I have kept no hope for myself

Title: I have kept no hope for myself
Category: Books » Silmarillion
Author: AzzyDarling
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T
Genre: Romance/Angst
Published: 02-05-11, Updated: 02-05-11
Chapters: 1, Words: 1,393

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Chapter 1: Chapter 1

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Author: lj user=”azzy”

title: I have kept no hope for myself/ ú-chebin estel anim

fandom: The Silmarillion

characters: Maedhros, Fingon

warnings: light romance, angst.

rating: T

AN; You know how I feel about Elvish, I don’t give a flying F, this should supposedly mean what it says in the title slot, and should presumably be Quenyan, not that I’d know Greek from elvish. Oh I missed these boys =) That tune existed no where, so I uploaded it myself on youtube. I apologize if some countries can’t see it.

When all other lights go out.

“Tis’ a beautiful wedding, cousin,” Maedhros said, raising his glass to toast with Fingon.

Fingon smiled and toasted with the fiery haired elf. It was good to see a smile, however distant in his eyes. They had been dead to the world for too long, and before that, they had been consumed by dark determination. Fëanor’s son indeed. “Thank you.” He looked up at the skies that looked like they were gathering for rain. “I just hope the rain will wait.”

Maedhros grinned, “I’m sure we can manage a little rain.”

Fingon’s expression darkened and he stepped closer to his cousin, “How are you holding up? Out there by yourself.”

Maedhros’ mouth became a fine line of anger, showing Fingon that he had clearly overstepped some invisible boundary.

“Honestly cousin, I worry.” Fingon said softly, not letting the matter lie.

“Don’t ask unless you want to hear the answer.” Maedhros answered cryptically.

Fingon took a sip of his wine. It suddenly tasted like sour defeat, not like the merry bubbles it had just moments ago. He could hear the slight accusing tone in Maedhros’ voice. He figured that he deserved it, and should not pick this fight with him, he should be out dancing with his bride. Yet he looked directly at Maedhros, “I do want the answer, do not think so little of me, cousin.”

“I feel insignificant and alone, like the forgotten child of greater forefathers,” Maedhros said, his voice laced with sadness and venom. Hatred against his own kin, who no matter what he did would never see him as anything but the eldest of Fëanor’s sons. And even if decades had gone by, there were those who still hated him for adding fuel to his fathers flame. Something which he had never done, at least that was not how he remembered it. He remembered his father calling him a coward when he called for reason, trying to calm tempers. Even when he had tried to unite his kind he had been looked upon as unworthy. Some had followed, others had seen him as an imposter.

“I feel terribly guilty that I have not visited more,” Fingon said, and as Maedhros started to walk off, Fingon followed. They took up a slow steady pace, walking in silence till Maedhros suddenly stopped, and turned around, looking at his cousin.

“I asked you to never come back, all you did was to respect my word,” Maedhros said with a tiny sad smile. “I hold no grudges against you, Fingon.”

Fingon looked down at the ground between his feet, feeling slightly belittled, even if he had no reason to. “Still… when have I listened to anything you said?” He opened his mouth to say something more, but it died on his lips.

Maedhros sat down on a nearby stone bench with a sigh. “I want to be happy for you,” he said barely audible. Ffor a second he looked up at Fingon, “Look at you, married with a child on the way, you are indeed loved. And that makes me both happy and sad. Happy because you are happy, but sad because that happiness is not mine.” He idly caught a red curl that had unfolded itself from his elaborate hairdo, and stuck it behind his ear. “Don’t get me wrong, cousin, I am not jealous of your success, I…”

“You are a lot of things Maedhros, jealous is not one of them,” Fingon said softly, sitting down next to his cousin. “You are the strongest, bravest, wisest one I know, I don’t understand why you won’t allow yourself the luxury of seeing it too.”

“I am done, that is what I am,” Maedhros said with a little smile. “I tried to be strong, I tried to be wise, I tried to lift my heritage. I tried to unite, and I tried to love.” He closed his eyes, his expression serene, as if he had completely come to terms with everything that had transpired. “None of it worked, because I never had the will to see it through.” He laughed a little soft, mirthless laugh. “You are the one that will live on in history, not me.”

“Stop it Maedhros,” Fingon whispered. “It was not your fault that… that we went our separate ways, my alliance lay different than yours, but it does not change that I loved you, and you loved me. I know you did!”

Maedhros turned his head, and opened his eyes, staring straight at Fingon. “True,” he shrugged, “But that was a long time ago.” He flashed Fingon a bright smile. “You should bury the past, cousin, it will not serve anything to keep digging up old memories from far away shores.”

“Suppose not,” Fingon sighed, the conversation stilled, and an uncomfortable silence spread between them. Finally Fingon downed the last of the wine in his glass and left it carefully on the bench. “How about your arm, does it still hurt?”

Maedhros lied, shaking his head in reply.

Fingon squinted his eyes, not believing his cousins vague answer, “So you are rid of the horrible phantom pains?”

Maedhros decided that lying was not really an option. “We should get back to the party, your wife will miss you, and Maglor will worry too.”

Fingon wrapped an arm around Maedhros’ shoulders, “I wish you would consider to come live here with us.”

Maedhros almost burst out in a manic laugh, that had to be the worst idea he had ever heard. “You know I cannot,” He said. sounding slightly amused. He gently pushed Fingon’s arm off his shoulder, “Your destiny lies elsewhere, so does mine.”

“To what end? Rotting away in that old cold castle of yours?” Fingon argued while his temper flared at his cousins rejection.

Turning to look at Fingon, Maedhros shook his head again, “Or rotting away here?”

“Must you be so depressing?” Fingon asked sourly, “Why do you think I went searching for you when all others had given up? Why do you think I stayed by your side, waiting for you to recover?” he asked, knowing he was exposing his deepest thoughts, reasoning he had kept to himself through decades. “Because I never stopped caring, that is why,” he almost spat out.

Maedhros looked deflated, tired and old. “You are not this naïve,” he stated. Standing up, he looked down at his cousin still seated at the bench. “We were but children when we loved. Life in middle earth crushed that child, long, long ago Fingon. I would advise you to speak no more of this folly, and return to your beautiful wife, and be a good husband and father.” He looked over in the direction of the party, “You need not worry about me, I might be left in solitude, but I am not finished with life,” he cleared his throat, “Just some aspects of it.”

“Like love?” Fingon argued.

“Yes, like love,” Maedhros said, “I closed that door when I left the white shores, but you are just on the verge of your masterpiece, don’t deny yourself that, all because of old shadows of memories. Be proud of what you have, and tend your garden well. It shall return to you tenfold, I promise.”

“Fingon? Fingon? My Lord?” An elf came running in their direction. “It is time for the ceremony to end, they are waiting for you, my Lord.”

Fingon looked over at Maedhros, who looked away. “I’m on my way,” Fingon said, and started to walk towards the wedding party.