed reluctant to accept any kind of touch, even though he was aware where he was and with whom. The healer preferred being overly careful than agitating him unnecessarily.

“The fever is mostly gone,” he said, pleased. “Good, you respond more quickly to my treatment. You’re getting stronger.”

Maedhros snorted doubtingly and watched in silence as Alcarino uncovered the bandages on his stump. His eyes never left the healer and he followed his every move.

“I want you to tell me if something hurts. Without hiding anything.”

“Ribs, here,” Maedhros pointed at his right side. “Not much,” he added flatly.

“Arm?”

“Only when you touch it.”

“Good.” Alcarino redressed the stump and then bent and straightened the elbow joint a few times. “And with such movement?”

“No,” replied Maedhros, showing first signs of discomfort.

“I want you to sit up.”

“Later...” muttered the wounded elf and turned his gaze away. Alcarino expected his mood to be worse, but Maedhros seemed mostly just tired and disheartened.

“Now, Nelyafinwe. Let me,” he placed his hand behind his back and helped him as not to bother his tender ribs. Maedhros leaned forward and supported himself by placing his elbow on his knees. “Tell me if something’s wrong.”

Alcarino moved his arm up, watching his response. Maedhros was staring grimly at his blanket, but when his arm reached the shoulder level, he sucked air and stiffened.

“Don’t!”

“Does it hurt?” The elder elf obediently lowered his arm a bit.

“No. Leave it,” hissed Maedhros urgently. “Don’t move it up,” he requested. “What for, anyway?”

“The joints are healing nicely,” explained Alcarino calmly, letting go of the maimed arm. “I wanted to check the range of movement, you will need to exercise this arm. Now, move it as much as you can on your own.”

Maedhros sighed, irritated, but he moved his arm back and forth a few times, without even trying to lift it. As soon as he decided he pleased the healer, he hugged his arm closely to his chest. Alcarino didn’t push him more, just helped him move and lean comfortably against the pillows.

“Don’t overdo yourself today,” he ordered. “Today, tomorrow, you’re in no hurry, but you may get up if you wish.”

“I don’t.”

“Maitimo?” Called Amras from the doorstep. “What would you like to eat? Anything particular? There is some stew from yesterday’s supper, plum pie, groats if you want...”

“A pie perhaps,” muttered Maedhros with little enthusiasm; Alcarino felt he would have refused to eat at all if not for his presence. “Some milk, warm,” he asked suddenly with more interest.

“How about some bread with honey?” suggested Amras, following the line of sweets. “It’s still warm.”

“Why not.” The sick elf nodded and the youngest son of Feanor went to the kitchen. “Alcarino, would you like to eat with us?”

“No, thank you,” the healer smiled. “I will just leave you something for the fever, I’d like to eliminate it completely. Drink once you’ve eaten something,” he said and left.

Maedhros was left alone for a moment, but Amras soon returned carrying a tray with breakfast. He sat on the bed once he realised Maedhros was not going to get up. He opened the small legs of the tray and placed it on his brother’s legs.

“It’s too much,” stated Maedhros when he saw a plate full of sweet sandwiches and cake.

“It’s not just for you,” Amras smiled and grabbed the nearest loaf.

The sick elf sipped the hot milk and reluctantly reached for food. He wasn’t particularly hungry, rather weary, but honey was good, sweet, it ran down his fingers, but somehow it reminded him in a simple, childlike way that nothing bad could happen to him, that the vivid memories from the last night were not real.

He ate lazily and listened to his brother talking about his trip from the previous day. Amras was a bit quiet at first, and Maedhros felt as if he was trying to burn a hole in him with his intense stare. Soon, though, Amras became chatty and seemed not mind at all that the sick elf barely answered. The longer Maedhros listened, the more he felt like his youngest brother was hiding behind that cheeriness. He forced two loaves of bread and pushed the plate towards Amras.

‘What happened?” he asked finally, no longer able to bear the false enthusiasm of his brother.

Amras quieted a once and just shook his head. A smile returned on his lips.

“Do you want anything else?” he asked, grabbing another piece of cake. “No? Alcarino left this for you to drink,” he reached for the mug on the nightstand and passed it to his brother. “You’d sleep a bit more, wouldn’t you?”

Maedhros shuddered at the thought, but he knew what effects Alcarino’s potions had on him and he couldn’t hope they would not send him to sleep, especially after a feverish night.

“Perhaps... Not that I wish to,” he admitted without hesitation. He caught Amras’s gaze and was again struck by the sadness hidden behind the smile that did not reach his eyes. “What happened, Ambarussa?” he asked again.

“Nothing, Maitimo, nothing,” Amras reassured him with little conviction and he helped his brother lay down. “You scared he yesterday,” he confessed when he was leaning over his brother and was sure Maedhros could not see his face.

“I can imagine...” The eldest son of Feanor moved a bit, because Amras clang to him and didn’t look like he was going to let go of him. “But it was so real, I thought...”

“I know.” Amras suddenly went serious and he moved back; gone was the childishness of the young elf that had just embraced him. “I know how vivid it can be. I saw the ships. Yesterday, the day before...” he said quietly, then composed himself and tried to smile.

