Absinthe-minded by Sleepless_Malice

---

Chapter 1

---

Absinthe-minded

*

 

Even as he stepped through the glittering curtain veiling the entrance to the garden, Maedhros knew it was a terrible mistake to come along. The air was heavy with smells, some quite familiar to Maedhros whereas others, especially the strange sweetness wafting through the air, were not, making him cough.

‘It is unfair!’ Maglor had told him, pouting, the moment Maedhros had politely declined the invitation to join him to the party his artist friends yearly hosted. ‘You’ve joined Curvo on more than one occasions to his science parties, and if I remember correctly you have even joined mother.’

Maedhros hadn’t had a decent excuse for his brother as to why he was in no mood to join, apart from the rumors he had often heard, especially from Finrod, and his own brother’s state of mind for days after each year’s party. For days, Maglor was not truly himself, deadly tired with black circles beneath his eyes, speaking nonsense to everyone he got hold of.

‘Why?’

Maglor could be so terribly annoying.

‘Because I do not want to.’

The argument between them had spread over many days until at last Maedhros had reluctantly agreed.

Now, stepping further inside the decorated garden, ushered forward by an impatient Maglor, there was no turning back and Maedhros cursed himself for his foolishness. It felt as if he had set foot into a parallel world, which was usually concealed from his eyes and before Maedhros could fully decide if he liked the kind of music that was being played, Maglor introduced him to one of his female friends.

As if raised by goblins, Maedhros stared at her in bewilderment. One side of her head was completely shaved with intricate patterns of black ink adorning the skin there. Amidst the patterns, letters speaking of rebellion stood out. But that was not what startled him most; it was her eyes with pupils so wide that the entire iris was consumed. She looked at him with a crooked smile, but then Maedhros realized that her eyes were strangely unfocused. It was as if she looked through him and beyond, into a world that was still hidden from Maedhros’s eyes.

‘I should not have agreed in the first place,’ Maedhros thought, letting his eyes drift across the venue.

Scantily clad men and women stood around tables with burning incense and small brown cookies in its middle. Some were not even dressed at all, Maedhros realized in horror. He certainly was overdressed in his burgundy robes but so was Maglor. That Maedhros didn’t quite understand – his brother should have known how to dress accordingly?

Well, Maglor had, as his actions a moment later confirmed. With quick fingers Maglor unbuttoned the blue robe he was wearing, revealing a light tunic of silver fabric, strangely translucent, and plain grey breeches underneath it. The robe had merely acted as a disguise as their father would never agree of such flimsy clothes being worn in public.

“You could have told me!” Maedhros hissed quite angrily.

Maglor shrugged, then smiled, his voice a melodious tease. “Surely you are wearing something underneath it.”

Maedhros was about to say something but then did not, which earned him a quizzical look from Maglor.

Waiting for the answer that never came, Maglor tilted his head. “Or not?”

As Maedhros’ cheeks began to heat up, Maglor burst out laughing, much to Maedhros’ discomfort. “Quite interesting. I never knew,” Maglor said with a wink.

Maedhros elbowed his brother into the side. “I’d highly appreciate if you could keep that knowledge to yourself.” Somehow Maedhros doubted that Maglor would for the simple reason that he was prone to babbling about all and everything once he was drunk.

“Worry not, brother mine,” Maglor said before he left Maedhros’ side and disappeared into the night.

Maedhros watched him go.

‘And now?’ he thought to himself, having not the slightest clue what to do exactly. He had never felt so entirely out of place as tonight, not even on the opening of his mother’s exhibition. But then, nobody had bluntly stared at him without any trace of shame, undressing him with hungry eyes.

Usually, Maedhros didn’t have any problems socializing or even flirting. In fact, he was quite good at it but that was at ordinary festivals being hosted by other noble houses, following the traditional protocol of court. Thinking about it, Maedhros wasn’t even certain if this party followed any rules and regulations.

Just as he was about to turn around to at least get himself something to drink a stranger with an intricately braided beard appeared next to him, offering him a glass filled with sparkling wine. Politely, Maedhros thanked him with a smile. The eyes of the stranger were adorned with tiny crystals along his eyelashes and beyond that now sparkled in the firelight. Maedhros was no complete stranger to make-up as occasionally Maglor highlighted his eyes with black kohl, but never before had he seen such a piece of art. It must have taken hours to apply.

