winterborn

Author: Az (Azmodan76@yahoo.co.uk)

Homepage: http://www.nad-no-ennas.net

9- AN: thank you Mel *huggles* - and sorry for this extremely late update but I have been meddeling about with bishies and creating a new lj community for the library of moria. – and I am aware that its quite the detour that Maeglin makes, but to mordor with that, otherwise the plot wouldn’t work.

Betaed by; MissWilde the elf perv

Rating: r

Disclaimer: none of these characters are mine, sad but true.

Summary: Finally Maeglin makes his way to somewhere, but it was not where he had wanted to end.. and somebody gets elf struck by the dark mysterious stranger.

Warnings: angsty issues for the weak of heart

Pairings: (over all) Amrod/Elured Maedhros/Fingon Maeglin/Maglor & Maeglin/Eöl implied


Chapter 9 - I take you where you want to go

He had not dared to waste time with sleep, or even rests; Maeglin had pushed on, making the distance from Nan Elmoth to what he believed to be the road to the hidden city. But as he had walked through endless passes and valleys he had realized he was lost. Tears of frustration came to his eyes as he continued to make his way through rocks and scarce vegetation.
Walking up to the top of a large cliff, he saw it: a stronghold. His heart leaped with joy, for he was tired, hurt and aching. An encounter with a mountain lion had left deep wounds in his back, and he silently cursed himself every time they hurt for not being more alert when the beast had attacked. But he had been too tired, too worn to see her. Now he reckoned that the wounds were infected; they had not yet closed and were still causing him discomfort, and his increasingly worsening eyesight told him he might be running a slight fever.

Almost falling off the large cliff, he rolled down to the path under him which led to the stronghold. Scraping his elbows and knees, he got up and dragged himself to the large doors leading inside into the safe haven.

“Stay still!” a voice barked.

Maeglin looked up, but only saw the outline of a person with his back against the sun. “I am Maeglin,” he whispered.

“Sure, and I am Sildin,” the guard said pushing the dark elf with his foot.

Maeglin fell over, wincing as he had to push himself up again on his bruised hands. “Will you at least tell me where I am?” he whispered.

“This is Himring,” the guard said, “stronghold of the high king. What is your business here?”

“The king...” Maeglin breathed, “I mean no harm…please…I am hurt and hungry…”

The guard turned to another guard. “Go and fetch Lord Caranthir.” The other elf hurried off, leaving Maeglin with the guard pointing a spear in his face. “Where did you come from? And why did you come here?” he barked.

“Nan Elmoth,” Maeglin said, “Doriath.” Pushing himself to a sitting position he looked up at the guard. “I got lost.”

The guard narrowed his eyes. “You do realize it sounds highly suspicious, don’t you? No one could make it alone from Doriath to the pass of Himring.”

“I did have a horse at first,” Maeglin stated in childish defence.

The guard rolled his eyes and looked over his shoulder as Caranthir emerged. “My lord Caranthir,” he whispered, and bowed.

“Stranger,” Caranthir said, “I am Caranthir, the king’s brother; pray tell from where do you hail?”

“Nan Elmoth,” Maeglin whispered once more, “Yet I was merely born there, I hail to no one.”

“No one?” Caranthir said.

Maeglin lowered his gaze. “No, my lord.”

“Are you hurt, stranger?” Caranthir said.

“Yes my lord, I think I might be badly hurt, I implore you to help me…” the black-haired elf whispered.

“Those scratches? What kind of an elf are you?”

“No…my back…” Maeglin said weakly. Caranthir gestured to the guard to go and lift up the elf’s tunic.

Upon seeing the deep, badly infected wounds on Maeglin’s back, Caranthir paled. “By Eru!” he gasped, “you might be suspicious, but you are in great need of help, young Maeglin.” He turned to the guards. “Carry him into the healers’ house,” he barked. “I shall inform my brother.”

He turned and left in haste, as the guards picked up Maeglin and carried him off, less than careful.
_______________________________

Days passed eventless for Maeglin in the healers’ house, but gradually he felt the strength return to his body. Only seeing the same two elves who were apparently the healers, he was lulled into a boring routine. They wouldn’t tell him their names or answer any of his questions to begin with. They only asked him the necessary, and examined his body. Then one day the elf he had met upon his arrival suddenly appeared in the doorframe, another red-haired elf behind him. It was easy for the darkelf to see they were royalty; their clothes were richly decorated and they carried themselves with an arrogant air.