“Don’t do that, Ambarussa,” asked Maedhros and grabbed his hand. “Don’t hide.”

Amras swallowed and nodded, wiping his eyes with one hand, grasping Maedhros’s with the other. The eldest son of Feanor returned the grasp and suppressed a yawn.

“May I stay?” Amras asked quietly. “It’s so lonely in my... Sleep, I’ll just...”

“Yes. Please, stay,” insisted Maedhros before his brother decided again he was troubling him. He too did not wish to be alone right now, and the mention of the ships suggested just how his youngest brother missed his twin. “Come here,” he moved a bit to make some space at the edge of the bed.

Amras didn’t need to be told twice. He laid on the edge and buried his nose in his brother’s arm. Maedhros closed his eyes and focused on the heat of his brother; he was safe.

xxx

Maglor feared that the fall, in addition to regress in recovery and nightmares, would depress Maedhros more than the incident with the bench. However, the sick surprised them all, because though he was weary and reluctant for the first two days, he did not push his brothers way. On the contrary, he sought their company and showed interest in anything related to the daily life in the settlement. He grasped all the information and gossip his younger brothers provided him with, as if he wanted to reassure himself that the dungeons were only illusions and shield with everything he heard.

But first of all, he was interested in his youngest brother. After that feral night, Maglor was surprised to find both of his redhead brothers sleeping peacefully in the sickroom. He knew Amras had not been sleeping well recently; no wonder, as it was another anniversary of their coming to Middler09;Earth and the burning of the ships, but his youngest brother had learned to hide well that the nightmares were bothering him again. Because of all the commotion around Maedhros, Maglor had not had an opportunity to talk to him, and he doubted Amras went to anyone else. He learned later from Maedhros’s worried questions that it was him who got him to talk. The singer told him how Amras had coped in the past years when he was sure the youngest could not hear them. He hardly hesitated; Maedhros insisted, and taking care of their youngest drew attention from his own problems, so Maglor hid nothing. Only later a knowing smile Amras sent him made him realise that the younger redhead knew exactly what he was doing, aside from the fact that he longed for Maedhros’s company.

After two days Maedhros grew bored of laying in bed and started getting up again. To Maglor’s relief he did not oppose having company during his walks, just in case.

xxx

After his last visit ten days ago Fingon was a bit anxious what he would find this time, but Amras greeted him friendly and told him Maedhros was probably in his room. He didn’t act like he was going to lead him there, so Fingon took it as an invitation to walk freely around the house.

Indeed, he heard voices from his friend’s room, but also some commotion.

“Have mercy, Moryo!” Fingon heard his cousin and he pushed the door without knocking...

Only to get some soft, richly embroidered fabric thrown right in his face. After a second look it proved to be a knee-long robe, the kind they would wear at their grandfather’s court during some official events.

“Findekano, how nice,” Maedhros greeted him with amusement, seeing his cousin froze at the doorstep with the robe still in his grasp.

The second person in the room was Caranthir standing by the open wardrobe, red up to his ears. Fingon wondered which of them had amused Maedhros so.

“I can see you are feeling better,” he smiled. “Morifinwe,” he greeted his cousin pleasantly.

“Yes, and my loving younger brother decided it is a great opportunity to throw my wardrobe inside out,” snorted Maedhros. “You’ve come just in time.”

“Pffff. I have enough of seeing you in those long shirts,” said Caranthir, offended. “Tell me he doesn’t look better this way, Findekano,” he added challengingly.

Fingon took a closer look of his friend seated comfortably in an armchair. Maedhros was wearing a soft, dark blue robe and loose linen trousers. The robe was buttoned up to his neck and so it covered the collarbones. No clothing could mask the gaunt face of the eldest son of Feanor, just like nothing hid his slim fingers or his maimed arm, but with his hair evenly cut he looked healthier than last time.

“Definitely.”

“Would you like a drink?” offered Maedhros, pointing at the carafe on the table.

Caranthir listened to the chatting as he sorted his brother’s clothes, putting away those that needed different bindings and those Maedhros refused to wear any more. He admitted that now that Maedhros was not is such a bad mood and did not ignore his brothers, their cousin’s visit was not so unpleasant. Fingon agreed the wine was good and voiced his appreciation of their trading contacts. Their own exchange, as he said, was rather poor. Finally Caranthir could not resist and joined the conversation.

“And would you like?” he asked, which caused both his brother and cousin stare at him in astonishment. “Don’t look at me like that,” he snorted, irritated. “We keep in touch and trade many things. Our smiths are considerably better, so they provide us with material and we make various things... I’m going with another delivery next week. If you wish, you may send someone, I will help you get in touch. Providing that you have something to trade, that is,” he added mockingly.

 “Of course. It’s a generous offer, Morifinwe.”Fingon smiled and bowed in thanks. “I will speak with my father about it, he will certainly wish to accept.”

“Let me know,” Caranthir summed up shortly and went out with armful of clothes. It was worth to offer such thing to their cousin to please Maedhros.

xxx

“You have worse mess than father when he got struck by an idea,” heard Curufin.

