driftfleet | (Open)

Who: Maedhros & Open
Broadcast: Marsiva
Action: On the Marsiva.
When: Evening

(A voice, beginning softly and then rising in volume, can be heard aboard the Marsiva this eve. Technology brings it to others - the ship is large - not that the singer entirely notices. A bright tumble of fiery hair obscures the picture momentarily before a certain tall Elf steps back. Yet the singing continues and Maedhros's eyes are distant, lost in memory.

The notes reach pitches that are almost keening, but the melody always softens, always returns to a pleasant level. Until the end, that is. The keening returns, then, and the Elf shows his prowess with song - something he will deny until death and beyond - by singing notes that are quick and passionate like flames. His eyes reflect despair and grief before assuming a look of grim determination.

But every song must end and his cannot carry on. He absently brushes back his hair - which is loose from all braids - and finishes securing his prosthetic arm in place.)

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{A gentle smile shines and Fingon rests his cheek on Maedhros' head, fingers moving effortlessly over delicate strings. He hums along, keeping his voice quiet to let his cousin's song soar.}

(The song gentles, taking on the quality of a lullaby. There is love behind it; a fractured love that has rarely seen the light of day. But it was - and is - felt nonetheless, though it is no longer a love of innocence and clarity; it has become darkened by grief and fear. Maedhros's voice rumbles to reflect that, but it only makes him press closer to Fingon's side.)

{Fingon's accompaniment only pauses while he presses a fond little kiss to Maedhros' forehead. He accepts the darkened love and offers his own. Fierce and unwavering, he's always cared deeply for his vibrant older cousin!}

(Burning tears answer the kiss and Maedhros's voice is no longer steady. He cannot explain what his cousin's death did to him in simple words, but a song...

The sound trembles and swells with a grief so sharp it can surely pierce better than any sword.)

{A shudder and Fingon's eyes close at the grief. He stills the strings and carefully sets his harp down before wrapping Maedhros into a tight embrace.}

I am so sorry!

(Soft and warm... Maedhros sags into the hold, unable to resist it. He loves and it is a stubborn, never-ending emotion.)

I was too late.

{Fingon nuzzles his nose against Maedhros' neck, fingers reaching to thread through red hair.}

You were betrayed.

(Every place they touch tingles and feels...alive. Real. With Fingon, reality isn't misery or pain.)

They took you from me. I was never the same.

{Fingon pulls back to kiss his cheek.}

As I would have been, had I not found you. I am not complete without you, Maitimo.

(He ducks his head shyly.)

Only Kano saw...how I shattered. I screamed for days and he barely kept me from injuring myself.

{A gentle hand reaches to rest on Maedhros' cheek.}

I was grateful to Kano before, but now, I am even more so.

(His breathing hitches and he leans into the touch, eyes closing.)

He is the remarkable one. I don't mean to make him sad.

{Fingon tugs Maedhros' head down and pushes himself up to the tips of his bare toes so he can press a gentle kiss to his forehead, fingers rubbing circles over pale cheeks.}

You are remarkable too, Maitimo.

(A deep, content hum follows and Maedhros brushes their noses together affectionately.)

I am surrounded by my remarkable, heroic family. In comparison, I am dim!

(He smiles slowly.)

Not that I mind.

{Fingon grins fondly and nudges his nose against Maedhros', embracing him warmly.}

You are vibrant to me. Always have been.

That is only my hair, cousin. (He grins, wrapping Fingon up in his arms, one hand toying with his braids.)

{A laugh and Fingon snuggles into sheltering arms.}

More than just your hair!

(Maedhros pretends to look puzzled.)

What else could there be?

{Fingon grins playfully and leans up to steal a soft kiss.}

Your arms. Your face. Your voice. Should I continue?

(He presses into the kiss, humming.)

It is difficult to see my brightness when you are so radiant.

You are biased! {Not that Fingon complains!}

Terribly so and I am not bound to change. (Since he hasn't changed for...centuries? Millennia?)

I don't mind. {So fond. Fingon tugs gently on a lock of red hair before twining it around fingers.}

Is that all I get for my pining? (He grins and taps Fingon's nose with a finger.)

{A grin and wrinkled nose is the answer before Fingon leans up to kiss him, arms slipping around his neck.}

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castintoflames - 2017-07-16 05:54 (UTC) - Expand