To Build The Bonds That Tie by ThatFeanorian

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The Weight Of Silence

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The Day After The Funeral (as Celegorm would later think of it) arrives with more rain and heavy oppressive mist, determined to make him upset about a person he has never known. He ignores it, jumping out of bed with a spring in his step as he whirlwinds around them room, dressing and then crawling into Huan’s dog bed, curling around the big grey-white dog until he wakes, letting out a huff of air and standing, hauling Celegorm with him. 

He bounds down the stairs two at a time, with a grin on his face and the excitement of a new day in his eyes, only to hear the sound of something breaking, and to skid to a halt beside his brothers. Maedhros stands with Junior in his arms, sitting silently with big solemn eyes and wearing nothing but his diaper. His clothes dangle from Maedhros’s hand forgotten and useless as Celegorm suddenly realises why they are all frozen. From inside the kitchen, angry voices crescendo, and Celegorm hears his father growl,

“If you think I am going to give in to that pathetic spineless traitor, you can leave this house and go count yourself one of their number.” Celegorm’s heart seems to stop in his chest, and he inwardly scoffs at himself. His parents argue; that is what they do. There is no need for him to be upset over it.

And yet… the tone of his mother’s voice, the venom in his fathers, these are things he has never heard before and he has never wanted to. He would not admit it, but he is almost relieved when Maedhros gives a start, as if he had been asleep, and sets Junior down on the floor, beginning to dress him and saying,

“Come on, Tyelko, coat on please, we’re going for a walk.” Maedhros’s voice is calm and controlled as he gently pushes Junior’s arms into the sleeves of his coat, but it is betrayed by his eyes which are panicked, like a helpless animal trapped in one of Celegorm’s secret holes in the woods. Maglor is clinging to his arm, sniffling, and when he sees Celegorm, he buries his face in Maedhros’s back, clearly expecting to be teased. 

But for once, Celegorm doesn’t want to tease his brother. Behind him, his parent’s voices are loud and angry, and he can hear his mother yelling,

“You worthless, stubborn piece of shit!” Instead, he grabs his own coat and quietly bundles himself into it, clipping on Huan’s collar, and waiting by the door as Maedhros puts on Junior’s muddy shoes from the day before while the little boy sits silently, his eyes wide and his thumb in his mouth. Behind the two of them, Caranthir sits stoically, his too-big hand-me-down clothes making him look tiny as Celegorm --to his own horror-- reaches out, taking his hand and helping him to his feet. Maedhros glances over, and seeing Huan shakes his head,

“No, please leave him here Tyelkormo.” He says gently, and Celegorm panics, tumbling to the ground in his haste to wrap around the big dog. He had been forced to abandon his best friend the day before, Huan is not staying behind. Perhaps sensing his fear, Maedhros lets out a long sigh, looking much, much older than twelve as he purses his lips and scrubs with his free arm at his eyes,

“Okay, fine, come on,” Maedhros says quietly, and the five of them exit the house, closing the door behind them with a gentle click. Even the expanse of wood does not manage to completely block out the sounds of their parents behind it. Maglor takes Maedhros’s free hand, leaving Celegorm and Caranthir to walk by themselves, and Celegorm wishes he had thought to put on a thicker jacket. The autumn air is freezing and bites at his exposed hands like ice, leaving him to ball up his fingers and shove them deep into his pocket. 

In Maedhros’s arms, Junior starts to struggle, letting out a single wail before Maedhros winces and acquiesces to his wishes, placing him down on the ground. He obviously thinks he is being subtle when he wipes his eyes again as he does so, but Celegorm sees. Junior’s steps are small, slowing them all down, and although Celegorm wishes that Maedhros would just pick him back up again, his eldest brother does not; letting Junior toddle his way down the road and keep them all from getting where they are going.
Where are they going? Celegorm doesn’t know. Maglor has stopped crying now, though his fingers grip Maedhros’s so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, and he is so small next to Maedhros that Celegorm often forgets that they are only two years apart. Even he is larger than Maglor at this point, though right now Celegorm isn’t sure whether that is something to be proud of. 
Huan lets out a joyous bark and runs off into the woods that frame their street, and Maedhros turns worriedly back towards him. Celegorm shrugs in response to his gaze,

“He’ll be back. He always does.” They walk for what feels like forever, though when Celegorm looks back, he can still see the faint outline of their house through the mist.