They chatted for a while about topics Maedhros truly had no idea of and therefore the entire conversation was quite one-sided; the other did not seem to mind however, speaking without a halt for many minutes. A young lady appeared next to the bearded elf, placing her arm casually around his shoulders. Then she kissed him, first on the cheek then on his mouth.

“So you are together?” Maedhros asked for reasons he didn’t truly know and immediately regretted it.

She smiled at him. “Me and him, you mean? Sort of. We are all together, one way or the other,” she said before she took a puff from a strangely shaped pipe entirely made out of glass with a water reservoir at its bottom. Maedhros had never seen something like before. At least he now knew from where the strange smell came from. Exhaling the smoke, she went on, having realized his bewilderment, “Don’t look at me like this.”

“How do I look at you?”

“Judging! Anyways, it doesn’t matter. We are a large family of friends with similar interests and views of the world. Sometimes, we are together for a few hours, sometimes even less. Sometimes it is him and me, or somebody else joins us. Are you perhaps interested?” she whispered, now sounding quite excited. “I always wished to fuck a ginger but it’s so rare.”

By then, Maedhros cheeks gleamed a burning red and all eloquence had dissipated from his voice. “No,” somehow he managed to say.

Neither offended nor hurt, she offered, “If you should change your mind – I’ll be around.”

Then both of them were gone, much to Maedhros’ relief.

Choosing a drink for himself from the nearby tables and some of the chocolate cookies which tasted strange but fantastic, Maedhros aimlessly wandered through the garden, noticing small groups of people scattered everywhere. That it was beautifully decorated was undeniable; little fires seemed to burn everywhere, and where not, candles have been lit to create a pleasant atmosphere. Tables of different sizes were placed throughout the gardens, some bigger ones with chairs to sit at, whilst others merely provided space to stand around, some along the main walkway whilst other were placed behind hedges.

On marble benches kissing couples sat, lost in their own world and the beauty of a moment, not bothering to take advantage of the areas constructed to offer more privacy. Such openly displayed affection among strangers felt odd to Maedhros, yet at the same time he could not look away.

It didn’t take a genius to realize that the private areas were used for a specific purpose, offering invitations without words. Only then, almost afraid of getting caught staring, he moved on.

Among the countless Elves sitting around the large fire, he spotted a few of Irmo’s Maiar, inhaling the smoke from a water pipe. Blue thick smoke wafted around them, as one by one they started giggling like children. If the smoke provoked such behavior or an obscene joke couldn’t tell. It was said that many strange plants grew in the Gardens of Lórien but that they were readily smoked was new to Maedhros.

Every now and then he saw Maglor passing by, sipping at cups filled with summer wine, idly chatting with whomever he met in an extremely friendly manner. He was like a butterfly, shimmering in the brightest colors, who relentlessly swarmed from one flower to the next, never settling down longer than a few moments. Although Maedhros did not quite like the comparison, it fit incredibly well. Maedhros noticed something else: over the course of time Maglor’s steps had become quite insecure, rather swaying from one side to the other than actually walking. It was no surprise his brother had always been hungover for days in the past, Maedhros thought as Maglor disappeared behind a hedgerow.

As time went by the garden became more and more crowded and the conversations he overheard were often outright obscene. Everybody seemed to have freed themselves from society’s expectations, in spirit and body and somehow, Maedhros envied them, at least a little.

What part Maglor played in their strange form of living, Maedhros found himself wondering more often than not.

Did he smoke those strange weeds that were frequently offered to Maedhros himself?

Did he partake in fleeting affections for a night or two?

Although none of this was any concern of his, strange sparks of jealousy began to flare and his fingers began to tingle. He had not had more than a few glasses of wine, so he could hardly be drunk by any means, yet he felt as if he was. Maedhros swallowed a couple of times to force vague nausea back down, taking another bite of the cookie which still was in his hand despite the dryness of his mouth. Eating had always helped against intoxication though sweets were usually not his first choice.

Fixing his eyes on the candle closest to him he watched the geometric patterns, yellow, and pink, and red, that wove around its flame, leaping high up in the sky. Sometimes he saw such strange colors coming from the fire in his father’s forge, whenever alloys were mixed and blended. More time passed in which Maedhros simply stood there and watched the strange sparkles of light, not being able to make sense of it.

Soon, however, his thoughts were diverted by an unexpected touch against his backside. Almost bumping into the male elf, dark-haired just as Maglor, he spun around.

