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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[Fëanor won't rest until they've succeeded.

Then those four words are spoken and all thought leaves him. He can't hide the depth of emotion he feels. The pain. The memory.

And eventually the awareness that he had driven his firstborn to that.]

...How...do you not hate the air I breath? I drove you to that...

(He expects disgust and angry words; he expects hatred. It is no small matter to end an immortal life and Maedhros had ensured his body was burned to nothing. The fall, the heat, the pain are still with him and they make it impossible for him to accept his father's praise.)

...why? (Confusion mars his pale features.) I do not blame you for what I did. It was my choice; my decision. I chose to leave the world as you had done.

[How can he possibly be disgusted by his son when Fëanor was at fault? It's clear that Maedhros had lasted- had been so very strong!- for so long. How can he not still be proud of him? But to be met with love still... it makes him that much more determined to do his damned best to show he's worthy of this second chance. To help his sons heal.]

You should blame me. I made the Silmarils and drove you to your pain.

(Maedhros is the sort that carries love deep. He doesn't forget it or let go of it. At times, love and pain can almost become one, yet now that he sees this Fëanor again, the love has returned, burning like a happy, warm fire.

No, he cannot blame this Fëanor. He won't.)

Your intentions were never foul. None of us can see what lies ahead. We can only do our best and hope our paths do not lead us to our doom.

I never fully healed from the injuries Morgoth and Sauron inflicted upon me. I carried guilt over the deaths of all my brothers and you. Kano stayed at my side even when I felt my sanity turning to ashes. He is the reason I lingered for as long as I did.

(A shaky inhale.)

We reclaimed two of the Silmaril, but after all we had done, we were no longer worthy of them. They burned us and rejected us. I...could not bear one more loss. Fire calls to us. We understand it.

I threw myself into a volcano's flames and I took one Silmaril with me.

[Just one more way Maedhros is just like Fëanor. Fëanor feels with every fiber of his being. Love. Hate. And he tends to act before thinking, though now he wants to try and reverse that. To put his sons before anything else.

He has to do better now. His sons have suffered far too much because of him.

His free hand clenches into a fist and he forces a calming breath, pushing the fire back that would have him lash out at anything.]

I started you on that path, my intentions do not matter. You should not have had to handle so much loss.

(Emotions are raw for him; they always have been. Maybe that is why he has never been able to be hard on Fëanor. He understands the fire and how easily it can rage out of control.)

I do not blame you. (No matter what his father says. No matter what others say.) I love you. I love Kano. I love Turca, Mori, Curufin, Telu and Pitya. I love Ammë. I love Finno. I love Elrond and Elros.

I have no place for hate or blame.

Edited 2016-06-17 06:13 (UTC)

[His eldest had always understood him best.

It hurts, hearing what's happened because of him. But also hearing that despite it all, his first born still adamantly loves him... It helps him to breath again. Just a little easier.]

With all that you have said, you still love me. And you say you are not worthy of praise? You are so worthy I have no words.

I do not believe I need praise for something that comes naturally to me. (He has foggy memories of being carried by Fëanor to many places. His father had shown him the world and opened his heart to him. Maedhros does not take hearts for granted.)

[Oh Maedhros.]

What comes naturally to you is worthy of pride.

...like Kano's music? (He has never truly found his talent.)

Yes. [Because Maedhros is all around talented!]

(He's not so sure! He can lead, he's fairly good with a sword (one handed!), he doesn't mind putting himself in danger for family or friends. He loves. And loves a lot.)

I accept it.

Edited 2016-06-17 07:05 (UTC)