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lotr_sesaTitle: Home is Where the Heart is
Author: Perkyandproud
Recipient: Adlanth (http://adlanth.livejournal.com/)
Pairing: Fingon/Maglor
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All these characters belong to Tolkien, not me!
Request: I like Elrond, Gil-galad, Maglor, Maedhros, Fingon...Any slashy combination is fine. Any other member of the house of Finwë if these really don't inspire you.
Home is Where the Heart is
Fingon sighed in relief as the Great Eagle landed in his cousins' camp. Only a few moments more, he told his cramping fingers.
The uproar as he landed turned to pure chaos as the warriors caught sight of his precious cargo. “It is Maedhros!” “He brought back Maedhros!” “Fingon has returned the Prince's body!”
Fingon shook his head and glared in the direction of the last comment. “Help me with him,” he tried to call out. His voice was gone however; he had been singing constantly to sooth his cousin during the entire flight, to keep him from restlessness due to the pain. He had not gone through all the trials he had to retrieve Maedhros just to lose him so close to that which he called home these days!
Maglor appeared from the massed warriors, pale as sun-bleached sand. “Fingon! Did you finally go mad? What...?”
A low moan cut him off. Maedhros convulsed, slipping free of Fingon's numbed fingers and slid ever so slowly down the Eagle's side.
A hush fell in concentric waves throughout the camp as Maglor caught his elder brother. “He is...alive.” Maglor's eyes, wide with shock, looked up at Fingon for confirmation.
Fingon, giving in to his own exhaustion, could only nod as he too began to fall from the Eagle's back. He was unconscious before he knew if anyone would catch him.
**
It was dark when he awoke. The tent was warm, the blankets comfortable and his wounds were dressed. Fingon blinked sleepily. This needs only two things to be considered Lorien's Garden on Arda, he mused. Well, three. I would also like to know that Maedhros will recover.
His stomach growled loudly and he struggled to untuck the blankets enough to sit up and look around the tent hopeful for food. Not seeing any he sighed and considered if he had the energy to get up and go find some.
A brief tap on the board hanging outside brought his attention to Maglor's entrance...carrying a bowl of soup and a basket.
And those are both of them! Fingon smiled at his cousin and attempted to speak, “Thank you,” but his voice was too raspy to be heard.
At Fingon's frustrated frown, Maglor shook his head and pulled a flask of water from the basket, after setting it and the bowl next to the bed. “Drink. You will regain your voice, I am certain.”
Gratefully Fingon did so. When he finally lowered the flask he found Maglor seated next to him, a peculiar look on his face. “What is it?” he whispered.
“I...Maedhros woke yesterday. He....” Maglor waved one long fingered hand at the bed. “You have been asleep for two days. He...told us...of his rescue. Of what you did.”
Fingon looked down at his fingers, white-knuckled around the flask. “I could not save his hand, I am so sorry.”
Maglor slid over to sit on the bed facing him, taking the flask gently from him and replacing it with his own hands. “He...we do not blame you for that. You brought back my brother, Fingon. That...I have no words. There is nothing I could say or do to repay that gift.”
His cousin's fingers were warm on Fingon's. “Someone had to, and we could not risk you. I could not risk you.” Fingon pulled one hand free to brush a lock of unruly hair back from Maglor's face. “Not knowing was hurting you so much, I had to do something.”
Maglor swallowed heavily and leaned into the hand by his face. “I could have lost you both.”
“No,” Fingon said, strength at last returning to his voice. “There is no way I was not coming back to you. Nothing, not even death, will ever keep us apart.”
Tears glittering in his eyes, Maglor moved forward to kiss him, only to be interrupted by Fingon's growling stomach.
“That does not count!” Fingon told him. “Feed me and then you can have your way with me,” he offered with his most charming, chapped-lip smile.
His tears were far from dry as Maglor laughed and reached for the soup and bread. “That sounds like a deal!”
Fingon's home was wherever Maglor was.
(A/N: Happy holidays, Adlanth! I hope you like your gift!)
Author: Perkyandproud
Recipient: Adlanth (http://adlanth.livejournal.com/)
Pairing: Fingon/Maglor
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All these characters belong to Tolkien, not me!
