A Sense of History: Straight Road
The next in a series of articles about ships passing to and from the West, Simon uses "The Fall of Númenor" to attempt to arrive at Tolkien's reading of the exordium to "Beowulf."
While seeking for Eluréd and Elurín, Maedhros' past catches up with him.
(Horror, hence possibly disturbing images in this fic. A drabble according to Open Office.)
The forest is full of spectres, Maedhros only alive among them. Falling thick as snow, the dead of all his faults and battles, iced-over bones from Helcaraxë cracking under footsteps, dead brothers peering out from snow-drifts, blue-lipped, Fingon's ruined face blowing him kisses. Unhorsed, pathless, he stumbles, seeking – what? It's cold, midwinter. His fire gutters out, there's Ambarussa laughing. Twins. He's seeking twins, Dior's sons, and rouses the dead of Doriath, shrieking, driving needles in his face.
Enough, a woman whispers. They are safe with me. Leave now.
He flies along a sudden path. The dead, unsatisfied, follow.
Written for the following prompts:
O68: Here we come A-Caroling: "We won't go until we get some!", Fëanátics: Maedhros went to look for Elúred and Elúrin, Horror: Footsteps and whispers, Relationships: same-sex relationship