Maeglin's Choice by chrissystriped

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Chapter Fourteen

Rog looked at his equipment to be sure he had everything ready. Maeglin sat in front of the fire, his upper body naked. It was a private event. A few of their people Maeglin had grown close to in the last months and, to Rog’s delight, Celebrimbor who was squeezing Maeglin’s hand in support. Maeglin had been so happy in the last few days. Rog hadn’t pried, but after the conversation they’d had, he could guess that Celebrimbor had reacted positively to Maeglin’s advances. He was happy for him, the boy deserved someone who reciprocated his love.

“We have come together today”, Rog began to speak, “to give our brother Lómion Maeglin”, he’d asked him to use both his names today, “new lines in his story. He is the nephew of King Turgon. He fought valiantly in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad and it was surely not his fault that the battle went wrong. He had to experience what it means to be in the Eye of Morgoth and still found the courage to tell us of his plans. Is there someone among us who has objections?”

Rog waited for a moment although he didn’t expect anyone to speak up, it was tradition. He could see how Maeglin relaxed in relief when the people stayed silent.

“We want, too, to make it known that we consider each other family." Rog turned to Maeglin, who stood up, and took his hands. “Lómion Maeglin, son of Aredhel, we are not of one blood, but kinship is not always something physical. Your fea and mine feel close and I am proud to be allowed to call you son.”

Maeglin’s eyes shone, he beamed at him and Rog thought that he’d never seen him so happy. “Tamwe Rog, Unbegotten, you where there for me when I thought I didn’t deserve friendship anymore. You led my life back to a brighter way. It is my honour to be allowed to call you father.”

They embraced to the claps of the guests. The custom was strange to most of them, but Rog knew that they were glad when Maeglin was happy. Maeglin sat down again and Rog settled down beside him. He took the needle already threaded with a sinew and dipped it in the ink he’d made earlier in the day. He’d thread it through Maeglin’s skin many times in the next hours.

Tyelcalepte started to play a flute and Rog fell into the familiar rhythm. He liked this work, passing along traditions that were as old as the Quendi. Maeglin’s face was shining with happiness when Rog looked quickly at him. He was proud of doing this and he should be. Celebrimbor was sitting at his other side, holding his hand. Rog smiled and concentrated on the stitches.

 

Tyelpe hadn’t left Maeglin’s side although the smell of his blood made him feel a little queasy. He wasn’t familiar with the customs of the Avari but he was touched that Maeglin had invited him to such an intimate ceremony. He gently stroked his lover’s back as Rog covered his arm with ointment and wrapped something around it that looked like moss. Rog seemed to have seen his doubtful glance because he said: “I know what I’m doing.”

Tyelpe bowed his head. “I didn’t want to insinuate anything else.”

Who was he to doubt his expertise? It just looked a little... archaic. ‘Traditional’, he corrected himself. Rog and his people valued their traditions and Maeglin seemed to join them in that view. They drank to Maeglin and Rog with a beverage that tasted strongly of herbs but didn’t seem to be alcoholic. Tyelpe listened to the conversations, knowing that he was a stranger among them and propped Maeglin up who leaned heavily against him, eyes halfway closed.

“Do you want to go home?”, he murmured into his ear and Maeglin shook his head.

“Can’t be the first one to leave my own party. And”, he smiled happily, “I feel good here. It’s nice to sit here and know that these are my friends.”

One of the elves, Tyelpe thought he’d been introduced to him as Talaran, seemed to have heard Maeglin. He moved closer and squeezed Maeglin’s hand. “Of course we are. This custom is strange to me, but... it has some merit to wear your own history on your skin. You can be proud of what you have done, Maeglin.”

“Thank you.” Maeglin sniffled. “For everything.” He turned his head and whispered to Tyelpe. “And thank you, too.”

Tyelpe hugged him tighter. He knew how much Maeglin longed for love and how unlovable he thought himself. He wanted to show him that he was wrong.

 

Rog had winked at him, when Celebrimbor had said he’d accompany Maeglin home and he’d blushed, because his friend was thinking they’d do something — something Maeglin dearly wished for.

“Will you come in?”, he asked awkwardly when they’d reached his hut. He always felt a little bad that he was sleeping in a house when most of his people still had only tents — but they were building houses as quickly as they could find the materials.

“If you want me to?”, Celebrimbor asked and Maeglin thought he sounded like he wanted him to.

“I do, although…” Maeglin looked at his moss-covered arm and blushed. “I don’t think I’m up to more than a little cuddling. I’d understand, if you don’t want to…”

He looked down, not wanting to see the disappointment in Celebrimbor’s face. Surely he’d tell him now, that under these circumstances… Celebrimbor gently lifted his chin with a finger.

“Cuddling sounds great”, he said and kissed him gently. “Does it hurt very much?”

Maeglin shook his head, then shrugged. “It’s… a dull pain, but it sharpens when I move the arm. And I’m exhausted.”

Maeglin leaned into Celebrimbor’s hands that had started to caress his neck.

“You’re so sweet.” Celebrimbor kissed his forehead. “I’d love to cuddle with you any time. And you don’t need a reason. Never think you need a reason for not being in the mood for sex.”

Maeglin felt tears prick his eyes and quickly turned away to open the door. How did this wonderful elf want to be with him? He couldn’t fathom it. Celebrimbor embraced him from behind. “Always tell me what you want — or don’t want.”

Maeglin leaned against him, feeling tired — and his arm really hurt.

“If you’ll do so, too?”, he asked. He’d feel terrible, if he’d only used Celebrimbor and gave nothing in return.

“Deal”, Celebrimbor said with a smile. “Let’s get you into bed, you sound like you’ll fall asleep on your feet otherwise.”

Maeglin nodded, his lids drooping. Celebrimbor undressed him gently and helped him to lie down. Maeglin squirmed around for a while until he’d found a position that didn’t put pressure on his arm.

“Hold me?”, he whispered to Celebrimbor who’d undressed, too, and waited for him to settle in.

“With pleasure.”

Maeglin exhaled with a sigh and relaxed into Celebrimbor’s warm arms.

“Thank you for coming to the party, it was very nice to have you there.”

Maeglin shivered pleasantly as Celebrimbor’s hand slowly stroked his unhurt arm.

“I liked meeting your people. They seem very loyal.”

“They are.” Maeglin sighed. “More than I deserve.”

“Don’t say that”, Celebrimbor said gently. “You are lovely and deserve the best. Please, don’t argue with me about that.”

Maeglin had already opened his mouth to do so but now he closed it. If Celebrimbor wished it… and really, he wanted to listen to Celebrimbor’s kind words and believe them. He wished he could do so wholeheartedly. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to push the guilt aside and enjoy to lie in the arms of an elf he loved.

Chapter End Notes

The tattooing technique Rog uses is inspired by this article on traditional Inuit tattoos: https://edition.cnn.com/travel/article/inuit-tattoos-culture-canada/index.html

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