driftfleet | Open, Fleetwise, 001

Entry tags:

Open, Fleetwise, 001

Who: Fëanor and YOU!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: HS Marsiva
When: Morning

[A hand reaches out to grasp a mechanical limb before grey eyes even blink open to stare suspiciously. Fëanor feels rested, energized even, despite the most recent long hours spent over the forge's fires working on his masterpiece.]

Who dares...?

[Awareness flickers through him and the elf pauses. He sits up from the bed, though doesn't immediately move to get off, nor release the robot's 'arm'. An impatient hand reaches up and shoves a lock of black hair that had gotten free of the loose braid back behind a pointed ear and he studies the robot a bit more closely.]

Do you have a name? Are you a thinking creature? [A pause and he absently hums, head tilting a little in thought.] I think not in the ways of Arda.

['Bot, be glad he has no tools on him.]

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(There is a smile he loves. Memories of a bright, happy childhood follow that smile. He had laughed and played games with his precious Atar until the sun set. Fëanor had seemed tireless and so full of affection for his sons back then.

Maedhros knows that his father suffered from the Silmarils too. Perhaps he suffered the most. If some part of Fëanor remained sane...

He shudders and gives a soft smile of understanding.)

You alone can achieve it. I do not doubt you.

(Joy outweighs his uncertainty. He wants nothing more than to embrace his father and feel him whole.)

Every day, then.

[The days when Maedhros was so very small had been full of cheerful laughter and much play. The forge hadn't kept Fëanor away for long in those days. Then Nerdanel would become pregnant again and he'd fret and fuss over her, needing his firstborn near most of the time. He wouldn't make the mistake his father had, as much as he loves Finwë fiercely.

Then more babies, and he loves each of them.

He hasn't known the suffering of needing a jewel above all else. But he can see the effect of it on his son's face, and that's enough, now, to tell him he does not want this. And his Maedhros believes in him, and that's a balm to the pain of knowing.]

Then it will be done.

[Ah! Maedhros earns a laugh of delight.]

I will not deny you this!

[If it takes arguing with people until he is sent to Maedhros' ship, he will make it happen.]

(In those days, Maedhros had sensed his father's worry; he had sensed Fëanor needed him. So he had been as brave as any little boy could and, with each birth, he stepped in more and more to make his parents' life easier. (Of course it helped that he adored each and every one of his brothers.)

Yet there had always been time for just him and his Atar. They understood one another and Maedhros loved him fiercely. When the jewels interfered with their lives and Fëanor began to lose his grip on reality, that early, fierce love had kept Maedhros by his side.

And his brothers had followed suit. Love tied them together for the Oath, but then that emotion - so pure and good - had become tainted with madness and pain. Maedhros had enough time to understand where it went wrong and the part he played.

Love had blinded them and they had been too naive to exercise caution. As such, no, he did not believe Fëanor was fully to blame. Thus his love - while battered - had not been taken from him. Of all the Elves in Arda and the Halls of Mandos, Fëanor needed that love the most.)

I will try to remember...who I was...in return.

(He blinks and his smile grows at the laugh.)

Do not deny Kano his fair share. (But his cheeks are pink with contentment.) We are older, but our hearts are unchanged.

[His firstborn had always been the brightest and most precious of all. More and more, the older Maedhros had grown, Fëanor could not be prouder of him. It simply wasn't possible.

He'd never forgotten that each of his sons needed time just with him, so he'd made sure to give them just that.

Perhaps that fierce love had doomed them, though he does not know it. But it remains. And Fëanor loves so fiercely and without question or doubt.]

I will help you remember.

[The grin returns, eyes sparkling.] He will not be left aside, Nelyo. He is my son just as you are. [Meaning just as loved and precious as if Maglor were firstborn, not second.]

(Love is not an emotion he regrets feeling. Perhaps it blinded him - perhaps it blinded them all - but the warmth of it seeps through his pain. Like Maglor, Fëanor - as he is now - is like a bright hearth where he can rest after a long, cold night.)

You needn't try very hard, I think. (Just seeing that smile and hearing that laughter has an effect on him.)

A more deserving son. I do not wish to imagine what he has endured. All I know is he needs our love.

[Fëanor will protect his sons to the best of his ability.

Maedhros always knew just what to say. His smile is pleased.] Then you will remember quickly.

[The smile might dim, but the stubborn light remains.]

All seven of my sons are deserving and loved. I do not know the horrors either of you have suffered, but I will not abandon you to doubt here and now. We will remind him that he is precious, loved, and not alone.

(When hearts speak to hearts, it is difficult not to find some joy. Maedhros is an open book for Fëanor. It has never occurred to him to lie.)

I am hopeful. (For the first time in... He doesn't know. Hope is a very precious thing.)

Indeed. But he has lived the longest - a solitary existence where all he had were memories. (No more. Those memories will be refreshed and added to in no time.) I wish I had not left him.

[Thus why Fëanor believes Maedhros without question. Regardless how hard the words are, he knows his firstborn does not lie to him.]

You will win yourself back. [He has faith in you Mae!]

He will not be left again.

And our Atar will keep himself. (Maedhros smiles softly, not hiding how much that pleases him.) No matter what we say of the future - no matter how harsh - it never occurred to us to push you out of our hearts.

(He lifts his chin.) I will be his shield and comfort.

How can I not, with such mighty sons? [Pride and love shine bright in his smile.] Each of you are perfect as you are.

[Fëanor's rather pleased to see that chin lift!] And I will be there with you each step of the way.

We are images of our great parents. (He feels his face warm and he cannot hold back a chuckle.)

You were always there to guide my steps.

Yes, you are. [And there's the chuckle he's been looking for. Fëanor grins at him, bright and fierce.]

As I should be.

Even as I am... I make you proud? (He tucks his hair behind one scarred ear - it is missing the tip.)

As I want you to be.

Yes. [Firm. Fëanor sees the damage, but this is still his son. No matter what has happened, even if his own actions are to blame, he loves him.]

As I am.

(There is nothing but love shining in his eyes. Some of the old Maitimo - the one who stays at Fëanor's side loyally - peeks out from all the shadows.)

I love you, Atar.

[There. That's the child he remembers.

Oh fine he'll be blunt.]

And I love you, little fire.

(His heart has not forgotten joy after all.)

What will you do without your forge?

[No, and it's good to see.

Fëanor looks at his son with fond amusement.]

I will adapt. There is new knowledge- I will find my way.

[...Just keep an eye on him, Maedhros. He can get distracted no matter what his intentions are.]

I have enough to keep me occupied too. (He lifts a gun curiously, hanging it from one finger.) I am part of Security, apparently.

[~~ooooo shiny!~~

Fëanor looks at the gun with interest.] You will do well there.

I am to be an engineer. [So many strange new words! But he does not stumble over the new term.]

From what I understand, that is a fitting position for you. (Fixing things, building new things...) I wonder if we could all be placed on the same ship?

We could name it the SS Arda.

I look forward to learning more of the technology here. [And of course improving everything.]

That would be best. [So he can keep a close eye on his sons.

...And he supposes his nephew. Finrod isn't the worst relative he could think of having here.]

Will you share your findings with us? (Genuine curiosity fuels the inquiry; not concern or fear.)

I do not know if it is possible, but I will ask Kano and Cousin Finrod for suggestions.

Always. All I make or fix I will show to you. [He's proud to show what he does!

His brow furrows.] Finrod? A third name for Findarato?

Your work fascinates me. (It always has. Little hands touched cool forge work the moment he could crawl.)

Ah yes. We have...more...Sindarin names. It is used far more frequently than Quenya.

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