By the Sea by Lferion

Chapter 1

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It had taken a major expedition to make Fingon’s wish reality, but he could not regret it, and he refused to feel guilty over the efforts expended on his behalf. Especially since the need to work together seemed to have wrought a new layer of friendship and understanding between his father and his beloved. not to mention between their various supporters and dependents. Which could only be considered a good.

 

 Fingon wiggled his toes in the short sea-grass and breathed deeply of the sea air. Waves met the rocks and sand below him with a sound only water made, hissing and crashing, and the sunlight was a gold dazzle in his eyes. He leaned back on his elbows and let the moment fill his senses. Today was theirs; tomorrow would be meetings and court and counsel, protocol and diplomacy, the first time in several years that Fingolfin had gotten to Vinyamar, the first time ever that all three of them had at once.

 

 The view West was all ocean past the tumble of rocks and tenacious grass and other low growth that marked the cliff-edge. Endless blue-green billows streaked with occasional foam from breaking waves. There were people he loved across that wide distance, but being on the sea’s edge brought them no nearer. Not that he had expected it to. Nor was West the direction he wished to go, needed to be, despite — because of! — all the trials and griefs on this side of the sea.

 

 East was the whole of Beleriand, of Ennorë, Middle Earth, an expanse of wonders and terrors and unknowns to be explored. Hithlum and Mithrim, Barad Eithel and Himring, rising up from the sturdy stones of this land. Here were people Fingon loved with a depth and ferocity that surprised him, he who had loved — it seemed — easily and lightly, before. 

 

 (Before the Darkening, Alqualondë, the Ice, Thangorodrim…. ‘Findekáno’ had been lost bit by bit, speared, jettisoned, drowned, [violated]; Lómëlaurë lost along the way, even though it had taken a good long while to realize the loss, the change. And now he was ‘Fingon the Valiant’, with the gold in his hair the last remnant of his mother name.)

 

 Rather closer East, close enough to touch, did he lean against one of the rocks instead of on his elbows, close enough to feel the caress of unbound, wind-tangled hair, was Maedhros, Russandol, loved-and-beloved. Once he recognized his feelings for what they were — more than friendship, though that strand was there, more than appreciation, respect, cousinly affection, care and concern, all of that appearing brotherly, but in truth not brotherly at all — Fingon had expected no equivalent on Maedhros' part. That his feelings were returned continued to astonish him. Warmed and delighted him despite duty and distance and everything else.

 

 Suddenly, the tickle of wind-blown hair became a sweep across Fingon's cheekbones and ears, and the seascape was curtained in coppery red. Maedhros' arms scooped him into an embrace and a pointed chin rested on the crown of his head. "You are thinking too much," Maedhros said.

 

 Fingon could hear the smile in his voice. "And you are one to talk about over-thinking," he teased lightly in return, leaning into the embrace, his back to Maedhros' chest. For a long moment they just breathed together, silent in warmth and comfort. They would get through this, and the next thing, and the next, somehow. But for now, this was enough: sufficient unto the hour, the day, that they had each other.

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Chapter End Notes

Fingon is not given a mother name in canon, but he must have had one. I decided to use Lómëlaurë -- intended to mean Twilight and Gold, gold glimmering in shadow.