driftfleet | (Open)

Entry tags:

(Open)

Who: Maedhros & Open (except for private part).
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Yes! On S.S. Huntress.
When: Late on the 12th.

(Private to Maglor.)

(This portion is sent as a simple text, devoid of as many emotions as he can spare his Kano.)

May I see you?

(/)

(Maedhros is sitting on his bed, his hair brushed and draped over one shoulder. He has a mechanical hand laying beside him and he is preparing to strap it to his arm. It is not often that he shows what is left of that arm - that nub, truly - and the scars are numerous even though the cut that severed it was clean.)

Atar or Curufin would have delighted in this, I think. I feel hardly worthy of it.

(A small, tired smile curls his lips as he, at last, raises his arm, new hand attached. The fingers bend, flexing and he touches them in wonder.)

My thanks to the engineers on our fleet. Your craftsmanship and your patience have left me with a much easier existence.

(OOC: If you would like your particular engineer to have been one of the ones who aided Maedhros, assume it is so!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

{Fingon grins at him, treasuring the laugh!}

We won't let you forget good thoughts again. {If that means acting ridiculous and teasing, he'll happily do it.}

Did you braid your hair yourself today?

Edited 2016-11-13 05:15 (UTC)

(He treasures Fingon's company, his expression falling slightly.)

I must have enough good thoughts for myself and Kano. He is in sore need of them.

(Color pools on his cheeks.)

I made an effort.

{Fingon nods.} He has us.

{A grin and he gives the braid a playful little tug.}

You did well! I know it has been a while since you could braid hair.

You, dear cousin, are more of a blessing to him than I am. (He flushes darker and looks away at the tugging.)

It is...clumsy work. I know it will begin to fray.

{Fingon flushes and ducks his head, then peeks up at Maedhros.} I do what I can. For both of you.

{A fond little laugh.} You are out of practice. If you want, you could practice on my hair so you can see what you're doing!

We need you far more than you need us. (He smiles a little at Fingon's laughter and his offer.) Would you mind?

I do need the practice, I fear.

You two are my dearest friends. {Answer enough for Fingon.

He smiles and moves to the bed to sit, immediately starting to unbraid his hair.}

I do not mind, Maitimo.

(Maedhros's smile grows at the answer.)

You are like a cool wind to our fire. We need you or we will burn one another even if we have no ill intentions.

(Such is the legacy of Fëanor.)

Thank you. (He sits at Fingon's side and grabs a brush, gently passing it through the dark strands.)

And you keep me warm.

{It's tempting to hate Fëanor, but in the end Fingon decides to continue to keep his fury for Morgoth and Sauron alone.

He throws a fond smile over his shoulder.}

I remember you teaching me how to braid ribbons into my hair.

I would be pleased if that was my only legacy.

(His expression softens as he separates the black curls. This is calming for him, but he is awkward as he uses his new hand to hold the strands.)

Tell me if I tug too hard.

Your hair needed ribbons. I think you should grow it as long as you are able, Finno.

It's the one I will never forget, and how you are always there for me. {With no reservations.

Fingon hums happily, drawing a knee up to rest his chin on it, comfortable.}

Your hands are gentle.

I like my hair ribbons! {They sparkle!} I like it the length it is right now. Much longer might start to cause problems.

(His lips twitch and he begins a medium sized braid, not trusting himself with one too small or too large.)

My valiant cousin, how can I not be there for you?

(He hesitates, frowning as he accidentally drops a strand.)

One...will always be gentle to you. The other, I cannot fully control.

(Despite his words, he is careful with that hand, operating the mechanical fingers by sight rather than touch.)

Mm true. But I like your hair. It's like a moonless night.

{Maedhros will get all the practice he needs, and maybe more? Fingon likes having his hair played with. He holds still, content to be patient in such a peaceful room.}

Be patient with yourself, Maitimo. Control will come with practice. I trust you won't hurt me.

{His very ears turn red!}

That is why it needs gold ribbons!

(The more, the better! Maedhros needs more comforting activities. His temper is still like fire when disturbed and his mind is not filled with the most pleasant of visions.)

Then I shall do as you say. My instinct tells me to be hard on myself and my mistakes, so I must do the opposite.

(He grins at those red ears.)

Like starlight? The gold only brings out the beauty of your moonless night, cousin. I like your darkness; it does not hold pain or misery.

{Fingon smiles and his eyes close, content and he hums.} Good.

{Oh! Now he hides his face against his knee with a laugh. But he might be glowing a little brighter.} Never, not for you or Kano.

(He tilts his head, focusing as he reaches the end of the braid, biting his lip.)

Finno, you are blinding me. (Okay that's a tease because Fingon is glowing.) Do not shoot away from me like a star!

{Fingon snickers, waiting just long enough that he knew the braid would stay in place before he turns and wraps his arms around his cousin in a tight hug.}

Then you best hold on tight!

(He finishes the braid with a knotted ribbon, smirking at the tight embrace. It is such a shame that he recalls where Fingon is ticklish...)

The Lady Varda will not wish for me to dampen your light, little star.

{Is it? Fingon buries his face against Maedhros' chest to try and keep his shrieks of laughter from bothering his cousin's neighbors, wiggling helplessly under the teasing fingers. And yes, his glow is still rather noticeable!}

Ah! Mai- {giggle} - timo! {laugh!}

(He grins and shows Fingon no mercy. Let the neighbors hear his laughter; it is a delightful sound!)

Yes? Are you saying something? (His tone is absolutely calm and composed even as his grin radiates mischief.)

{For that grin alone, Fingon would do anything. His laughter rings out, bright and joyful - utterly unrestrained!}

N- {wiggle!} -no! {He's just a boneless wigglepile!}

(And the universe is better for it! Maedhros finally relents, letting Fingon breathe, eyes sparkling.)

I thought not! I must be hearing things.

{Fingon gasps for breath, collapsing against his cousin as he tries to stop giggling quite so hard. Tears of laughter escape and he doesn't mind - just uses Maedhros tunic as a towel as he rubs his face against it.}

You're - {gasp, deep breath, then a little calmer} - going senile! {another giggle, this time fond affection shines clear with the tease.}

(He doesn't mind in the least. With all of his little brothers, he has been spit on, thrown up on, bled on and Eru knows what else! Fingon's tears are happy in origin and he cherishes them.)

I am very old, Finno. (Nope, can't keep a straight face!)

{And used as pillow, bed, and blanket, just as Fingon has been by his own siblings. He turns his head to rest his cheek on his beloved cousin's shoulder, content to stay put as his breathing gradually settles.

He grins up at Maedhros, laughter still shining in his eyes, though he's perfectly serious in his words.}

And strong and kind.

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