The Suffering of Maedhros by Annatar_Targaryen

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Chapter 2

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When Maitimo opened his eyes, he saw Káno's face above him, looking down at him with a mixture of joy and relief.

"Maitimo! You have awakened, thank the Valar! I had feared that you were finished. I could not believe my eyes when I saw our cousin Findecáno on the wings of the King of Eagles, holding you in his arms. All the Eldar in both camps praise the valor of our kinsman, and our uncle has asked that I inform him when you regain consciousness," said Káno, hugging Maitimo warmly.

Maitimo, for his part, embraced his younger brother tightly, tears of joy flowing from his eyes. He had never expected to see his brother's face again, perhaps only in the halls of Mandos.

"If it were not for Findecáno, I would not be here, brother. To him I owe my life, even if it was at the cost of my right hand,” Maitimo said as his brother finally released him, and he sat down on the bed beside him.

He found that he wore no clothing except his trousers. His chest and back were wrapped in linen bandages, as were both arms. When he pulled his right hand out from under the blanket, the stump was also wrapped in white bandages, a reminder of his time in Morgoth's thrall more vividly than any scar the Dark Lord's fiery demons had left on his body, though even that could not compare to the mark that would remain in his mind and heart. The shadow of the horrors he had experienced would haunt him forever.

“I am sorry, brother. I know that our cousin had no choice but to cut off your hand to free you in the first place. Though Turko and Moryo jumped at him, thinking he had maimed you on purpose, and the twins aimed their bows at him, ready to kill him on the spot. As if Findecáno could do the same to you! I stood in his defense, restraining the impulses of our impetuous brothers, and Findecáno patiently explained that there was no way to free you without cutting off your hand, for neither the chain nor the iron band that bound your hand could be cut, nor could the chain itself be torn from the rock. This convinced our stubborn brothers, and soon the heroic deed of our cousin spread far and wide through both camps of the Noldor, and all praise him for it," said Káno.

"And what does our uncle Ñolofinwë think of this? He is certainly proud of his heir's deed," asked Maitimo, well aware that the son of Finwë had always been proud of his first son.

"Of course he is proud, though he was troubled early on. Findecáno disappeared without a word when he went to rescue you, and when it was discovered that he had disappeared, he was troubled. Worst of all was Turukáno, who loudly told anyone who would listen that certain cursed Feanorians had killed his beloved brother and buried his body far from their camps so that none of the Noldor could find him. These rumours reached our camp, and some of our brothers sought to settle it in a not-so-pleasant way. I stopped them from doing so, and went to my uncle's camp myself to speak of the slander. Our uncle rebuked Turukáno for spreading such rumours, though he was clearly troubled by the strange disappearance of his eldest son. I assured him that we had nothing to do with his disappearance, and suggested that since Findecáno and Maitimo were great friends, he might take the risk and go and rescue him. Uncle agreed, though he was clearly in a gloomy mood. He said he had already lost one son and would not want to lose another,” Káno explained.

“He lost one son? But since Findecáno and Turukáno are alive, it must be Arakáno, the youngest of Uncle’s sons. Did he die during the crossing of the Helcaraxë?” Maitimo asked.

Káno shook his head.

“He survived the crossing, but when Uncle’s host entered Endor, they were attacked by Orcs north of where we landed. He managed to fight his way through to the Orc captain and kill him, which contributed greatly to the victory, but he was killed by Orcs shortly afterward,” Káno explained.

“He died a warrior’s death then. May his fëa rest in the halls of Mandos,” Maitimo muttered.

"And why does Turukáno think so ill of us that he accuses us of killing Findecáno?" Maitimo asked after a moment. "Is the main reason the treachery our Atar committed against our uncle and his host, when he ordered the ships to be burned instead of sent to them?"

Káno sighed heavily, and Maitimo noticed that he had not slept for a long time, his long, dark hair disheveled, though not the artistic dishevelment that his younger brother often preferred in Valinor. The dark gray eyes he had inherited from their Amal shone with a pale light, though they looked tired.

"Our cousin lost his wife during the crossing. She was carrying their daughter in her arms when the ice broke beneath him. Turukáno rushed to their rescue, but he could only save Itarillë when Elenwë drowned beneath the ice. Since then there has been no love between him and us, and I doubt that will ever change, brother. When our uncle's troop arrived in Mithrim, Turukáno demanded to speak to our Atar, and when I said he was dead, he went up to Curvo and punched him in the face, and in return punched our cousin in the face. My uncle and I had to intervene, or we would have killed each other, especially since Turko had rushed to our brother's aid. Our uncle dragged Turukáno away, who was shouting and calling us traitors and betrayers. I had to hold Curvo with Turko so that he would not try to attack our cousin," explained Káno.

