Reconciliation by Ariana

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Chapter VIII

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Chapter VIII

The following days were full of anxious waiting. They all welcomed with hope every moment when Maedhros was conscious and lucid. Encouraged by his positive reaction to his first meal, they tried to give him various light dishes. Every time the wounded reacted almost like a child, tried the food and recalled long forgotten tastes. He usually didn’t finish his meals and fell asleep. He spoke little, almost nothing, because it wore him out. But he was certainly lucid sometimes and answered some questions.

Nevertheless, with every passing day the brothers realised that this tortured elf was not the Maitimo they remembered. It was understandable that Maedhros would fall asleep in the middle of conversation, but there were still times when he acted unpredictably. He would seek for the hand of the brother who was with him, only to shake a moment later and escape from the said hand caressing his hair. Maglor couldn’t help the feeling that the fea of their brother was somewhere there at the edge of consciousness, lurking uncertainly and testing the surroundings, only to run away at the slightest stress. Judging from Maedhros’s grimace and haunted gaze, he went straight back to the captivity.

They were catching him. Every day, bit by bit, they tried to capture their brother’s spirit and anchor it back in his body. Every small talk lasting longer than a quarter was another step to making Maedhros realise that he was safe, though Maglor sometimes thought they were still in a deep swamp. How else could they explain the fact that almost every day there was a moment when they needed to reassure him he was safe? Maedhros scared Curufin the most, when he was left alone for a moment. When the smith came back after a quarter at most, Maedhros welcomed him sobbing in relief, as if he thought long hours had passed and he had already lost hope to see his brother again.

And so every conversation was shadowed by nervous awaiting when Maedhros would stop answering and run away from them. For Maglor there was little difference between the present reality and the previous weeks, but Celegorm and Curufin couldn’t find themselves in this situation. Nevertheless, the younger brothers kept taking turns in looking after Maedhros to let him get used to them. And also because they needed to get used to him too.

xxx

“Did Tyelko see the eagle?” Asked Maedhros, once he was laying more comfortably on his side. It would be better to talk sitting, but the wounds on his back hurt and he needed to change position.

“Only from distance,” replied Curufin and shifted on his chair.

Unlike Maglor, he didn’t really know what to do, once there was nothing he could help with, but Maedhros was looking for distraction, anything to draw his attention from feeling awful and he was rested enough to start a conversation. The image of the giant eagle was written plainly in his memory, but he remembered nothing of what happened later. Today he felt well enough to finally ask about it.

“I bet he would give much to tame one like this.” The wounded stuck to the topic, his eves never leaving his brother, mostly because it pleased him to simply watch him; to watch anyone from his family.

“I suppose...” Curufin looked away. “But we saw him just from distance, he must have been even bigger,” he added, utterly unconvinced. “It was Findekano who had the opportunity to see him closer.”

“I know.” Maedhros still tried to look his brother in the eye, but Curufin consequently avoided his gaze, as if he didn’t know what to do. His behaviour intrigued Maedhros; he already knew Curufin was uncomfortable, but never to that degree, from what he had observed. “What happened later, Curvo? How many of you came?”

 Curufin shut his eyes and winced, as if he had been hit.

“One,” he muttered so quietly Maedhros barely heard him.

“One squad?” asked the eldest son of Feanor. “Risky, but maybe that’s why you succeeded.” Weird, how his own rescue seemed distant, as if they were not talking about him.

“Findekano. One Findekano,” Curufin spat out and finally looked at his brother. His cheeks were red, his eyes shining with tears, full of shame and guilt. “Not us, just he alone. He went to search for you, he found you and brought you back to us, the eagle carried you to their settlement at the other side of the lake. We knew not of his journey. He didn’t even tell his own father where he was going.” The last words Curufin almost shouted and then silenced abruptly.

“Oh...”

Maedhros felt his heart freezing, because he no longer saw his brother. The memory of the dungeons came clear and vivid, no, it was not a memory, he was in these dungeons. He felt the cold wall behind his back, the shackles on his ankles so tight that they cut his muscles before he got thin. And the voice, he heard it as if it was only yesterday. ‘Your brothers abandoned you.’

“Maitimo? No, don’t run away, please,” Curufin’s frantic voice came from distance. “Don’t do that again...”

Maedhros saw his brother sighed in relief when he looked at him, but then a flood of words came from his mouth. Apologies, explanations, apologies...

“Curufinwe, enough.”

His younger brother silenced, but he looked like he was about to choke on his words. He didn’t explode, though, like Caranthir would, but pressed his lips in a tight line so that he reminded Maedhros of their father.

“Leave me alone, Curvo. Please.” It wasn’t a request, but an order, and even though spoken with barely a whisper, Curufin obeyed, or rather took the chance to escape while he had it.

