(Video: Open)

[castintoflames]

Who: Maedhros & YOU
Broadcast: Fleet-Wide.
Action: Open to HS Bishop/whoever comes to visit?
When: Evening.

(Frustration is bound to get the better of Maedhros. He does not come from a patient family and the ships offer new obstacles to someone who is missing a hand. Currently, his hair is damp, his pale, freckled skin rosy from a fresh wash.)

Orro, none of this was made for one my size! (He tugs on a shirt that is not exactly the right length. It reveals part of his nearly-emaciated abdomen.)

Does anyone have suggestions? I can barely care for myself in these confines. (And that is...aggravating. Very much so.)

Atar? Toron? Cousin? (This is him waving the white flag for day to day tasks. Either he is going to cut his hair or have to (embarrassingly) ask someone to help him braid it.)

Comments

[castintoflames]

(Maedhros had assumed the role of leader after Fëanor's death. He feels he did a poor job of it - or perhaps they were doomed from the start. Regardless he would have much preferred following Fëanor - no matter where he led.

Shifting to the side, he offers him a seat next to him.)

Sit with me?

[burnstoohot]

[They hadn't really been raised to lead, though each had their own responsibilities around Finwë's court. Was it any real wonder things went so bad?

Fëanor gives his son another hug before pulling away to take the offered seat. No other hesitation.]

However long you want me to.

[castintoflames]

(They tried their hardest and best until madness consumed them. Maedhros is no different from his brothers. He fights the madness every waking moment - and sometimes when he rests.

Once Fëanor is sitting, he nestles close, resting his head on his father's shoulder.)

I do not know how long.