Maitimo could not blame his cousin for being furious with them. He himself would have felt the same way if, because of his relatives' betrayal, he had been forced to take the dangerous route to get to Endor and lose his beloved wife along the way. He preferred not to think how Turukáno would have reacted to them if he had also lost his daughter during the crossing. He knew what he had to do to restore peace among Finwë's descendants, though he was aware that some of his brothers would not like it. And he had to learn to fight with a left-handed sword, which would certainly take some time.

"Káno, be so kind as to bring me a shirt. I must rise immediately and speak with Uncle Ñolofinwë. The feud between us must be ended immediately, or our enemy, Morgoth, will benefit from it," Maitimo said, throwing off the sheets and sitting on the bed. He brushed back his reddish hair, which fell in loose curls down his bare back.

"Brother, you should lie down and rest. You are not quite recovered yet," Káno objected, catching Maitimo by the arm.

"I have lain long enough, brother. It is time to act, not to be idle in bed. I have recovered enough to speak to our uncle, so be so good as to bring me some clothes, and at once!" Maitimo replied.

Káno gave in, seeing that he could not persuade Maitimo to change his mind, and brought him a red silk shirt, woven in happier days in Valinor, which Maitimo put on at once, glad of their gentle touch against his bare skin. He also changed his leather trousers for woolen ones, then put on high boots and a belt from which hung a sword and dagger, to replace the weapons lost in Angband, and went out of the tent in his company.

Outside there were tents as far as the eye could see, and most of them were bustling with Noldor, minding their own business. Maitimo could see the outline of a palisade far away, which surrounded the camp in a wide arc, protecting it from all attack. Maitimo noticed that Lake Mithrim was now behind him instead of in front of him. He guessed that his brothers and their followers had moved their camp to the southern shore of the lake. He didn't need to ask why they had done so. It was all too obvious to Maitimo.

He looked for his brothers and saw Turko and Curvo sitting by their tents, within bowshot, deep in quiet conversation. Huan, Maitimo's younger brother's loyal hound, sat at his feet, lifting his shaggy head, looking around curiously. It would have been hard to miss him, for the hound was as big as a horse. And even without that, Turko could have been easily spotted among the other Eldar.

His silver hair – a rarity among the Noldor – stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of ​​black and brown that prevailed among the Eldar of that race, unless one had golden-haired Vanyar as one of their parents. Then there were the golden-haired Noldor, such as their cousins, the sons and daughter of their uncle Arafinwë, who had become a coward and decided to return with his tail between his legs to Tirion, as Atar said contemptuously. Turko had tied his silver hair into a single long braid that fell freely down his back. He sat with his back turned to him, talking to the dark-haired Curvo, who reminded him painfully of the dead Atar. On his right cheek was a purple bruise, a reminder of a blow dealt by Turukáno, though Curvo seemed unconcerned.

"Where are Moryo, Telpinquar, and Ambarussa?" Maitimo asked his younger brother.

"Moryo decided to go with the scouts to check the western outskirts of Hísilómë, to see if Morgoth had sent Orcs to test our vigilance. Telpinquar is probably in Curvo makeshift forge, Ambarussa's somewhere, you know they always liked to go their own way and keep to themselves. They've checked on you a few times, like all of us. Findecáno visited you too, more often than most, when you were unconscious. He was the one who bandaged your mangled hand so you wouldn't bleed to death on the flight to camp," Káno replied.

Maitimo felt great gratitude for his cousin, his brother by choice. If it weren't for him, I'd still be chained to a cliff on one of Thangorodrim's peaks, suffering without much hope of rescue or even death to free him from this torment. Findecáno will have his eternal gratitude for what he did for him.

“Brother, go to your uncle’s camp and tell him that I wish to meet with him at our camp on an important matter, which is the reconciliation of our families and followers,” said Maitimo.

“As you wish, brother,” replied Káno, and then he left.

At that moment, two shadows flashed before Maitimo's eyes, jumping on him and wrapping their arms around him. He recognized them as his youngest brothers, his inseparable twins, and hugged them warmly.

"Maitimo! How glad we are that our oldest brother is back on his feet!" cried Ambarussa when they finally let go of Maitimo.

They were both as alike as two peas in a pod, although Pityo had darker hair. Both twins shared Maitimo's red hair from their grandfather Mahtan and were dressed in green robes, carrying bows and quivers full of arrows on their backs. Like Turko, they were keen hunters and often irritated Amal when they brought home hunted animals. They were also known to love making jokes, and this did not limit them to making fun of their older brothers, but their cousins ​​also fell victim to their jokes.

