Reconciliation by Ariana

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Chapter XI

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Chapter XI

The failed attempt of getting up left Maedhros impatient, but despite his brothers’ assumptions he did not ask to be carried outside. Instead, he focused on his exercises and Alcarino had to stop him a bit, reminding him that he would not heal faster if he overworked himself. In general, though nobody objected any kind of activity that did not cause Maedhros pain.

“Have I bored you yet?” inquired Caranthir and stopped talking about his latest trade meeting with Moriquendi, as he noticed that Maedhros had stopped asking questions. The wounded was interested in everything concerning the local elves, but he had been quiet for some time.

“No.” The sick elf opened his eyes and looked keenly at his brother. He must have realised that the evening had changed into night. “What time is it?”

“Long after midnight,” replied Caranthir, wondering what his brother was up to. It was not the first time Maedhros had slept during most of the day and was active at night. After he had fallen from his bed, they decided that he still needed company, thus this conversation about Moriquendi in the middle of the night.

Maedhros sat up without support, wincing as his maimed arm slipped from the pillow. He put away the blankets and placed his feet on the floor; he was wearing but a long shirt.

“Help me up, Moryo,” he demanded.

Caranthir nodded; he wouldn’t be surprised if his brother grew bored to death. He grabbed Maedhros below is armpits and swiftly pulled him up. His brother’s knees buckled, his fingers pinned in Caranthir’s arm, but he managed to stand.

“What now?”

“Window...”

“As you wish. I’m holding you.” Caranthir pretended to be calm, but he watched with fascination as his brother moved his foot with effort and made his first unsteady step. And then second, and one after another as they slowly but stubbornly made the few steps to the window.

“Open it,” asked Maedhros, panting. He was leaning against Caranthir with almost all of his weight, his legs shaking with effort, but he seemed not to mind it as his eyes were drawn by the sky.

Caranthir freed one of his hands to open the window. Seeing that his brother was not going to stand any longer, he helped him sit on the windowsill and lean against the frame. Maedhros inhaled deeply, then a grimace of pain flashed on his face as his maimed arm reminded of itself. He moved it up and placed carefully on his lap; his eyes never left the sky.

“Are you alright?” Caranthir asked quietly, assuming that his brother could not be comfortable on the windowsill, but Maedhros looked so calm he almost regretted saying anything.

“Mmm...” Maedhros nodded thoughtfully. “I won’t fall... Possibly.” A shadow of smile appeared on his lips. He leaned his head back against the wall.

Caranthir decided to trust his brother on that matter and left him for a moment. He dragged an armchair closer to the window and untied a sash he had around his hips. Maedhros paid no attention to him, lost in thought until Caranthir touched him unprepared, intending to make a sling. His elder brother froze and held his breath, and when Caranthir placed his hand near his neck, he hissed and turned his head away as far as he could, as if trying to avoid being hit.

“Nelyo, calm down, it’s just me!” Caranthir rushed to reassure him. “Don’t worry, I mean no harm!”

Maedhros fought the urge to flee and leaned forward, but he closely watched his brother’s hands.

“I don’t want it,” he muttered unhappily as his younger brother adjusted the length of the sling and tied the ends on his neck.

“What is wrong with my sash?” asked Caranthir provokingly with feigned offense. “I thought you’d like the stars,” he pointed at the golden pattern embroidered on the red sash that seemed russet in the faint light.

Maedhros touched it and reached to his neck, placing his hand under the fabric as if it was bothering him.

“I don’t like it that...” he stopped. “It ties me,” he admitted under his brother’s expecting look.

‘’So you’d better get used to it, you’ll need a sling for some time,” Caranthir pointed out. “You cannot use the other hand, you need to have it free. But you’re right, it’s definitely not your shade of red.”

“Mmm...” Maedhros winced. He glanced at his bare knees and unsuccessfully tried to cover them with his shirt.

“Come, it’s not the best place for you to sit,” said Caranthir.

“No, I don’t want to go back to bed.” The wounded elf objected at once, moving a bit.

“Who said anything about bed?” The younger brother pointed at the armchair. “I can see you’re not comfortable.”

Maedhros accepted his help and soon enough he was seated comfortably in the armchair, leaning against a pillow. Caranthir did not miss the stressed gaze his brother gave to his bare legs nor his attempt to cover himself with the shirt. He covered his elder brother tightly with a blanket and only then Maedhros relaxed.

“May I assume you will not try to get up on your own if I leave you for a moment?” asked Caranthir, sitting for a moment on one of the armrests. He brushed hair from Maedhros’s forehead and noticed with satisfaction he did not escape his touch.

“Why would I?” Maedhros seemed content with his place by the window.

“I’ll bring some raspberry pie,” offered Caranthir as he stood up energetically. “And something to drink, my throat went dry from all that talking.”

