The Heat From The Ashes
Part 3
Posted: September 19, 2008
*****
“I," Fingon halted uncertainly, “I wanted to come, to come and nurse you till you were better, cousin. It broke my heart to see you thus.”
Maedhros remained silent. Fingon laid his hand on Maedhros’s arm as he leant forward and said quietly, “I was afraid to come to you when I was myself in torment. I feared that my presence would be detrimental for your well being. I was at the gates each time Turgon or Adar rode home after seeing you.”
“Why did you stay away?” Maedhros whispered, “I wished to see you, cousin, for I felt only you could understand what I have become.”
Fingon knelt before his cousin and said softly, “Everyone have realized what you have become, Maitimo, the noblest of the Noldor, the bravest amongst the house of Finwe. I am proud of you, cousin. And my heart thanks the Valar every day for having returned you to me…to all of us," he hastily amended.
Maedhros nodded before resting his fingers on Fingon’s head and murmured softly, “Only you came.”
They walked together underneath the star studded skies as they had done long ago in Aman. Fingon shivered and drew his robes tighter, cold was how he felt even on a mild night after the crossing of the Helcraxe.
“I am sorry," Maedhros sighed, “It is one more wrong I have done.”
“It is one more wrong of our fathers that we were unable to correct," Fingon said dismissively as he watched Maedhros’s coppery brown hair fly lightly in the wind. Maedhros shuddered and closed his eyes tightly as if trying to ward a memory away.
“What is it?” Fingon asked concernedly placing his hand on Maedhros’s hand and cherishing the closeness.
“Nothing," Maedhros shrugged, “It is a cold night, and I am tired, cousin. Maybe we should retire.”
“Do not lie, Maitimo, you were never good at that," Fingon chided him, “And we are not going in unless you promise to tell me what has upset you.”
A mask of inscrutability fell across Maedhros’s features as he said lightly, “You worry too much, Findekano. I have had enough of that from Macalaurë.”
Fingon paused walking, making his cousin turn back to look at him hesitantly. There was a determination on his face that made Maedhros realize that Fingon was determined to pry until he got his questions answered. A longing rose in Maedhros, he had wanted badly to tell someone of his fears, of what he had borne. Yet he could not bring himself to relive those memories before others. He had nobody to confide in. Maglor was already worried enough on his account and he could not burden his younger brother with his tale. None of his other siblings cared much for him. He was on good terms with all of his cousins except for haughty Artanis, but only with Fingon had he shared his fears always.
“I give you my word, Findekano," Maedhros said, “But let us go inside. I prefer the comfort of my own rooms for this.”
When they were in Maedhros’s rooms, Fingon took a seat and Maedhros leant back against the mantelpiece saying softly, “You asked me why I could not bear the wind. My body was battered by the cruel gales in Angband. They were hot during the day and bitterly cold during the night. After that I have a healthy dislike of the winds.”
“What happened?” Fingon asked him quietly, though he was not sure that he could bear the tale. The pain and loss that darkened Maedhros’s eyes sent a shiver down his spine.
“I was captured, led to Morgoth," Maedhros’s eyes had taken on a faraway look, “He gave me over to Sauron. They cut off my hair, shackled me, pronounced me a thrall of Angband," his voice was filled with horror and pain as he continued not noticing that Fingon had closed his eyes in grief, “The orcs took my innocence, ravaging me day and night without respite. When they tired of my screams and my blood, they started the endless torture in one of those chambers which I hope that no elf enters again," he looked at Fingon who was now crying softly, “Cousin, I cannot tell what I suffered, but I was scared and screamed in a voice more animal than elven until I had lost the strength to scream. Then they took me to the Thangorodrim, where I hung in the rain, sun and the winds without the slightest hope. But when I heard your voice, Fingon, I forgot all my pain and humiliation, I would have faced Mandos himself happily after that, for I knew that you did not hate me for the crossing.”
“You will recover," Fingon said quietly as he got to his feet and walked to his cousin’s side. He admired the understated elegance and beauty in his cousin’s form as he stood leaning against the mantelpiece. The firelight cast shadows on Maedhros’s hollowed features and Fingon laid his palm involuntarily against his cousin’s cheek whispering, “Not even Morgoth can destroy your fire, cousin.”