The eldest son of Feanor was left alone and suddenly the room became very quiet. Too quiet. The wounded elf laid curled on the bed, regretting he hadn’t asked his brother for another blanket, because the one that covered him gave him no comfort from the chill he felt. Maedhros recalled everything he learned from Curufin. So from all of his family only Fingon cared for him enough to try and rescue him... Not Maglor, not his brothers who had agreed with him that they should stick together, then, when their father’s madness was visible... And now they left him alone again... They wouldn’t tell anything when Maedhros asked about Fingon, Maglor only told him that he had sent a word to their cousin and that Fingon would surely come as soon as he can. But from where...?

Finally the door opened, though it seemed his brothers would not leave him alone; there was always one of them every time he woke. Maedhros sighed in relief when he saw Amras, but then he closed his eyes to let him know he didn’t wish for his company. His youngest brother got the message and respected it. He placed a big sheet of paper on the table, took his tools and started sketching, bent over his work. The wounded elf observed him for a moment with curiosity, but he grew weary and his arm pulsing with pain wouldn’t let him sleep. There was a pitch of herbs at the nightstand, but he had already learned this morning he didn’t have enough strength to reach for a mug, let alone drink without spilling everything. The presence of one of his brother’s in the room was well justified.

“Ambarussa?”

“Amas, Maitimo,” his younger brother corrected him gently. He raised his head and put away his quill.

“Amras.” Maedhros repeated the unknown name, tasted it and grimaced. It sounded short, sharp.

“Nobody calls me Ambarussa anymore. It was our name, not just mine.” The youngest brother glanced away, but then composed himself. “Amras or Telvo, all right?” he asked. “Little, if you really must,” he added with a resigned smile.

Maedhros almost smiled back. Amras must have come to terms with the fact that as the youngest he would never stop being little to them. Ambar... Amras. So his mother name was too painful to use after the death of his twin. Maedhros tried to cling to thinking about his youngest brother, but he couldn’t swallow the bitterness that threatened to overcome him. He stared at the ceiling. So his brother was no longer the kid who had once wanted to run away from their father after the burning of the ships. Ambarussa grew up he didn’t know when... ‘No,’ Maedhros silently corrected himself; he did know. It was when his brothers kept as far away from Angband as they could. When he was there, captive.

“Maitimo?” He must have been silent for too long, because Amras suddenly found himself beside his bed. “Do you need anything?”

“Water.” He wanted to sleep, to stop thinking, and hoped the herbs would help.

He almost screamed as Amras placed his shoulder around him and lifted him into half-sitting position. Maedhros felt dizzy and only after a moment he managed to drink half of the mug Amras pressed to his lips. His youngest brother watched him closely, as if trying to guess any other request before it was voiced. There was none, as Maedhros wanted to sleep, to not remember...

Amras wrapped his second arm around him and embraced him closely, placing his head on Maedhros’s good shoulder.

“I missed you,” Amras whispered somewhere below his ear.

“So what?” hissed Maedhros. His heart was still held in an icy grasp, though the warmth from herbs emanated slowly through his body. ‘You left me, convicted me, you did not rescue me,’ he wished to spit at his brother. “So what? You did not search for me, so don’t you tell me about missing me. Let go of me.’

Amras gasped in response and just hugged Maedhros closer, making him hiss in pain; the position was very uncomfortable.

“Let me go, Ambarussa.”

This time Amras obeyed and lowered him gently on the pillows, adjusting them. He crouched by the bed. Maedhros could feel his wounded, hopeful gaze, but he closed his eyes and turned his head away. He just wanted to sleep.

xxx

It was already afternoon when he woke. Amras brought him some soup and fed him, but then left, saying that Alcarino would soon come to redress his wounds. However, Maedhros didn’t expect Maglor would assist the healer.

His younger brother sat closely on the bed, by the pillows. He asked about his mood, then touched his forehead which made Maedhros flinch. He didn’t have a chance to ask what was that for, when Maglor lifted him up with ease, so Maedhros found himself sitting, with his brother’s arm hurting his back. Maglor’s fingers combing his hair he just couldn’t stand.

“Stop it,” he growled and his brother froze. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing...” Maglor frowned but took back his hand. “I mean... The same things as usually, they help...” he explained quietly.

Usually. The wounded closed his eyes as he realised just how Maglor fussed around him. When he opened them again and met Maglor’s, whose arms were ready to embrace him if he allowed it, Maedhros couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Nobody held my hand when these wounds were inflicted, so nobody needs to do so now!” he exploded. As much as he was able, he moved away. “Get out.”

“Neylo...” Maglor was staring at him, shocked and wounded.

“Get out, Kanafinwe,” growled Maedhros.

“As you wish.”

Maglor surrendered and laid him back, then left without asking any questions. Maedhros turned his head away from the door and carefully moved to lay on his left side in attempt to take off the pressure from his back. So his brothers thought him weak and Maglor wanted to protect him from the sight of his wounds... As if Maedhros was blind and indifferent for all those years of captivity.