“Moryo?” His brother’s voice made him stop at the doorstep. “Bring me some wine, might be watered. Anything but water, because I feel like even the one for washing smells of herbs.”

Caranthir was not surprised. Alcarino prepared various potions, soothing, but mostly strengthening and added them to the water Maedhros had at the nightstand. This way the sick elf didn’t have to take additional medicine, but the water had characteristic taste.

Caranthir came back soon, carrying a tray with leftovers of the pie and a carafe of wine. He poured half a mug for his brother; Maedhros had not moved and was still staring out of the window.

“I’m not going to ruin it by adding water,” said Caranthir, offended, when he met his brother’s inquiring look. “It’s strong and I don’t want to intoxicate you,” he smiled merrily. He also didn’t want Maedhros to spill the wine on himself, but he wasn’t going to say that.

“With this amount?” Maedhros eyed the mug and sniffed the wine with interest.

“Try it,” Caranthir encouraged him. “And who knows? I am not going to explain myself to Alcarino, or worse, to Kano.”

Maedhros half smiled and took a sip. He nodded approvingly.

“It’s good,” he admitted. “And it is strong indeed. Where is it from?”

“Ha! I brought it from my last meeting with Moriquendi,” explained Caranthir, content that he pleased his brother. “You should have seen how Curvo fussed.”

“It is good,” repeated Maedhros thoughtfully and turned back to the window. Caranthir poured himself some wine and stepped back to give his brother much needed space.

xxx

Once he was allowed to get up, Maedhros did everything not to be completely bedridden again, even if his activity meant his joints hurt. He insisted that his brothers put him on his feet and help him walk even a few steps – to the table, to the window, around the room. Anywhere, if it meant he could move.

It was a good evening. They sat together for a supper and nobody felt like leaving once the meal was over. His younger brothers and his nephew felt more comfortable around him, as if encouraged by the fact that Maedhros managed to get up and was sitting with them by the table. They were watching him closely, of course, especially Maglor, if he didn’t need anything, if he wasn’t tired, but the conversation was fluent, full of anecdotes and jesting.

Maedhros sat in an armchair, his fingers clenched around a mug of wine. He felt quite well, the shared meal suited him even if Maglor had had to carry him as he had run out of strength half the way to the dining room.  The armchair was cosy and it was a nice change after the weeks of laying in bed, and the company of more than two brothers was not burdensome at all.

They started talking about all the problems the brothers had had to deal with at the very beginning of organising their settlement. The younger brothers made Maglor answer for all the mistakes in front of their eldest. They were all responsible for most of the setbacks, but officially Maglor was the one in charge. Maedhros glanced at him to check if he wasn’t going to take it all seriously and go blame himself, but they all shared the light mood and nobody was worrying.

Celegorm recalled the time when half of their elves had gotten sick because they had not cared enough for the water. After time, the whole situation sounded ridiculous, but Maedhros had no doubts it had not been so amusing then. Now it was good to hear his brothers jesting instead of tiptoeing around him.

“You were not so amused when you went after Amras and it got you during the ride, were you?” Maglor finally snapped back.

Despite what Maedhros expected, Celegorm did not laugh but rather winced. It was Amras who surprised him, though, as he loudly pushed his chair from the table and left abruptly without a word. Maedhros stared at his other brothers and his nephew. Caranthir seemed unsure, Curufin looked as if something pained him. Maglor muttered something Maedhros didn’t catch, but it didn’t sound approvingly.

“What is this all about?” He asked, seeing that none of his brothers was going to explain.

“I spoke out of turn,” muttered Maglor. He sighed and continued. “Amras learned about Losgar then, that’s why Tyelko went after him,” he hesitated for a moment, then added. “It was just after we sent the Moringotto’s emissaries away.”

Maedhros just nodded, though he suspected there was more than Maglor said. During those weeks before his capture Maedhros was very close with Amras and he stopped him from leaving their camp more than once. He suspected that if he hadn’t watched him then, Amras would have fled. Maglor must have feared the same when their brother learned about Curufin’s part in the burning of the ships.

The eldest son of Feanor placed his mug away and threw the blanket from his knees. Maglor and Caranthir, being the closest, rose at once. Maedhros accepted their help to get up, but then shook off their hands. He wanted to talk to Amras alone.

“Sit down,” he commanded and made first few, careful steps, being watched by five pairs of eyes.

Maglor was staring at him and Maedhros didn’t have to turn around to know his brother was very uneasy. The singer did not oppose and remained by the table, though he did not sit down; he would most likely want to follow Maedhros.

