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Entry tags:

OPEN

Who: Fingon
Broadcast: Fleetwide, accidental.
Action: SS Paisley
When: Morning on August 8th.

Fingon was still tired and moved somewhat slower, with more care, than his usual enthusiasm. He'd found a few scars for the trouble of dying, but otherwise had nothing to complain about. A day was all he was given to rest before he found himself on a new ship and a cake pushed into his hands in celebration.

Congratulations, you're a cook!

The assignment cheered the Elf. No leadership duties. He wouldn't be the one people looked to for orders here, outside the kitchen if at all. All he had to worry about was feeding everyone else on the ship. The first thing he'd done after being shown to his new room was to change out of his armor and into ship's clothing, though he kept the blue cloak and had it wrapped around him. He gave himself one more day to rest, holing himself up in his room.

Then it was off to acquaint himself with the kitchen! He hoped to bake for his crewmates. Barring that, he would do his absolute best to improve the taste of what food was offered. When he found his way to the kitchen, however, he stopped still, eyes growing wide in dismay.

"This cannot be all there is!"

Whether it was or not, Fingon took a deep breath before diving in, familiarizing himself with what the ship offered. It was slow going, and he burned himself more than once, but he stubbornly kept at it until he had a stew going on the stove and a tray of chocolate cookies baking in the oven.

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{He is frozen, his throat and chest tight with emotions he dare not speak; dare not think. And yet...

Fingon is...perfect. As always. Beautiful, sweet and...perfect.

Clearing his throat, he whispers:}

Finno?

Maitimo?

{Fingon startles, looking around for Maedhros. Then down, seeing the small familiar face on the device he'd been given, and a bright smile spreads, joyous and warm.}

Maitimo! Where are you?

{He feels his breath catch upon seeing that joy. So he isn't...angry? Does he know what befalls him? How Maedhros fails him?}

I am aboard the S.S. Bishop. I think I can come to you if...if you like?

{Shakily, he sets himself to the task, needing to see his dear cousin.}

Are you safe? You're not...hurt?

{Why would Fingon be angry? Never, not at Maedhros.}

I am on the S.S Paisley. Please come...Or I could come to you if that is easier?

{He doesn't want to put a strain on his precious cousin, Maedhros has been through enough already.

His eyes and smile dim before he shakes his head, blinking the last memories away.}

I am alive. You...?

No, stay. {He feels the same for Fingon and he quickly familiarizes himself with traversing from ship to ship.}

I will tell you in person. {If he can find the bravery to do so. Finally, he is moving, biting the inside of his cheek.}

I am on my way. {The journey is disorienting, but worthwhile. He would do anything to see Fingon again.} Fingon?

{Maedhros towers over most - that has not changed - but he looks...unwell. Definitely too thin and pale, though he will blush when he sees the other Elf.}

{Fingon's there at the shuttle bay, after a few mis-directions along the way. It's worth it when he sees Maedhros and he runs to wrap his arms around him. Unwell, thin, and pale, but his Maitimo all the same.}

Here. Come with me? We can speak in my room, or the kitchen if you are hungry. {His smile is unforced and warm, but concerned.}

(Something deep within relaxes the moment he feels Fingon in his arms. Maedhros wastes no time in pressing a welcoming kiss to the other Elf's lips.

The kiss is long overdue.)

Are you saying I'm thin too? (He smiles tiredly, drawn by that smile.) Your room would give us better privacy.

{They are stronger together. Fingon leans against the tall Elf, smiling softly up at him. The kiss is gently return, but no less welcoming.}

If you were no Elf, I would worry you have been ill. {Had he caused this? He pulls back, reaching for Maedhros' hand to lead the way to his room.} I have stew cooking.

(He exhales shakily when they part, old emotions reviving as if they had never been dormant. His Finno is warm and alive.)

Mentally, perhaps. (Their fingers are quickly entwined and Fingon's knuckles are kissed as they walk.) What do you remember?

{The kiss to hand has Fingon flush faintly, his smile still warm. He doesn't even try to keep his gaze from Maedhros for longer than it takes to make sure he doesn't get them lost, making note of all the changes. And what hasn't changed.}

Then we will get you well again.