“Where are we going?” Caranthir asks, his voice low and calm as it always is, and Celegorm looks to Maedhros, who is staring straight ahead as if he can see their destination, however far away and concealed by the mist. In the end, it is not he who answers, but Junior, jumping excitedly, tugging on Maedhros’s hand with a goofy grin on his face,

“Park! Park!” He shrieks, and Maedhros seems to consider this for a moment before nodding,

“Sure Junior, we can go to the park.” Celegorm looks at him in surprise. Normally Maedhros, with his hyper fixation on fitting in in Middle School, would have refused to escort them publically to the park, though Celegorm is not sure why this is. The park is a fun place, full of things for him to hang off of and climb, full of small hiding places where even his brothers cannot find him. Maedhros should love the park, the way he loves to do anything and everything with them when they are in private and there are no other eyes telling him how to behave.

“Nelyo, are we going to walk all the way there?” Caranthir asks practically, and Maedhros nods absentmindedly as Maglor shouts out indignantly,

“No, Nelyo that will take a whole hour!” And Celegorm’s heart sinks, he wants to go to the park, but the idea of walking all the way there through this disgusting freezing fog is somehow quite off-putting. Maedhros glances over at Maglor and shakes his head quickly, quirking it in Junior’s direction, but Maglor doesn’t seem to get the message as he continues to complain,

“I can’t walk that far, it’s impossible!” His feet are dragging over the cement now, and Junior, seeming to sense uncertainty in their plan, plops down on the wet sidewalk, rocking back and forth, and starts to cry. Caranthir scowls at all of them, tugging his hand from Celegorm’s grasp and whining,

“I don’t want to, Nelyo, I want to go home.” Maglor stomps his foot angrily, Caranthir crosses his arms over his chest, face flushing dangerously, and Junior overbalances in his rocks, flopping onto the back on the sidewalk and letting out an ear-piercing scream. For the first time in his life, Celegorm sees Maedhros overwhelmed, and he is shocked when his brother drops to the sidewalk, right beside Junior, and buries his head in his hands, starting to cry. A hush falls over the street, broken only by the moaning wind and Junior’s continued sobbing as he pounds the wet pavement beneath him. 

“Nelyo?” Maglor asks quietly, but their older brother does not respond, only burrows farther in on himself, shaking with the weight of his tears. He looks so small as he sits on the edge of the abandoned grey road, only a shadow of what he usually is when he is smiling and laughing and swinging them all around in circles, and for the first time in a long time, Celegorm is afraid. If Maedhros (his strong, tall, smart big brother) can look this lost and helpless there must be some possibility that he could be too.

And he hates Maedhros, hates him for being able to be so weak, for giving up right here on the street when they need him the most, for not being as strong as a twelve-year-old is supposed to be… there are a million reasons he hates Maedhros, but none of them will come out, instead, boiling in an angry bubble deep in his stomach.

He glares over at Maglor, fixing him with the same angry scowl he gives to the kids at school who try to take the swing set before him and pushes him away,

“Fuck off Káno.” He mutters angrily, using the worst word he has ever heard -- and only once, a quiet breath of exhaled air when his father found out that Grandpa Finn was dead. It has become his favourite word, a mean nasty word that he doesn’t understand but that makes every one twitch and move away from him when he wants to be alone.
This time proves no different, Maglor stumbles backwards a few steps, fixing him with one searingly hot scowl before stomping off to the other side of the empty road, and a moment later Caranthir follows, his hands reaching out for Maglor in a rare display of neediness. Junior has quieted, seeing that no one seems to care if he is on the ground or soaking wet, and merely lies face down on the sidewalk, sniffling. 

There is a clap of thunder in the distance, and as if on queue, the mist turns into a light rain, the dark clouds on the horizon threatening a much larger storm if they do not move quickly to get inside. Celegorm approaches Maedhros quietly, the way he would one of the small frightened animals he finds in the woods, and sits beside him, brushing just the tips of his fingers over Maedhros’s.

