Hair Commander by Elwin Fortuna

| | |

Fanwork Notes

Written for Narya for The Mane Event 2021. 

Fanwork Information

Summary:

Maedhros shows Fingon a new way of thinking about himself.

Major Characters: Fingon, Maedhros

Major Relationships: Fingon & Maedhros

Artwork Type: No artwork type listed

Genre: Ficlet, Fluff

Challenges:

Rating: General

Warnings:

Chapters: 1 Word Count: 762
Posted on 26 March 2021 Updated on 7 April 2021

This fanwork is complete.

Hair Commander

Read Hair Commander

“Even your father seems to think Artanis’ hair is something special,” Fingon groused. “It’s literally the only thing he’s ever been known to like about any of us.”

“Well, I like you and your hair just fine,” Maedhros said, poking Fingon in the shoulder. “You don’t need long gold-and-silver locks to impress me.”

But Fingon wasn’t consoled. “It’s boring. Ordinary Noldorin hair, with no redeeming features. Ugh!” He flipped a lock of it back over his shoulder with a grimace.

“Well, your brothers and sister all have the same hair too, and they get along with it just fine,” Maedhros said, trying to figure out what Fingon was getting at.

Fingon rolled his eyes. “Irissë’s got that White Lady with the raven-dark hair thing that she does. Personally I think she enjoys the contrast of wearing all those fancy white dresses out hunting and coming home all muddy and bloody for my mother to be horrified at. Turkáno, I’m sure, has barely noticed that he even has hair, and Arkáno’s a kid mainly concerned with keeping it out of his face. No, Maitimo, we are definitely the least impressive branch of the family when it comes to hair.”

Maedhros opened his mouth as if to object, but Fingon continued, cutting him off. “I don’t know how your family managed to get not only three different shades of red, but three different shades of brown or black and Tyelko’s silver-pale hair! And I couldn’t even get Grandmother’s Indis’ locks like Findaráto did.” Finally subsiding, he slumped back in his seat. Maedhros put a comforting arm around him and said nothing for a moment, looking across the room to where the curtains were tied back with thin braided golden ropes.

“Findekáno, what does your name mean?” he asked, and Fingon turned to look at him quizzically.

"Maitimo, please don't tell me you're referencing that old joke about Grandfather," he said.

"Yes, I am," Maedhros said, standing up and walking over to the curtains, untying them, and taking the golden braids in his hand. "Command isn't something you're just born to. You have to learn it. You have to earn it." He sat down again beside Fingon. "Here, turn away from me for a little bit. I want to try something." He held the thin rope up next to Fingon's long dark straight hair. "Yes, I think this will work."

A little while later, Maedhros bade him cover his eyes and brought Fingon to stand in front of a large mirror. "You can look now," he said. "I hope you like what you see."

"Maitimo!" Fingon gasped, hands flying up to cover his mouth. He turned a little to catch the effect of the ropes which had been twisted into his hair elaborately, diving into and out of three braids which then were themselves braided together and pinned up against the back of his head. "I look...I look..." He was unable to articulate it and just threw himself into Maedhros' arms, looking up at him adoringly.

"You look like the prince you are," Maedhros said. "You always have, of course, but now, perhaps, a little bit more unique? A little bit more in command of yourself, of your image? No one else in our family would wear their hair like this."

"That's true," Fingon said, looking at himself in the mirror again, one arm around Maedhros. "No one will say now that I have boring Noldorin black hair."

"I would be surprised if anyone but you ever thought that, Finno," Maedhros said. "My own father's hair is similar to yours and no one thinks that about him."

"Well, yes, but he's the Great Fëanáro!" Fingon said, laughing. "The genius Prince, the inventor of Tengwar, the father of seven sons, the creator of near every gem of note this side of the Sea...I could go on. No one cares about his hair!"

Maedhros tilted his head. "That is some of what they say about him, yes. What would you want people to say about you?"

Fingon stepped back, taking a closer look at himself in the mirror again. When he spoke, it was to Maedhros in the mirror, standing just behind him. "That I'm valiant and brave. That I do what must be done. And yes, that I look good doing it!"

"Take it from me, Finno, you do!" Maedhros said, laughing. "And you are. It's just a little more visible now."


Comments

The Silmarillion Writers' Guild is more than just an archive--we are a community! If you enjoy a fanwork or enjoy a creator's work, please consider letting them know in a comment.

Elwin Fortuna has requested the following types of constructive criticism on this fanwork: Spelling, Grammar, and Mechanics. All constructive criticism must follow our diplomacy guidelines.