{He's determined to make it so.

He swallows, fingers twitching in Maedhros' grasp.} Battle. Fire and - and Gothmog. {Pain and death.

He's glad to come to the ladder leading down to his room. He glances up at Maedhros.} Down here. You can manage the ladder, I know, but if you want, I can help you down?

(An arm will be wrapped protectively around Fingon's waist as they walk. Should his sweet cousin stumble, he will right him.)

You should not set yourself impossible goals. Kano needs your care more than I do.

(But Maedhros naturally worries about others without sparing a thought for himself. His expression darkens and he shakes his head sharply.)

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. (Swallowing roughly, he blinks at the ladder.) I think I can manage.

(He uses his left hand to grip and his right arm to steady himself.)

{Fingon happily leans against Maedhros, wrapping a supportive arm around him in turn. He tries not to rush, but those who know him best know he can't always quite help himself.

He glances up with a hopeful smile.} Kano is here too? I will go to him later, with cookies! {And good food. After he's seen to Maedhros.

He squeezes the taller Elf, chest tight, but releases him to let him climb down.}

You have nothing to apologize for. I was - not quite strong enough.

{Almost strong enough. But not quite. He knows that.

Maedhros will see that Fingon's room might be small, but it already has little signs of his living there. A cleaned and repaired set of familiar armor is hung carefully up, helm resting on the floor beside the boots. A spare set of hair ribbons lay coiled on the end table, beside a brush.}

(He doesn't mind moving at the pace Fingon sets. It has always been so and he likes being surrounded by the younger Elf's enthusiasm and energy.)

Yes. Atar was here too for a time. (There will be friction at that news, he knows, but he would rather Fingon heard from him than someone else.) Finno, I know no one more valiant than you.

(He kisses the top of that beloved dark head before he climbs down the ladder. Once in the room, he smiles, the expression tinged with sorrow and memory. The hair ties capture his attention and he picks up one, holding it like a treasure.)

{Maedhros spoils him! Fingon only wants his dear cousin to be happy. If being ridiculous helped, he'll do it gladly. His breath catches at the news. The smile drops off entirely and he watches Maedhros make his way down the ladder.

Uncle Fëanor had been here too.

He waits until he knows his cousin's out of the way before climbing down after. He's torn between an awful anger towards what Fëanor had done, and knowing Maedhros loves his father still.}

Was he...well?

{He walks back to his cousin, smile returning when he sees just how Maedhros holds the hair tie, and rests a hand on his cousin's arm, looking affectionately up at him.}

Sit. Your hair is a mess, love.

(He doesn't think Fingon is ever ridiculous, but he is incredibly biased. Unabashedly so!

The room is welcoming thanks to the little personal touches. He halfway wants to curl up on the bed and rest - and he doubted Fingon would object.)

He was sane. (His voice is rough with emotion.) I told him everything. He was...remorseful; he wished to return to rectify his mistakes.

(The father he had once known as a little Elfling had been back in his life...briefly. Maedhros looks up at Fingon, chuckling.)

I rely on Kano to set it to rights, but he has his own responsibilities and I fear I ask too much of him.

{Fingon always feels blessed and special when he's around Maedhros.

He'd have absolutely no objections to curling up with the other Elf! But only after he's gotten food into them both.

Some of the pain eases and his smile softens for his cousin.} I am glad you were given such a gift. I hope he succeeds.

{He leans up to steal a soft kiss.} Do you fear the same, asking it of me?

(In response to the question, Maedhros sits on the edge of the bed and turns so Fingon can easily reach his hair.)

We are married, are we not? (He will not continue to speak of Fëanor. His cousin has no reason to love his father - Fingon never knew the father Maedhros had known - and Fëanor had done some terrible, terrible deeds. However, after a soft breath, he whispers:)

He remembered his love for Kano and I.

{Fingon's cheeks flush in joy as he settles behind Maedhros on the bed, brush in hand and bends to kiss his cheek.}

I will never tire of hearing you say so.

{He sets to brushing the few tangles out, thinking. He answers after a minute, voice just as quiet.}

He was the father you deserve again, however brief a time. {Maybe he has no reason to love his uncle, but he can. For Maedhros, he can do anything.}

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