“Stranger!” The dark-haired elf said.

“My lord Caranthir” Maeglin mumbled and slowly sat up.

“This is my brother Lord Amras,” he said gesturing towards the younger elf who stepped forth.

“My lord Amras,” Maeglin said, and swung his legs out over the edge of the mattress to greet the brothers.

“Nay, stay,” Caranthir said, “a servant will bring you some clothes, and then Amras is to take you to our elder brother, who is the king’s most trusted advisor.” The dark-haired elf narrowed his eyes and looked upon Maeglin; “I would advise you to be respectful” he whispered dangerously.

Maeglin swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, my lord Caranthir.”

“So be it.” Caranthir patted his brother on the shoulder. “I will see you later, brother,” he whispered, and left the room.

They waited in silence until the servant had come with the clothes, laid them on the bed, bowed to Amras and left the chamber. Maeglin stood up and walked over to the pile of clothes. His legs were giving him trouble, and he could feel that it had been a long time since he had used them. Suddenly he halted, and blushed. Amras sensed his nervousness and turned his back to the dark elf. Maeglin smiled in gratitude and stripped in order to dress himself. And after struggling somewhat with the leggings he softly whispered, “I am done, my lord Amras.”

Amras turned and looked at the elf. He looked like a real elf now, not like the maltreated shadow he had seen lying in this bed just days ago. “Follow me,” he said and left the room, looking over his shoulder to make sure that Maeglin was following.

The little darkelf was absolutely amazed as they walked though large halls and dark corridors; he had never seen anything this big in his life. “Excuse me lord Amras,” he said, “but do you really live here?”

“Yes.” Amras said simply, killing the conversation right there.

Maeglin just kept his questions to himself and followed the red haired elf to a large wooden door, which Amras opened. “Brother?” he called.

“Out here,” Maglor called back, sitting on his balcony, looking out over the garden.

Amras walked out there and Maeglin followed. “Brother, I bring you the stray elf,” he said, stepping away and letting Maglor look upon the black-haired youth.

“Thank you Amras,” Maglor said and smiled at his younger brother, “you can leave now.”

“Yes,” Amras said and bowed slightly, leaving the balcony.
The second he heard the door being closed to the corridor, Maglor smiled at Maeglin. “Sit,” he said.

“My lord,” Maeglin whispered and hurried to sit.

Maglor wished he could see the face beneath the drape of raven tresses that fell down in front the elf’s features. “Would you look at me?”

Maeglin looked up at the older elf, brushing his hair out of his face.

The son of Fëanor found his breath caught in his throat, looking upon this little piece of perfection, but he was trained to be diplomatic, and kept his façade. “What is your name, little one?”

“I am Maeglin, son of Adrehel,” he whispered, wringing his hands in his lap. “Are you Maedhros?” he asked with a blush. “My lord” he added.

“No, child,” Maglor laughed. “I am Maglor, the high king’s younger brother, and advisor.”

Maeglin’s mouth formed an ‘O’ but no sound came.

“Pray tell Maeglin son of Adrehel, what brings you to Himring?” Maglor said, taking a sip of his tea, looking at the young elf as if he were trying to imprint every little piece of him.

“I ran,” Maeglin whispered. “I searched for my sister’s brother and his hidden city, but I failed to find it, my lord.”

“You are a very brave elf, if that is the truth,” Maglor said, putting the cup down on the table again. “Do you realise what the odds were for you to even make it here?”

“No, my lord” Maeglin said with a weak blush.

“Zero” Maglor said. “It’s a long and very dangerous journey, and not even my brothers who are trained, brave warriors would take that trip alone.”

“Oh” Maeglin murmured, “I didn’t know that…”

“For what it is worth, I believe you are who you claim to be,” Maglor said. “My cousin married a dark elf and had a child; I do not know if it was a boy or a girl, or the name, so I cannot say you are not he.”

“She didn’t marry him,” Maeglin spat hotly, only to regret it seconds later when he saw Maglor frown, and he lowered his voice. “Forgive me, but she did not marry him, my lord.”

