#and eventually mae recovers enough to leave for himring

[arofili]

Dialogue meme: “You’re trembling.” For RogxMaedhros cause I am getting so deep into that Ship I need a lifejacket💚

(This got longer than anticipated! I wanted to figure out my feelings on how they came together, and how Fingon fit into the picture, and then they were talking about names and it turned into this. I’ll probably post this as its own work on AO3, not part of the drabble comp, because I like it a lot! But that won’t be til I’m done with all of these, lol. Anyway - enjoy!)

~

24. “You’re trembling.”

Maitimo froze. Behind him, Rôg sighed. “I did not mean to startle you. Forgive me, my lord.”

“No—please don’t call me that,” he rasped. “Just...” And again he found himself unable to say it, the name he’d always called himself. Maitimo he was no longer, but Russandol was Finno’s name for him and it felt wrong to give it away even if he could no longer look Finno in the eye, and Nelyafinwë would not do at all, not for a follower of of Nolofinwë...

And there he was, shaking again. Rôg crouched in front of him, his dark eyes steady. “Can I hold your hand?” he asked.

“I...what?” Maitimo said.

“Your hand.” Rôg extended his own: rough, callused, scarred. He was missing half his ring finger past the knuckle. “I find it helps, sometimes, if someone is there to ground you.”

No one had held his hand since... He shuddered, trying not to remember, and extended his palm. Rôg’s grip was firm, and despite himself Maitimo relaxed.

“Thank you,” he whispered, glancing back up into Rôg’s eyes. This was the one nér he had managed to look in the eye for longer than a moment since he had been freed—the one nér who looked at him with understanding, not pity or fear or hate.

Rôg looked nothing like him: he was broad-shouldered, not too tall, dark of skin and hair, and his scars were from hard labor in the mines, not the torture Maitimo had been forced to endure. He was an Avar who swore himself into Nolofinwë’s service; his loyalties were not to Maitimo. But he had been to Angamando and made his way out, and he knew, he knew what the others could not, and he knew how to help.

“You...your name,” he found himself saying. He wasn’t trembling anymore; Rôg seemed to absorb his excess energy into that firm and solid body. “Is it...Avarin?”

Rôg laughed, a low rumble that woke something in Maitimo he didn’t know he still could feel. “My first name was Rōka,” he said. “Strength, in the Hwendi tongue. But when I was taken, I fought like a demon, they said, and when they broke me they named me Rôg. A bastardized name, some said. A name to make me less elvish, more like them, others said. When I escaped I kept the name. I am a demon—but I am a demon to them. They will fear me and know me by the name they gave me, know who it is that will destroy them.”

This time, Maitimo shudder was of a different kind: not of fear but of admiration. Yes, this is what he wanted to be: vengeful, strong. Like the Valcaraucar—Balrogs, in the Þindarin tongue. Fire demons. Rōka was their demon; he could be, perhaps, their fire.

“I...admire that,” he said at last. “Very much.”

“You said not to call you ‘lord.’” Rôg tilted his head. “But you did not give me a name by which to call you.”

“None of my old names fit,” he admitted. Rôg rubbed circles on his hand with his thumb, and the tension slowly eased out of him as he continued. “But Moringotto...he did not give me a new name. I do not know what to call myself anymore.”

Rôg thought for a moment. “I am not one of your loremasters in the speech of these lands, or in the ones you came from,” he said. “But perhaps you could find what you like of the names you were given, and craft them into something new. Something you choose. I hear that the other lords are changing their names, to speak better with the Sindar. You may have to change it anyway.”

“Hm,” Maitimo said. “That is a thought.” He liked the idea; perhaps he would take the Mait from his amilessë, for he liked the sound. And Russ from the name Finno gave him, because despite all else he endured his hair still blazed like russet fire. Certainly Nelya would not do, not if he went through with his plan to cede the crown to Nolofinwë; Finwë would be pointless after removing himself and his brothers from the line of succession...

He lost himself in his thoughts, happily still for the first time in days. At last, Rôg rose, and to his surprise Maitimo found himself clutching his hand, not wanting him to leave.

“Oh?” Rôg said, a sharp-toothed smile glinting at him. “Do you wish me to stay, friend?”

Friend. Yes, that was something he was happy to be called—someone’s friend, someone’s equal. Not the poor thing Findekáno dragged home from the cliffside, not the fallen prince or Kinslayer waiting to bite the hand that fed him. A friend, a companion.

“If...you would,” Maitimo (Mait-russ?) admitted. “I...you are better company than any other. And—you bring me peace. I want you here.”

It felt strange, to say those words, when he thought he never would again, and with someone who was not Finno... But Finno treated him different now, no less loving, no less kind; in fact, even more, and that was what stifled him. It was too much; perhaps later, they could rekindle what they had, but now, he needed a nér who was solid, who was strong, who was real. A nér like Rôg.

“I want you,” he whispered as Rôg knelt back down, drawing his new friend closer. “I did not think I would want again, but I do, and you are...”