Request: I like Elrond, Gil-galad, Maglor, Maedhros, Fingon...Any slashy combination is fine. Any other member of the house of Finwë if these really don't inspire you.
Home is Where the Heart is
Fingon sighed in relief as the Great Eagle landed in his cousins' camp. Only a few moments more, he told his cramping fingers.
The uproar as he landed turned to pure chaos as the warriors caught sight of his precious cargo. “It is Maedhros!” “He brought back Maedhros!” “Fingon has returned the Prince's body!”
Fingon shook his head and glared in the direction of the last comment. “Help me with him,” he tried to call out. His voice was gone however; he had been singing constantly to sooth his cousin during the entire flight, to keep him from restlessness due to the pain. He had not gone through all the trials he had to retrieve Maedhros just to lose him so close to that which he called home these days!
Maglor appeared from the massed warriors, pale as sun-bleached sand. “Fingon! Did you finally go mad? What...?”
A low moan cut him off. Maedhros convulsed, slipping free of Fingon's numbed fingers and slid ever so slowly down the Eagle's side.
A hush fell in concentric waves throughout the camp as Maglor caught his elder brother. “He is...alive.” Maglor's eyes, wide with shock, looked up at Fingon for confirmation.
Fingon, giving in to his own exhaustion, could only nod as he too began to fall from the Eagle's back. He was unconscious before he knew if anyone would catch him.
**
It was dark when he awoke. The tent was warm, the blankets comfortable and his wounds were dressed. Fingon blinked sleepily. This needs only two things to be considered Lorien's Garden on Arda, he mused. Well, three. I would also like to know that Maedhros will recover.
His stomach growled loudly and he struggled to untuck the blankets enough to sit up and look around the tent hopeful for food. Not seeing any he sighed and considered if he had the energy to get up and go find some.
A brief tap on the board hanging outside brought his attention to Maglor's entrance...carrying a bowl of soup and a basket.
And those are both of them! Fingon smiled at his cousin and attempted to speak, “Thank you,” but his voice was too raspy to be heard.
At Fingon's frustrated frown, Maglor shook his head and pulled a flask of water from the basket, after setting it and the bowl next to the bed. “Drink. You will regain your voice, I am certain.”
Gratefully Fingon did so. When he finally lowered the flask he found Maglor seated next to him, a peculiar look on his face. “What is it?” he whispered.
“I...Maedhros woke yesterday. He....” Maglor waved one long fingered hand at the bed. “You have been asleep for two days. He...told us...of his rescue. Of what you did.”
Fingon looked down at his fingers, white-knuckled around the flask. “I could not save his hand, I am so sorry.”
Maglor slid over to sit on the bed facing him, taking the flask gently from him and replacing it with his own hands. “He...we do not blame you for that. You brought back my brother, Fingon. That...I have no words. There is nothing I could say or do to repay that gift.”
His cousin's fingers were warm on Fingon's. “Someone had to, and we could not risk you. I could not risk you.” Fingon pulled one hand free to brush a lock of unruly hair back from Maglor's face. “Not knowing was hurting you so much, I had to do something.”
Maglor swallowed heavily and leaned into the hand by his face. “I could have lost you both.”
“No,” Fingon said, strength at last returning to his voice. “There is no way I was not coming back to you. Nothing, not even death, will ever keep us apart.”
Tears glittering in his eyes, Maglor moved forward to kiss him, only to be interrupted by Fingon's growling stomach.
“That does not count!” Fingon told him. “Feed me and then you can have your way with me,” he offered with his most charming, chapped-lip smile.
His tears were far from dry as Maglor laughed and reached for the soup and bread. “That sounds like a deal!”
Fingon's home was wherever Maglor was.
(A/N: Happy holidays, Adlanth! I hope you like your gift!)
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no subject
Date: 2010-12-26 11:38 am (UTC)It was dark when he awoke. The tent was warm, the blankets comfortable and his wounds were dressed. Fingon blinked sleepily. This needs only two things to be considered Lorien's Garden on Arda, he mused. Well, three. I would also like to know that Maedhros will recover.
I love this paragraph...and the rest of the story! Thanks so much for writing it and happy new year!
no subject
Date: 2011-01-09 10:13 pm (UTC)Happy New Year to you too!