Maedhros, surpassing the other by almost two heads, narrowed his eyes in warning, without success though.

The elf before him just chuckled. “Just wished to know if it felt as good as it looked.”

Maedhros could not quite believe what he heard. “Excuse you?” he said, surprised at how strange his voice sounded to his own ears. Feeble and weak, babbling.

“Are you always so .. tense?” the elf was saying, blinking and anger began to bubble in Maedhros’ stomach, mingling with nausea that all of a sudden was back. “I’m a sculptor and magically drawn to buttocks, my apologies for that. But now, that my suspicions are confirmed, would you be willing to pose for my latest work of art? A marble statue, full size and all muscle that wears a golden necklace about its throat.”

Maedhros rolled his eyes and left upon such brazen behavior. He didn’t even know his name, yet the other had the impertinence to ask him straight away if he was willing to model for a nude sculpture.

It was then that Maedhros decided he had seen enough. Finding Maglor, however, proved difficult, as if he was hiding from his brother. At last, he found him among a couple of others and tried to gesture him in silence. Maglor saw him more than once but decided to purposefully ignore him. Maedhros tried again, without any success and slowly the anger sparked anew. Usually, Maedhros wasn’t impatient or impulsive by any means, even if provoked but Maglor’s impertinent behavior simply bade for it.

Breathing in sharply, Maedhros stepped towards where Maglor stood and gripped his arm perhaps a bit too hard to walk him towards corner a bit quieter. As expected, Maglor protested but Maedhros would have none of it, he could have interrupted his conversation in the first place.

“I’m no child, Nelyo,” Maglor muttered.

“Then don’t behave as one!”

Beneath his fingers, Maedhros felt his brother’s pulse quicken as if the touch provoked a familiar thrill of anticipation. Narrowing his eyebrows, Maedhros wondered but didn’t question him; most likely it was the result of something Maglor had consumed throughout the past hours, things which Maedhros hadn’t even known to exist before that night.

Without doubt, he was quite familiar with the mushrooms their mother occasionally served, those brown ones especially Caranthir hated, those that looked like ordinary mushrooms – not a wicked blue something, glowing strangely in the light of the mingling. Maedhros had politely declined to try a mouthful whenever he was offered them and had stuck to the summer wine being served instead. If Maglor however had, Maedhros was not so certain anymore. He doubted it.

With Maglor swaying uncontrolled, the only possibility to move his brother towards where Maedhros wished him to go was to wrap his arm around his waist and walk him towards a nearby table which thankfully was empty apart from a few bottles standing in its middle. With a groan, Maglor sat down on the bench and Maedhros followed, losing the grip on his brother’s arm.

“Your friends,” Maedhros began, watching Maglor pulling a bottle filled with green liquid, looking quite toxic, towards them.

“Are quite unique, I know,” admitted Maglor, smiling like an idiot as Maedhros did not fail to observe as he filled a glass with the green liquid.

“Lovely drink,” commented Maglor said, rather to himself than to Maedhros.

Maedhros crossed his arms in refusal. “I won’t try it.”

The fabric of his robe felt strange to his fingers where he touched it and around him, voices began singing to him, leaving a burning cold where they settled in his mind and just as the voices around him grew louder, sparkling fireflies flew past him. No, none of this was real, Maedhros told himself, pinching his palms with his fingernails.

Maglor rolled his eyes, then looked at him in a way that was considered strange at best. “Nelyo, it’s only alcohol.”

Just then, a hand wandered up Maedhros’ thigh and wouldn’t his skin have felt so strange just a second ago, he would have suspected Maglor to be responsible for it. Now, he remained quiet.

Maedhros raised an eyebrow and regarded his brother for a while in silence, considering. “You are certain?”

Maglor nodded. “Aye.”

What harm would come from trying Maedhros asked himself? “A small glass. Not more.” He agreed, even though a tiny, angry part of him was chiding him for it.

Maglor’s face lit up. “With pleasure.”

He filled the glass much more than Maedhros had wished for, pushing it towards Maedhros on the table.

“Thank you,” Maedhros said, lifting it to his lips only to have Maglor gesturing wildly beside him. “No, no, no, that’s not how it is done,” he all but squeaked.

Maedhros stopped the motion of his arm, glass half-way between the table and his face and eyed Maglor suspiciously.