When Alcarino repeated Maglor’s gesture and rose him to give him some bitter potion, Maedhros didn’t resist.

“Don’t be surprised your brother cares so much, Nelyafinwe,’ said the healer, startling the eldest son of Feanor. “For two weeks he sat there and watched you dying on his hands and then waited, thinking you would not wake, because your fea already fled to Mandos.

“He should be glad it was this short. I waited much longer.” The bitter words escaped Maedhros’s lips before he could stop it. ‘Yet another proof I control nothing, even my tongue,’ he thought grimly and silenced.

“Without Kanafinwe we probably wouldn’t have been able to pull you through the worst,” remarked Alcarino calmly, pretending he didn’t hear the remark. “We couldn’t touch you without him.”

“Kano won’t make me forget,” muttered Maedhros.

“But it can be less unpleasant with him.”

“I don’t want him here.”

“I will need someone to help me later anyway,” the healer warned him.

Alcarino took his arm and started undressing it. Maedhros had to force himself not to try to pull his arm back. He would have achieved nothing, as the whole limb with dislocated joints was numb, but he felt anxious at the thought of being so helpless, even if it was Alcarino taking care of him; Alcarino, who was a friend of his grandfather and whom Maedhros had known for ages.

“Nelyafinwe.” The healer’s voice stopped him from getting too far away.

Maedhros looked at him and suddenly felt the need to talk to someone who was not his brother. Curufin did not come since he had told him there was no rescue mission. The other brothers didn’t avoid him so openly, but they didn’t know what to do, apart from Amras who consequently kept drawing his maps and wasn’t overbearing. Maedhros could not really be cross with him for long when his youngest brother was seeking his company. But he couldn’t talk with Amras, also because he would not want to burden him.

“You think I shouldn’t be angry with Kano,” he stated sleepily, watching the healer.

“I didn’t say that,” Alcarino pointed out. “But since you’re asking, I think you should not shut your brothers out. They can help you now.”

Maedhros did not ask, but the rational arguments of the healer were soothing,  unlike Maglor’s fussing.

“I don’t remember you coming earlier,” said Maedhros, watching closely what the healer was doing.

“I tried to change the dressings while you slept,” explained Alcarino. “But you are worryingly warm, so I’d rather check now if there is anything worsening.’

“Alright.”

The healer uncovered what was left of his wrist and Maedhros gasped at the sight of where exactly his arm ended. He stared, but his breath quickened. How...? Maedhros started shaking, he realised he couldn’t catch his breath. When...? He was hanging, surely... So why? He couldn’t remember!

Alcarino put some kind of ointment on the stump and Maedhros moaned, though he had promised himself he would make no sound, he would not give this satisfaction to his tormenters... Not a sound...

“Nelyafinwe.” Alcarino’s voice came from far away. Maedhros did not see him, he had his eyes shut, his face hidden in a pillow. “Nelyo, Nelyo.” This time closer, right over his ear, when the healer leaned over him.

A cool hand on his cheek was so unexpected that Maedhros went utterly still. What this time...?

“Open your eyes, Nelyo,” Alcarino ordered gently. “Look at me.”

Maedhros ignored him, hoping that whatever the healer might have wanted, he would tire and leave him alone. However, Alcarino kept talking gently to him and was not about to give up. Finally the wounded opened his watery eyes and the first thing he saw was a friendly smile of the elder elf.

“That’s better, isn’t it? I am not going to harm you,” promised Alcarino and Maedhros wanted to trust him. “I won’t force you to look if you don’t want. But I want you to know it’s just me.”

The wounded nodded weakly and closed his eyes. Alcarino, it was Alcarino, he realised. The healer went out of his sight, he must have gone to the door, as his footsteps made the floor crack. Next moment something warm and hairy laid on Maedhros’s hand.

 “Huan, it wasn’t you who was asked,” said Celegorm at the doorstep, half amused and half sounding as if he gave up.

“You will help me, Tyelkormo,” ordered Alcarino. “And Huan may stay.”

The giant dog barked happily and started sniffling the wounded. Maedhros ignored his brother and focused on his dog. Huan licked his hand, then stepped on the bed to lick his cheek.

“Are you sure he may?” Asked Celegorm, amused. “Get down.”

The dog moved back obediently and Maedhros let out the air he was holding. Huan surprised him, the touch of his tongue was not unpleasant, but entirely different from the healer’s hands.

“Are you alright, Maitimo?” Medhros could feel how strain and unsure his brother was. Celegorm too did not know what to do.

“Mmm,” Maedhros muttered in response. He closed  his eyes and allowed his brother to talk about his latest hunt. At first he wanted to ask Alcarino about something, but the questions vanished as the healer’s doings were less and less unpleasant and the herbs finally started working.