“Where do you want to go?” he asks softly, sure that that must be the root of his brother’s disquiet, and Maedhrosdhros’ body give one colossal shudder before it stills, with his voice muffled by his coat and his legs he whispers,

“I don’t know Tyelkormo, we don’t have anywhere to go.” Debating for a moment, Celegorm decides this qualifies as one of the emergency moments in which his brother matters more than being cool and shifts closer, snuggling into Maedhros’s side and wrapping his arms around the larger figure. Junior stands silently, with his clothes dripping wet, and pastes himself to Maedhros’s other side, where he says softly,

“You scared.” Sometimes, Celegorm is shocked by just how mature the miniature boy is. One moment he is throwing a tantrum on a wet street, and the next he is putting into words what Celegorm could not manage to confront himself: Maedhros is scared. Maedhros looks up fully, his silver-grey eyes full of a torrent of emotions that Celegorm cannot begin to define, and he gives them a crooked smile,

“Nah, Junior, I’m not scared. It looks like the weather isn’t going to be good though, come on. We can...” He trails off, clearly unsure as to what they can do, and Maglor returns from across the street, grasping Caranthir’s hand firmly in his. Their hair is plastered to their heads by the rain and Maglor looks apologetically guilty. 

“Home,” Caranthir says firmly, “I want to go home.” Maedhros reaches down and pulls the soaking wet Junior into his arms, where he sits uncomplainingly, one small hand on Maedhros’s face.

“Scared.” He repeats as if it means everything in the world, and Maedhros looks so lost for a moment that Celegorm is sure it must be true, so he reaches out, taking Maedhros’s hand in his, and praying that this will make him remember that they are all here, in the street, and the rain is going to come, and they are going home.

“Come on.” He says and leads Maedhros back towards the faint silhouette of their big house in the distance, leaving the others to follow behind him as he leads the way back to the home he was only too eager to exit earlier that morning. Huan is waiting for them, muddy and soaked, panting happily as if he has just had the time of his life, but Celegorm takes one look at Maedhros’s face and says firmly,

“No, Huan, stay.”

 The door has locked behind them, leaving Maedhros with no choice but to reach up and ring the bell, as they all stand under the rain. Celegorm’s father opens the door, his eyes still blazing with anger, and for a moment Celegorm is sure that he has made the wrong choice, that it will be his fault this time when Maedhros begins to cry, but instead, Fëanor’s mouth falls slightly open. It is not Maedhros’s eyes that are enveloped with tears, it is their father’s as he fully opens the door, 

“Well, come in then.” His words are stiff, but there is a tentative quality to them that makes Celegorm nervous again as he clutches at Maedhros’s hand. There is silence, total complete silence in the house as they file one by one into the kitchen, where Nerdanel stands, also speechless, and they take their seats. Breakfast is served, and they eat --cereal with fresh fruit-- in silence. 

“I’m sorry Mom, Dad,” Maedhros whispers, but no one responds, and Junior reaches over, placing his tiny hand over Maedhros’s mouth and saying,

“Shush.” A great bird seems to be swooping over them, like the ones Celegorm has read about in his books: huge and carnivorous, dangerous but beautiful; only this silence is not beautiful. It is terrifying and Celegorm is sure that if any one of them moves or dares to break the stillness that reigns, the bird will dive, and that person will not survive. Celegorm swirls his spoon around inside of the cereal and pretends to be eating while really sending quick glances up to the ceiling, each time expecting to see the bird, and each time rewarded with nothing but plain white. He is almost disappointed that it does not appear, because although a giant carnivorous bird would be terrifying, at least then he could fight it. He cannot fight the air or the phantom of his father’s anger that seems to hang over the room.

Fëanor suddenly lets out a large whoosh of air, and his head falls down into his hand as he rubs at his face. He looks up at Nerdanel, sitting silently at the other end of the table. Celegorm is silent, his eyes flickering around the room, watching for the bird, but the bird seems to have left, the force of his father’s sigh has blown it away.

“I’m sorry, Nerdanel, you’re right. I’ll call tomorrow.” His mother gives a slight nod, and then reaches over, gathering a shivering Maedhros into her arms,

“Okay, you five: shower, now, and then we can talk.” Celegorm shudders, annoyed that on top of everything today he is also going to be made to take a shower; but looking over at Maedhros, who is pale and bedraggled with his red hair plastered flat to the top of his head and beginning to drip, he decides that perhaps a shower today would not be the end of the world. Maybe it will wash away his memory of this whole sorry experience so that he never has to admit he has seen his brother cry.