“That is how it’s done.”

Offering Maedhros a spoon prepared with a sugar cube and taking one for himself, Maglor demonstrated how it was supposed to be drunk. It was a science to itself, Maedhros concluded, watching Maglor carefully balance the spoon on the rim of the glass before he poured ice-cold water over it. The green drink turned immediately cloudy upon it, looking even unhealthier than before, just like the sulphurous pools at the mountain slopes. As to prove a point, Maglor drank it in one go and began to prepare another one for himself.

“Now it’s your turn.”  

Maedhros hesitated.

“What are you afraid of, dearest brother? To lose control?” Maglor asked, pouring water into his glass

“No. In fact, it’s about how I am ever supposed to get you home.”

Maglor shrugged, eyelids fluttering. “So about getting home, this fuss is all about? We don’t have to? There’s the possibility to simply sleep here –“

Maedhros interrupted him, quite angrily. “Surely not!”

At last, he poured water into his drink and took a sip. It tasted better than it looked like.

Eyes wide but sort of unfocused, Maglor stared at him.

“Káno!” Maedhros said, lowering his voice distinctly, making certain not to be overheard, “We’ve not been here longer than probably two hours. In that time I was offered more times than I could count assistance to have my restrictive garments removed, invited to a threesome and have been asked three times if I was willing to pose as a model by your artist’s friends –“

Though Maglor still proclaimed the drink to be only alcohol, Maedhros doubted it. He had only drunken a small amount of yet a feeling of lucid drunkenness began to spread through his entire body together with a strange warmth he usually didn’t feel when drunk.

“You aren’t genuinely surprised, are you?” Maglor cut in.

Maedhros shook his head in disbelief. “Not as a normal model,” he defended himself. Sometimes he had posed for their mother, “as a nude model.”

Somehow Maglor didn’t understand what Maedhros’ problem was. “Well, let me tell you from experience it could be much worse,” he said, laughing weirdly and in that moment, Maedhros knew it wasn’t only alcohol rushing through his brother’s veins, “what if I asked you?”

Maedhros almost dropped the glass. “Asked me what?”

“To pose for me .. nude. I would quite like that.”

“By Varda’s tits, Káno! I am your brother.”

Maglor hugged him tight for a second before pulling back with a grin. “What of it?” he asked as if it was the most ordinary question to ask his own brother. “That is only beneficial. It’s always quite awkward to pose for strangers.”

Steadying his trembling fingers on the edge of the table, Maedhros was exasperated. “Are you telling me that you’ve posed for nude drawings yourself, Káno, that there are drawings of you, wearing nothing, circulating around Tirion as wanking material?”

Maglor looked at him with puppy eyes. Maedhros blinked just to make certain it was not only a fantasy, but his brother still glanced at him with his dark brown eyes that could set a soul on fire.

‘No, wait,’ it screamed in Maedhros’ head, and suddenly he felt cold and hot at the same time. He stared at Maglor, the thought rolling back and forth in his head like pebbles. “And why do you want to have nude drawings of me in the first place? No Kano, don’t tell me the answer is what I think it is.” Maedhros demanded, voice low and furious.

Looking down in defeat, Maglor said, “Might be.”

No. No!

By now, Maedhros did not care if he was overheard or not, his voice developing a life of his own. “You can’t be serious. You just cannot be serious. No matter what you have consumed, saying so is entirely out of place. We’re leaving. Now.”

Maglor’s shoulders straightened and he sounded excited. “To pose for me?”

For the blink of an eye Maedhros felt fingers brush against his thigh in a manner it was completely improper. To neither of it, Maedhros replied, at least not vocally. Instead, he grabbed Maglor tightly by the arm and yanked him upwards rather violently. Naturally, Maglor was protesting loudly and therefore many eyes rested on the unfolding drama. Maedhros would have none of it. Placing one arm around Maglor’s waist and lifting Maglor’s own across his shoulders where he held it, he began to walk his brother away from the crowds.

As they left the little fires were still burning and the songs still filled the air as if the night had just begun. Maedhros drew in a deep breath as soon as they were out of sight, forcing his heartbeat to slow down but no matter how hard he tried, the words Maglor had said in his hallucinogenic state would not leave. They sent Maedhros’ mind reeling and set his body ablaze in a way they should not.

*

 

---

Chapter End Notes

Thanks for the inspo and the beta read. You know who you are <3