"I am glad to see you too, my little brothers," Maitimo replied, genuinely happy to see his youngest brothers.

"And where did you send Káno in such a hurry?" asked Telvo, the younger of the twins, with a curious look in his gleaming grey eyes.

"To Uncle Ñolofinwë's camp, I wish to speak to him on an important matter," Maitimo replied.

"Then we will go and tell Moryo to return from his patrol. Such important matters concern all the sons of Fëanáro," said Pityo, and without waiting for Maitimo's reaction, he and his twin ran for the horses. They quickly disappeared from the camp, racing against the wind.

Maitimo shook his head at Ambaruss's suddenness, approaching Turko and Curvo. Huan was the first to notice him, beginning to bark, wagging his large whip-like tail in a friendly manner. This caught the attention of his brothers, who looked towards Maitimo. Smiles appeared on their faces. Turko was the first to speak, standing up and walking over to Maitimo, hugging him warmly.

"Brother, it is good to see you awake. We feared that despite our dear cousin's heroism you would not survive. But the Valar have been kind to us, or perhaps your spirit has been more resilient than any of us had imagined."

Maitimo patted his brother on the back. They might not always get along, but he loved his brothers and would stand by them.

"Surely my spirit has been more resilient than even I could have imagined," he said.

"Brother, my son suggested to me the idea of ​​forging a new hand for you, to replace the one our brave cousin Findecáno had chopped off. For that reason too the Noldor would call you Maitimo the Golden Hand," Curvo said, his dark hair falling freely down his back. Around his neck he wore a golden necklace studded with multicoloured gems, and he was richly attired in garments of various shades of red and black.

Maitimo laughed heartily at his brother's words. It was a very amusing thought to wear a false hand in place of his lost one. But even his late Atar, the greatest craftsman in the history of Arda, had not been able to make a hand that could function like a real hand. He doubted that Curvo, who had learned the craft under their father's eye, would have much chance in the matter. He thanked his brother for his offer, though.

"Such a golden hand would be a burden to me, however, and I would have little use for it. I intend to learn to wield a sword with my left hand, so that our enemies may fear the wrath of the one-armed Nelyafinwë Fëanárion!" said Maitimo.

Turko and Curvo laughed at this and Huan barked happily.

"I knew it would be so. After all, such a golden hand is not very handy indeed and I am not skilled enough to make one that could act as a real hand. I doubt even our Atar could do something like that. Perhaps Aulë could do something similar with his art of creation," said Curvo.

Maitimo mentioned to the brothers that he had sent Káno to their uncle's camp and the Ambarussa rushed to bring Moryo back to their camp.

"I wonder what important matter it was that made you send our brother to our uncle's camp?" asked Turko and Curvo's grey eyes seemed to ask the same question, though their owner remained silent on the matter.

"You will see when I speak to our uncle, my brothers," replied Maitimo shortly and refused to let the brothers taste anything from him. Turko even used Huan for this purpose, but Maitimo scratched the lovely hound behind the ears, but could not be persuaded to reveal what business he had with his uncle Ñolofinwë.

Before the uncle's arrival the twins returned, accompanied by Moryo and six other riders on swift horses from Aman. A ruddy complexion and jet-black hair, much darker than Curvo's dark hair and Káno's dark brown hair, distinguished Maitimo's brother. A broad smile appeared on his face when he saw Maitimo. He walked briskly up to him, hugging him warmly.

"Brother, I knew you would recover. Too strong a spirit inhabits your body for torture and the loss of your right hand to destroy you. My heart rejoices at the sight of you as never before," said Moryo.

"It is good to see you too, my brother. I see you are doing quite well. It is good that all the sons of Fëanáro have gathered in one place. Uncle Ñolofinwë will soon arrive at my invitation, and then many matters will be settled between our families,” replied Maitimo.

Soon his uncle arrived, accompanied by his sister, Aunt Irimë, slender and tall, who shared the dark hair of the House of Finwë with her brother and his children. Unlike her elder sister Findis, who had stayed with her mother in Aman, Irimë had gone with her brother, leaving Aman and had survived the passage of the Helcaraxë straits. Findecáno, Turukáno, and Írissë, dressed in white and silver, with raven-black hair cascading down her back, had also come. He saw Turukáno cast them a hostile glance, but Findecáno smiled at Maitimo, and all that mattered to him was that his brother by choice still held him in true friendship. With them were also the sons and daughter of Arafinwë, golden-haired Findaráto, who loved to wander, Angaráto with strong hands and a serious disposition, Ambaráto with eyes that seemed to burn with a bright light and hair of gold, straight and stiff, generous and noble among the Noldor, and of course the unwavering Artanis, the fairest of Finwë's descendants, with hair of gold interwoven with silver as if someone had imprisoned the light of the Two Trees in it.

