Many Journeys by Elleth

The Shaking Off of Nightmares

Written for Idleleaves for the 2011 fandom_stocking. Maedhros, Fingon, and ways to deal with nightmares. Fluff.

Maedhros lay back into the pillows and forced a smile at the dark head beside him. Sleep-tousled and yawning, Fingon propped himself up on one elbow. "What is wrong?" he murmured. Maedhros shook his head and burrowed deeper into the pillows, pulling the blanket up. He knew his face was covered in sweat despite the cool air in the room, but Fingon did not have to see that his hair was all but plastered to his skull. Too late, apparently.

"Another nightmare? You are supposed to wake me." Fingon could always read him, but he did not sound angry. Worse – he sounded disappointed, worried, and his brows knit into a frown. "What about?"

"Nothing in particular." Maedhros saw no point in denying the obvious, but the contents of the dream he kept to himself. The doors of Angband gaping like a trap in place of Himring's gates, and Fingon, all his usual exuberant joy, rushing into them when he only meant to visit Maedhros in his keep. And worst, the clang of the doors snapping shut and an all-too-clear idea of what awaited Fingon.

He shook his head to clear it of the images and glanced out of the window at the lightening sky. "Would you like breakfast? The ovens will already be lit and you know my kitchen personnel will be happy to oblige you."

Fingon laughed. "Naturally, I am their king. Pity that their efforts will be entirely in vain, seeing how I already have a bed to come back to. But I still like the way you run this. Being a little more self-sufficient would not hurt at Eithel Sirion – it would make for more discretion when you visit, at any rate. Always dismissing the servants with you there makes for a lot of talk. Made, I should say. Not anymore."

It may have been Fingon's laugh, or perhaps his lack of acknowledging the nightmare existed beyond a few words, but Maedhros began to relax. Over the years, they had tried many different tactics, talking the dreams through despite Maedhros' reluctance, glasses of tea with this herb or that recommended by the Master Healer, glasses of hot milk with honey recommended once upon a time by Anairë as a cure-all for the petty troubles of the Blessed Realm, glasses of wine, sometimes in excess, running, riding, archery contests, a walk through Himring's hothouse and the glass-covered gardens discussing politics and poetry, a swim in Sirion, visiting the stables, whatever Fingon could think of as an endeavour before sleep that might favourably shape Maedhros' dreams, and often enough, the very physical side of comfort. They had had varying success; sometimes Maedhros still woke screaming, sometimes he merely woke, sometimes he slept on into quieter dreams. And as often as he had the chance, he would deny that he had had nightmares at all, and yet, Fingon could always read him. But then, he had had hundreds of years and countless mutual visits to hone that skill; in fact so many that Maedhros had heard the men of his retinue jest among themselves about Himeithel and Eithel Ring, and had to admit that that was not entirely untrue.

It was a little baffling to think that the lack of acknowledgment should be what would solve the aftermath of the nightmares best of all, but if it worked, Maedhros was not one to complain. He chuckled to himself and felt the dark lift further from his mind.

"Ah, so you are awake. I was wondering if you had drifted off again, you had that look." With a rustle of bedclothes, Fingon moved closer and draped an arm over Maedhros' torso, smiling up at him with cautious optimism. Maedhros would not usually use the word 'caution' with Fingon, but here it applied for once. He wondered if he should feel special, to be the one matter in the world that Fingon used caution with.

"It worked?"

"Hmm-mh." He was, frankly, too comfortable to say more, but the more radiant smile he got in return was answer enough, and he tugged on a braid, grinning as Fingon slid up for a kiss.

"Good morning, then. As more than a figure of speech."