Early Winter at Himring Hill by oshun

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Fanwork Notes

Many thanks, as always, to Dawn Felagund for her kindness in Beta-reading this story.

Fanwork Information

Summary:

Written for Dawn Felagund's 2007 birthday, in response to a request for something about Fingon and Maedhros later in their life than the period I have been covering in my Maitimo and Findekáno story cycle. Fingon visits Maedhros at Himring Hill, after the Dagor Aglareb during the watchful peace of the Siege of Angband.

MEFA 2008, First Place, Romance: Elven Lands

 

Major Characters: Fingon, Maedhros

Major Relationships:

Artwork Type: No artwork type listed

Genre: General

Challenges: Anniversary Contest

Rating: Teens

Warnings:

This fanwork belongs to the series

Maitimo and Findekáno
Chapters: 1 Word Count: 376
Posted on 28 September 2007 Updated on 28 September 2007

This fanwork is complete.

Early Winter at Himring Hill

Read Early Winter at Himring Hill

The cold air burned Fingon’s lungs, pleasantly reminding him it was good to be alive. His horse whinnied and danced in place, confused when Fingon pulled him to a stop at a crest in the road. Fingon had claimed that it was too early to expect snow. Everyone else had insisted it was too late to ignore the possibility. His full-out laugh at the sight of the grim fortress, albeit softened somewhat by the frosting of snow on its turrets and roofs, gained Fingon a long-suffering shake of the head from his lieutenant.

The whitened downward grade immediately curved back up leading to the main entrance of the citadel at the top of Himring Hill. Fingon looked back and raised his hand in a signal to his company, which slowly moved up the incline to join him. Letting loose with a whoop reminiscent of his cousin Celegorm at the pinnacle of his wastrel youth, Fingon gave his eager horse his head and thundered down the slope and up the last approach.

Still strung out behind Fingon but moving forward again in an earnest effort to narrow the gap, his standard bearers struggled to unloose their banner and flags of blue and silver. Fingon grinned to himself at the thought of their anxiety. Can they truly believe that Maitimo will not recognize our party?

They had been spotted. The heavy wooden doors to the fortress were dragged open, catching for a moment on the newly fallen snow. Fingon, first through the gate, leapt from his horse and handed him off to a stable boy. Maedhros, his red hair whipped back and forth by the stiff wind, not wearing even a cloak, strode toward Fingon across the snow-covered enclosure crowded with elves and horses.

Maedhros’s smile quite literally melted the snow that landed on his face, while Fingon’s jaws ached from the width of his own irrepressible grin.

"Káno," Maedhros said, pulling him into a fierce embrace. "What are you doing here so late in the season? You will be stuck here until spring."

"Do you truly think so?" Fingon asked, eyes wide in a parody of innocence.

"You can be sure of it, you rascal."

"What a shame," Fingon said laughing. "Then we will just have to make do, won’t we?"

 

Comments

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Oh, thanks for reading and reviewing. You're right that I am long-winded and write a lot of words, but I write so slow! I started another piece about Elrond, but it will take weeks to finish so fell back on this, which was in my head for a birthday request from Dawn! I was just reading yours. It came out very well. Save my comments for the review.

Thank you so much. I am broken-hearted that you didn't sue your poem. Well, there will be other opportunities for that I hope! (Hey and by the way, your very first readings of my guys greatly contributed to the initial development of their characters (Fingon, in particular, Dawn gets most of the credit for Maedhros and their world--hey wait, shouldn't Tolkien come in their somewhere?)--not to mention your continuing comments!) Gotta get back to the textual complexities of Gil-galad. Thanks.

Forget protocol, forget those banners; nobody is going to stop me now! Well okay, that is what I thought when Fingon raced on that hill, a youth that he reclaimed and a great gift of this watchful peace. This ficlet had a beautiful imagery and a lovely view on a carefree Fingon that nearly bursts of the screen here.

As you know, I love your fellows, and this is a scene that puts a big smile on my face.  Káno on his steed thundering down the slope, the ear-to-ear grin, fierce embrace, and Káno's sheer cockiness - great stuff.  In spite of "no angst" and my smile, I read this chilly scene of winter with a feeling of melancholy, knowing M & F's fates.  Nice ficlet and kudos to < 400 words!

Oh, thanks! So glad you enjoyed it. I know all about the melancholy, everytime Mike does a Beta for me on one of the stories in this sequence we end up by sniffing over the end to come. I'm gradually working my wa up to the sad part. I wouldn't have had the nerve to jump this far into the future if Dawn had not requested it for her birthday. (Hey, thanks for your great review of "Maitimo and Findekano" for MEFAs, I'm still fooling around with my review of your piece--it's so smart I feel compelled to write a smart review. Oh, well. I'll do my best."

Awww! Thank you so much.

I got a huge kick out of that image myself, it would be something I love to see on film, the grandeur of the setting, the single-minded focus of handsome, unstoppable Fingon, and the unbearably awkward, frantic and comic machinations of those standard bearers trying to keep up with him. (It's probably tasteless and inappropriate to laugh at the scenes one writes--but Fingon makes me do that! I blame him.)