Step by step, watching the floor and leaning against everything he could, so that his freedom would not end too quickly with a fall, Maedhros made his way to the door and stepped out on the corridor. Somewhere half the way he realised how fruitless his attempt to find his brother would be, if Amras had left the house. Nevertheless, he closed the doors behind him to stop his other brothers from assisting him. Fortunately Amras was still on the corridor and came to him once he saw him.

“Maitimo, what are you doing here alone?”

“I wish to talk to you.” Maedhros grabbed the doorframe, determined not to fall. It seemed that those few steps had drained him from all the strength he had this evening.

“Forgive me, I didn’t intend to worry you.” Amras placed his shoulder around him and supported him. “I’ll go back to the table.”

“No, I wish to talk to you in private... And I’ve had enough of sitting by the table for tonight,” admitted Maedhros; he was aware he was not going anywhere on his own.

“I see,” muttered Amras. “I’ll carry you, alright?” he offered brightly. He waited for his elder brother to agree before taking him. Instead of carrying Maedhros to his room, though, he pushed the door of his own.

“We’ll talk in here,” he grinned, seeing his brother’s surprise.

He was pretending to be cheerful and perhaps Maedhros would have been deluded, had he not just seen his brother storming out of the dining room. The fact that Amras was able to hide his emotions so quickly was one of the things he could not get used to.

Amras placed him on his bed and helped him lay down comfortably; he himself sat on the floor with his legs crossed. The smile never left his lips, but more sincerity appeared in it.

“Makalaure told me what was that about,” inquired Maedhros, though as soon as he lied down, he had to force himself to keep his eyes open; the wine he had drunk affected him more than usually.

“I already told you I didn’t mean to worry you,” repeated Amras irritated. “Kano startled me, that’s all.”

“You smile,” noticed Maedhros, seemingly answering his own thoughts. “I didn’t think, then, that you would ever smile again.”

“Me neither.” Amras became serious, surprised by the change of the topic. He was no longer looking at his brother, his eyes on the floor; he fiddled nervously with his braids. He was visibly displeased with the way this conversation was going. “But you too did not forget how to do smile,” he gently pointed out.

‘No, I did not,’ realised Maedhros with astonishment. This evening had proved he still knew how to make his lips curve into a smile and he was sincere in it. Amras, however, seemed to be hiding behind his merriness and his other brothers must have grown used to it.

“He didn’t know, Maitimo,” said Amras suddenly and he looked at his brother with his keen eyes. “Curufinwe. I remember how he reacted there, on the beach. He didn’t know where Ambarto was, just like he didn’t know if Tyelpe too wasn’t on the deck.” Amras let his mask fall for a moment; his eyes were hard as steel. “If he knew, you would have found only four brothers here. Or three perhaps.”

Maedhros shivered at the mere thought, which didn’t go unnoticed. The youngest son of Feanor softened and smiled.

“If anyone heard us now, they would definitely scold me for troubling you. Especially Kano.”

“Mmm...” Maedhros closed his eyes, but fought sleepiness for a moment longer. “You talk,” he noticed. “You and Curvo.”

“Well.” Amras shrugged his shoulders. “We do, now. I couldn’t ignore him forever,” he spoke monotonously and Maedhros was once again struck with how much he had changed. “And Kano didn’t need to be our peacemaker too. And... It was enough he would not look at me for many long months,” he confessed quietly. Then he shook his head and stated firmly. “That’s enough for tonight, Maitimo. I’ve had enough. You too, I guess.”

Perhaps if he pushed him now, Maedhros would have managed to get from Amras more of the things his brothers kept from him, but he gave up. The more prosaic problem was how to get back to his own room; he really didn’t feel like moving at all. Anyway, he moved his hand to push himself up, but Amras placed his hands on his shoulders.

“Stay,” he offered. Maedhros did not oppose.

Amras made sure his brother didn’t need anything and when Maedhros fell asleep, he left quietly. Finding Maglor was not hard, as he was sitting in his room by the desk, leaning over some sheets of paper; he seemed too unfocused to be paying attention to the documents.

“Makalaure?” said Amras at the doorstep, as his brother did not notice him.

Maglor startled and turned to the door, surprised when he saw his youngest brother.

“Come in, please,” he said carefully, inviting Amras inside, as if he needed an invitation.

“If you were looking for Maitimo, he’s in my room. And before you ask, everything is alright.” The youngest son of Feanor smiled. Maglor had been visibly overprotective for the last years and Maedhros’s return did not free him from being responsible for everything. He might not have showed it on daily basis, but it was clear for Amras how much he worried.

Maglor watched him closely, but he must have believed him, for he relaxed. Then he glanced at the papers spread on the desk and sighed.

“Good... Can you please ask Moryo to come here? I don’t get it.” Maglor waved his hand holding two sheets of paper.

“What do you have there?” Amras glanced over his shoulder. “You know, give me that. It seems I’m not going to sleep tonight anyway.”