“There was a day when I believed that proudly," Maedhros sighed, tracing the tears trailing down Fingon’s eyes with a long, elegant finger.
“There has never been a day when I did not believe that," Fingon said confidently looking into those grey eyes.
“You have no idea what they took from me," Maedhros said harshly, “It was not only my clothes that they stripped away, but also my pride, my beauty, my confidence and above all my innocence. It is for the last that I weep for," he averted his eyes and turned crimson in shame as he continued bravely, “I hate myself for each time they forced themselves on me. How can anyone bear to touch me after knowing what has been done? I am no better than the cheapest body seller. I have disgraced my family, my friends and my comrades.”
Fingon murmured, “Speak not thus, cousin, for I will not hear you debasing yourself with such words. You have endured. And I weep for what you have suffered, but rejoice in seeing you again safe. You will find that everybody yearns for the touch of the most handsome of the Noldorin Princes if you bother to find out.”
“Broken, tortured, maimed, partly insane," Maedhros spat, “Who would touch me with a willing heart? Cousin, would you?”
“If you would let me," Fingon replied holding Maedhros’s eyes steadily. He watched as fear, surprise and sorrow flitted across the much loved visage.
Maedhros cupped his hand on Fingon’s chin and kissed his forehead chastely before moving away, saying sadly, “You are the most handsome of the house of Finwe, cousin and I love you well. If you had asked this before Thangorodrim, I would have agreed with joy even though I had never taken a lover before. But now, Findekano, I thank you for your selfless generosity. I cannot accept it. My pride is broken, true, but I still cannot accept your pity.”
“I have never taken a lover before," Fingon said quietly, “There has been a reason. Only your face has held my mind whenever I think of love. I would have approached you if I had met you before Thangorodrim on Arda after the Exile. But never in Valinor, for I could not risk the Valar’s wrath falling on you. Now we meet under different circumstances, and it is not pity or sympathy that moves me to say this. Why else do you think I avoided seeing you for two years?”
Maedhros smiled sorrowfully, “Findekano, you break my heart again. Please stop these words, I cannot bear them. I want you to be happy and well, cared for by one who is worthy enough of you, worthy enough of Fingon, the Valiant.”
Fingon strode to him and demanded furiously, “Would you have me fade from my love for you, cousin?”
Maedhros opened his mouth to protest but he saw the truth in Fingon’s eyes. He clenched his fists before saying tiredly, “When you came to me on the Thangorodrim, I said that you could take me where you wished to, do what you will. Now you say that you love me. So be it, I will not reason with you further, my body is yours for tonight. Do what you will. If you tire of this broken form before tomorrow morning, we shall never speak of this again. Else," he hesitated, “else I will think upon this.”
Fingon’s eyes sparkled as he said smiling, “Fair, my cousin, let me prove my love then.”
Maedhros’s eyes widened as he saw Fingon untying his robes confidently. They parted to reveal a white undertunic that clung onto a well formed chest. Fingon threw his robes away carelessly. His tight leggings were strained as his erection grew. Maedhros sunk into the chair behind him disbelievingly. He could not believe that his practical, always regal cousin was doing this. If it had been one of his less restrained brothers he could have expected such an act.
He gasped as Fingon quietly removed his undertunic revealing his muscled chest, cream except for the dark twin points that stood upright. He could feel a sweet pain beginning to form between his own legs. A flush crept onto his handsome features, it deepened as Fingon gave a triumphant laugh and unlaced his leggings and drew them down revealing his desire.
“Well?” Fingon raised his eyebrows as he crossed his arms behind his back and stood proudly waiting for Maedhros to say something, “Have you convinced yourself that I desire you? What do you think?”
“I think that you are the most handsome of the Noldorin Princes," Maedhros said hoarsely unable to keep his eyes roving over the perfect body, “You have proved that you do not pity me, I thank you, cousin and love you all the more for that. But,” he shook his head trying to form words as Fingon came nearer and said seductively, “Will you deny me a kiss, Maitimo?”
“I will never deny you anything, cousin," Maedhros closed his eyes and opened them again to find Fingon’s lips pressing down on his own. The kiss was soft, almost chaste in its intensity, yet it belied none of the fervour that possessed Fingon, a tongue nudged Maedhros’s lips tentatively seeking entrance. Maedhros compiled and moaned softly as the tongue delved in.