“I only know what rumour tells me,” Maglor said and raised a brow, smiling at the youth. Oh he was beautiful indeed, and even more with that pretty blush to his cheeks. He had to convince himself not to reach out and touch that skin that looked so soft, and the hair, it was the reason to compose an ode in itself, he mused. Like liquid night. But he was shaken from his day dreaming when he heard Maeglin’s voice.

“My lord?”


“Oh yes,” Maglor said “well in the high king’s absence I have decided, you are from now on our guest; any child of our cousin is always welcome here.” In reality he just didn’t want to see the beautiful elf gone, he couldn’t care less if he was who he claimed to be. He just wanted him close. But upon seeing the elf’s baffled expression Maglor continued. “A servant is to bring you to your guest rooms,” he told the confused beauty with a friendly smile.

“I...Th-thank you my lord” he whispered and smiled nervously at the elder elf.

“Sadly your mother’s other brother has just returned home from a visit here. But I need to send him some letters; you can add one if you please.”

“But I know not what to write, my lord,” Maeglin said softly, smiling nervously.

“Oh, but he knew of your existence, little Maeglin, and he has been searching for his sister for years, so he would be thrilled to learn of news,” Maglor said taking the last sip of his tea and putting down the cup a final time.

“I shall write him, my lord,” Maeglin said, not able to look into the large searching eyes of the elven lord.

___________________________

Later that night Maglor came to his brother’s study to find Maedhros slumped over a large map with a bottle of potent wine in his hand, trying to pour some in a glass, missing and spilling it on the map. “Oops,” he said to himself.

“Brother?” Maglor said in a hushed voice as he walked over to the desk. Taking the bottle from Maedhros he poured the red liquid into the glass; his elder brother looked up, and smiled. “Thanks,” he murmured and tried to compose himself, taking the glass. “Can’t sleep?” he said.

“No,” Maglor said and smiled. “Adrehel’s son is here,” he said blushing slightly.

“Oh I see,” Maedhros chuckled and coughed, “send him to Fingon then, he would wish for his nephew to join his household.”

“Not yet,” Maglor said and took the glass out of Maedhros’ hand, emptying it himself. “I will send the news to him first; he might be busy.” Maglor choose his words carefully, since he had actually heard from another messenger that Fingon had found himself a bride. But no matter what his brother would say, he knew his heart, and he would not like to be the one to deal such a deathblow.

“Busy!” Maedhros spat and snatched the glass back filling it with more success this time.

“Maitimo? Will you write him a letter also?” Maglor said kneeling at Maedhros’ side, “you really should…”

“No,” the high king said, his voice dripping with venom, “and don’t address this matter again.”

“I take it you heard the rumour then…” Maglor said softly, placing his hand on his brother’s wooden one.

“Silence!” Maedhros yelled, “I said do not address this matter again!”

“I think you are in the wrong, Maitimo,” Maglor whispered, “but if it makes you happy, I shall not speak his name ever again.”

“Thank you, brother,” the red-haired elf said more relaxed and took a deep breath. “So tell me, what is it about this elf of yours, why are you so keen on him staying?”

Completely taken off guard, he cursed that his brother knew him too well. “I…I...” he mumbled and looked down at his hand resting on Maedhros’ prostheses.

“You are transparent, brother mine…” he said softly, and gently ran a hand over Maglor’s hair.

The black-haired brother smiled. “He is beautiful,” he whispered and slowly looked up at his brother, “just you wait and see.”

“Can it be? Did my icicle of a brother get struck after all?” he teased.

Maglor just blushed. “Keep this a secret, please?” he pleaded.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you.” Maglor said as he stood up. “Come, you should go to bed.”

“It’s no use,” Maedhros whined, “I cannot sleep.”

“Oh no? With all that wine in your head, I am sure you will pass out before you hit the mattress,” Maglor said, pulling his drunken brother to his feet.

“Will you stay with me?” Maedhros said looking at his brother with a hidden plea.

“Yes,” Maglor answered with a smile, “but let us just get there first…” He started pulling the drunken elf down the corridor and towards his bedroom. Once inside he guided his brother to the bed and sure enough Maedhros was asleep before Maglor pulled the blanket over him. He kneeled down and gently opened the clasps and pulled off the wooden hand, placing it on the bedside. “Sleep tight,” he whispered and lay down on the other side of his brother on top of the blanket, wrapping an arm around Maedhros. Then he too drifted off to sleep, with sweet dreams filled with liquid darkness.

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tbc