Astonished, he put away the nails and glanced at Maedhros standing at the doorstep. What surprised him more was a satisfied smile on his brother’s face. Valar, how he missed that smile! For a moment Curufin could see the old Maedhros in this gaunt shadow that was leaning against the doorframe and resting.

“I am cleaning, can’t you see?” he snorted with feigned offense, but his eyes were smiling.

“No.” His brother was looking at his workshop with visible interest, as it there was anything interesting to see. Curufin was painfully aware his temporary forge could not be in any way compared to their father’s workshops in Aman, and Maedhros was never really much into blacksmithing.

“Ehem.” Curufin cleared his throat, glancing at his brother’s bare feet, as soon as he stepped inside. “No way, Maitimo. You said yourself I have a mess in here,” he pointed out.

“I need to sit down,” said Maedhros shortly and Curufin momentarily pointed at the bench by the wall.

His eldest brother didn’t seem to be in talking mood, so Curufin went back to his work. He only placed a box at the door to allow more air inside and busied himself with all the things on the table he needed to order. He knew better than to ask Maedhros how he was feeling, so he just kept glancing at him from time to time. He changed his mind when he realised his brother sat stiffly, ready to run away, and the content that please him so had vanished.

“What’s wrong?” Do you want to go out?” he asked carefully.

“No.” Came a quick response; too quick to be genuine. “Your smithy is alright,” said Maedhros as if he was trying to make himself believe it.

“I should say so.” Curufin stopped moving the boxes. He stared at his brother for a moment, trying to understand; then it dawned on him. “Did... did they force you to work?” he asked carefully, though he feared that his brother, once pushed too much, would shy away and close on him. So far Maedhros had not spoken much about his captivity and never voluntarily. It was Alcarino who got most of the information when he tried to establish the reason of the slow healing of the wounds.

“Forges, mines, stone-pits...” said Maedhros in a flat voice. “With no light nor air... But it is alright here,” he repeated, still not entirely convinced.

Curufin suddenly realised how much the noises from his forge must have unsettled Maedhros and why he insisted so much to come here. The smith hesitated only for a moment, then decided he could improve his brother’s thoughts about forge.

“As you are already here, I have something for you,” he stated and reached inside a coffer standing by the wall. He took a long package, covered carefully with a cloth, and placed it before Maedhros.

The eldest son of Feanor looked at him with surprise and removed the cloth. He was stunned when he saw a sword and he traced the patterned grip. Finally, he decided to grab it so Curufin held the hilt and they bared the blade together.

“If it doesn’t fit you, I’ll adjust you another one.” The smith was first to break the silence. “The blade is light, it should serve you well.”

“I won’t use it without a hand,” Maedhros pointed out painfully, but he stared at the sword, mesmerized.

“So you will learn to handle it with your other,” stated Curufin simply. “I know you will.”

His left fingers felt wrong on the grip, the movement was unnatural and the sword itself was too heavy, so that Maedhros was hardly able to lift it. But just like his brother claimed, the blade was light and the eldest son of Feanor was not going to check the balance. Curufin might have claimed the right to do some adjustments, but he would surely be offended if Maedhros openly checked the blade.

“It’s too heavy for now.” Maedhros sighed with regret and placed the sword on the table. It was good to feel the familiar weight again, even if it was all amiss. “When did you do it?”

“I started the day Maglor brought you here,” admitted Curufin, suddenly abashed. He looked away, so he didn’t see Maedhros’s expression. “I hope it will serve you well.”

“Thank you, brother.”

Maedhros traced the inscriptions made by his brother on the blade. The concept of fighting with his left hand should not have sounded so foreign to him, as he had no other choice; nevertheless, Curufin surprised him with his plain statement. He was not so sure himself, but he would have to learn sooner or later. And... Curufin believed in him before he had even woken. And if his younger brothers trusted he would get a grip and regain his strength, he could not let them down.

Lost in thought, he did not see when Curufin left. Without his brother, the forge stopped looking homely at once and Maedhros found it airless. He rose slowly on his feet and went deeper into the workshop to search for Curufin.

The forge was definitely not a place for someone with as fragile balance as his. Maedhros tripped time after time and when he caught himself from falling, he pushed a box which fell down with a loud crash.

“Valar! Maitimo, what are you doing?!” Curufin ran inside and glanced at his brother worryingly.

“Nothing... Forgive me,” muttered Maedhros, embarrassed, looking at the mess at his feet. “You went out.”

“Now I am back,” the smith pointed out and led his brother from the pieces on the floor. “I told you it’s not a place to walk barefoot,” he sighed as he saw the reddened toes. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“No. Truly, Curvo,” stressed Maedhros, because his brother didn’t seem convinced. He allowed to be seated again on the bench and watched as Curufin swiped all the spilled parts and put them in a flat box. What surprised him, though, was the fact that Curufin placed it before him and then the feral box with compartments.

“Why are you staring at me?” The younger of the brothers snorted in amusement. “I told you I was cleaning and you have just messed it all.”

Maedhros took a closer look at all the small parts, then at the box which, as he suspected, was not described in any way. He sighed ostensibly.

“Do you have any particular order?”

“Put the similar ones together.” Curufin just shrugged and went back to work.