Fingon’s hands embraced Maedhros tightly, his naked body straddled his seated cousin who was finding it more difficult with each passing instant to retain his senses. Finally Maedhros gave himself into the kiss and threaded his fingers through the black hair of his cousin.
“Cousin," Fingon gasped as he broke for a breath, “Your taste is intoxicating. I could get used to it.”
Maedhros’s look of pure bewilderment was enough to make Fingon chuckle saying, “You are a case, Maitimo!”
Maedhros smiled helplessly and bent down to catch Fingon’s lips again. They kissed passionately until they had to part for breath again, then Fingon got to his feet and pulled Maedhros up saying, “May I do something I have long wished to do again?”
Maedhros nodded, thinking of his cousin’s last word. It was something Fingon had claimed to have done before, so it could not be anything drastic. He gasped in shock as strong arms lifted him easily and drew him to a hard chest.
“Wh--," Maedhros’s question was cut off as Fingon silenced him with a kiss.
Fingon carried Maedhros to the adjoining chamber and then dropped him gently onto the bed saying happily, “I have wanted to carry you thus for a long time. May I do it again?”
Maedhros gave into his cousin’s excitement and pulled him beside his body muttering, “As long as nobody witnesses, cousin.”
“Good," Fingon kissed Maedhros again and brought his mouth to nuzzle on the pale throat. Beneath him Maedhros writhed and squirmed as he dug his nails on Fingon’s back.
“May I unwrap the gift you have given me tonight from these robes?” Fingon asked seductively.
“You are a charmer, cousin," Maedhros said grumpily, though his warm tone belied his anger, “Go slow though," fear shadowed his eyes, “I do not wish the past to resurface in these moments of bliss.”
Fingon laughed and started to disrobe Maedhros.
He said reverently as he saw the beautiful body lying prone before him, “It is a true gift, cousin and I thank you.”
Maedhros shivered slightly as Fingon’s eyes moved predatorily down his body quickly followed by a curious pair of hands.
“Beautiful," Fingon said softly, “So beautiful that it must be revered.”
“Well, my gracious hosts at Angband did not think thus," Maedhros remarked amusedly watching his cousin’s expression of wonder. He gasped in shock and pleasure as Fingon took him in his mouth. Maedhros lost all coherent thoughts as he rode higher and higher up on the waves of pleasure before falling limp onto the pillow, his chest heaving as he cried out his cousin’s name.
Fingon laughed as he watched Maedhros steady himself with a shake of his coppery head and mumble weakly, “You sprite! And they say that my father was mad! I shall pay you for this!”
“Then make me pay, Maitimo," Fingon said hopefully, “Make love to me. Take me.”
Maedhros’s eyes were again haunted as he said, “It hurts, Findekano. I can never hurt you," seeing the sadness in Fingon’s eyes, he said firmly, “You take me.”
“And I would not have any fear in hurting you?” Fingon asked disbelievingly.
“No," Maedhros smiled confidently, “You will not hurt me, cousin. Anyway I gave my body to you tonight. So claim it well.”
Fingon nodded seeing his cousin’s confidence and taking a deep breath reached for a bottle containing what looked to be healing salve on the bedside table. He opened the jar and slathered the paste onto his fingers liberally. Maedhros watched him through his half-closed eyelids. He was so deep in his musings that he did not gasp even when a finger had penetrated him. He shuddered only when a second finger invaded him. As it brushed against something, he cried in pleasure. Fingon’s merry laugh brought him back to his senses. He scowled but then cried out again as something larger slipped within him and struck the pleasure point again. They moved slowly, their hands gripped on each other’s waists until Fingon climaxed with his cousin’s name on his lips. He fell on Maedhros exhausted.
“You believe my love now?” he lazily asked Maedhros as he traced patterns on the pale chest beside him.
“It was the paste Macalaurë uses to soothe his voice," Maedhros replied absently, “he will have our hides.”
Fingon growled.
“You strip well," Maedhros stifled a giggle as Fingon cursed him.
“I look forward to the payback, cousin," Maedhros snuggled closer drowsily. There was bliss even away from the Lands of the Valar.
*****
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