Maitimo had heard that it was her hair that had given his father the idea of ​​creating the Silmarils, and he knew that during the events in Alqualondë she had stood up for her mother's kin, killing more than one of Atar's followers. With her he would have to be careful, for she had previously felt little love for them and now probably none at all.

There were also many other Elves who accompanied their uncle, and at the head of the whole procession went his brother Káno. Maitimo smiled at his brother, who quickly joined them.

His uncle stepped out in front of the group and approached him with a serious face. His long, jet-black hair fell almost to his waist.

"Welcome, Nelyafinwë. I am glad to see you, for I see that my son and heir's risky rescue of your life from the hands of the Enemy was not in vain. I regret that I did not hear your voice when my host and I stood before the gates of Angband. If I had heard you then, I would have sent someone to rescue you. Despite the treachery of your father, my half-brother, I bear you no ill will, nor your brothers," spoke Ñolofinwë, crossing his arms over his chest. "I wonder what matter you wish to speak to me about. Kanafinwë's words were brief enough."

"And what can these faithless and traitorous men tell us? Why did Atar agree to come to Nelyafinwë's summons at all, as if he were his trained dog? We have no reason to treat with them,” Turukáno said, looking at them with undisguised hostility.

“Be calm, brother. Maitimo must have a good reason for summoning our father to his camp. I have known him long enough to know that he would not waste time without a good reason,” Findecáno put in a conciliatory tone.

“You will listen to your brother, my son. Findecáno is not blinded by anger at the sons of Fëanáro as he is by you, though I understand the reasons for that. So let Nelyafinwë tell us what he wishes to tell us,” Ñolofinwë said, looking sternly at his other son.

Turukáno fell silent, but Maitimo could see in his grey, sad eyes a burning hostility towards himself and his brothers. He was grateful to his chosen brother and uncle for silencing Turukáno, he would not interrupt him when he said what he had planned.

"I assume my brother has told his uncle all that has happened since your arrival on the shores of Endor?" Maitimo asked.

Ñolofinwë nodded.

"Yes, I have heard of my half-brother's death, who fell in battle with the demons of fire and shadow who serve our common Enemy. I will mourn Fëanáro as I remembered him before the lies of Morgoth divided us, rather than the Elf he became," his uncle replied.

Maitimo knew that relations between his Atar and his uncle had always been strained, but he was grateful for the words. He also knew that what he was about to do was surely good for all of them, even if not everyone would like it.

"If there lay no grievance between us, lord, still the kingship would rightly come to you, the eldest here of the house of Finwë, and not the least wise."

The words surprised everyone present. Uncle, cousins ​​and his brothers. Maitimo was aware of the controversial nature of this decision. That he was renouncing the title that belonged to him by birth and inheritance. However, he considered that his uncle deserved the title, for he had been a good king in Tirion when he had ruled the Noldor in his grandfather's name, and it had also reconciled their followers with those of his uncle. Now more than ever they had to be united against the common enemy of all the Eldar.

"I will not say that I am not surprised, for I expected that you would take the title yourself, which belonged to you by right of birth and kinship. But I will accept it, and let it be known that there will be peace between us and an everlasting alliance. Let nothing more divide us, for we must be united if we are to cope with the threat from the common Enemy," said Ñolofinwë.

Maitimo saw that some of his brothers did not like this, but none dared to protest. He knew it would probably give him headaches, but he did not care. The important thing was that the Noldor remained united against Morgoth.

"Maitimo, why don't you take a walk with me in the starlight? We can reminisce about the more peaceful times we spent in Aman, before the Enemy ruined it with his lies," Findecáno said, a familiar twinkle in his gray eyes.

Maitimo could only smile at his best friend.

"With pleasure, my friend. We have much to catch up on," Maitimo said, and soon they were out of the camp, chatting like the good old days.

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Chapter End Notes

Amrod - Pityo - Ambarussa

Amras - Telvo - Ambarussa

Turgon - Turukáno

Aredhel - Írissë

Finarfin - Arafinwë

Finrod - Findaráto

Angrod - Angaráto

Aegnor - Ambaráto

Galadriel - Artanis

I follow Tolkien's version, in which Orodreth is the son of Angrod, not Finarfin.