“Do you want me to kiss you, my friend?” Rôg rumbled, and Maitruss (no, Maedhros, with the Þindarin words, he would soon decide) blushed. “I know how it feels to miss touch, intimacy, and yet fear it. We need not do anything else.”

We, he said, and the word was sweet on his tongue. Maedhros clung tighter to his hand and Rôg cupped his face with the other that he could not hold, and then kissed him, and oh—his lips were even sweeter.

[onthesandsofdreams]

Late Night Conversations

Pairing: Maedhros x Saelwen (OC) Rating: T Summary: “Love, did I wake you?” Shaking her head, she walked until she was standing next to Maedhros. She placed a hand on his back and began rubbing comforting circles, “No. Truth be told, I do not know what woke me. But I did not found you in the bed, and I worried.” Words: 1090 Notes: Saelwen = Wise maid. Written for @tolkienocweek Day 1: Shipping. LaCE? idontknowher.gif | I’m using Sindarin names for my sake. | Saelwen and Maedhros met when she was training as a junior diplomat in Finwë’s court, they formed a friendship and she eventually followed him to Formenos and Beleriand, they became lovers after Fingon’s rescue of Maedhros.

Read @ AO3

Saelwen woke to an empty bed.

She blinked away the sleep and sat, “Mae?” She called as she looked around the chamber. It was both silent and empty. She sighed, she already knew that Maedhros likely had a bad night, and instead of waking her up, he had chosen to retire to his office.

She tossed the covers aside, placed her feet on her slippers and grabbed her outer robe, Himring was well named, and she didn’t want to deal with the cold just yet.

She made her way to Maedhros’ office and knocked twice, she heard him calling from within. Twisting the door handle, she pushed the door and walked in. She found Maedhros standing in front of the window that was behind his desk, his back turned to her. “My love?” She called quietly.

Maedhros turned a bit, when he saw it was her, she could see him make a small frown. “Love, did I wake you?”

Shaking her head, she walked until she was standing next to Maedhros. She placed a hand on his back and began rubbing comforting circles, “No. Truth be told, I do not know what woke me. But I did not found you in the bed, and I worried.”

Maedhros looked apologetic at her admission, “My apologies,” he whispered softly. “I was struggling to sleep, and I did not want to wake you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” She told him. “Did I not tell you to wake me when you had bad dreams? If you are having a hard time, I want to be there for you, I’d be a bad partner if I weren’t.”

Maedhros looked away for a moment, he didn’t say anything immediately, and when he did, she could feel her heart wrenched. “I feel like the bad partner it is me.” He still wasn’t looking at her. “I do not think this relationship is good for you.”

Doing the best to swallow the knot in her throat, she embraced Maedhros as best she could. “Oh my love!” She sighed. “Beloved, I understand what you mean, but I love you. With everything that I am, and I want to be with you. I knew of your struggles and yet I willingly made a spot on your life. I will not leave you now.”

“I don’t deserve you. Look at me, Saelwen. I am broken.”

Closing her eyes, she did her best to prevent the tears that threatened to fall. She took a calming breath, breathing in his clean scent. Maedhros smelled of mint, it was one scent that comforted her. And she wished she had the power to make Maedhros see the depths of her love. “If I could,” she started. “I would kiss away all your scars.” She said softly. “And I do not mean just the visible ones, but the ones that burden you inside.

“And no, dearest love of mine, you are not broken. You are much too strong to be, because you are a fire onto itself, and neither Morgoth nor Sauron have that power over you. You survived what not many would have. That was a pyre onto itself, and you rose from your ashes twice as strong as you were before.

“You may have moments – like now – that you doubt your own strength,” She placed a hand over his heart and gave him a small smile. “But the heart that beats inside your chest is strong, your soul shines brighter. There is nothing in this world that could bring you down, and I say so because I know you. I believe in you and I know that you could do anything you put your mind to.”

Silence reigned for a long moment, Maedhros had tears in his eyes when she finished her speech. Some even fell, but then, Maedhros smiled and embraced her. “Thank you, beloved.” He choked out. “I do love you so. Thank you.”

“I am always here for you. Do you know that?”

“Yes.”

Her heart felt lighter now that she had spoken what was on her mind, hopefully now Maedhros would not hesitate to come to her. “Mae, promise me something?”

Maedhros arched a brow, “What?”

“That if you ever have any doubts about us, you’ll talk to me.”

“I do not have any doubts about us,” Maedhros admitted quietly. “I am simply unsure that I could be a good match for you.”

“A good match is someone who loves me, do you?”

“With all my heart and soul.”

“Then we are a good match. I love you, I take you as you are and nothing will keep me from your side. That is my promise to you.”

Maedhros eyes filled with tears once more, and he squeezed her, bending down to rest his head atop hers, “Sael, my love, you have no idea how much comfort and relief your words give me. You always know what to say to soothe my worries. And I love you so much, that despite my doubts, I find myself unable to let you go. I am greedy for you.”

“And I for you,” She admitted. “There’s nothing like me, resting my head above your heart and hear it beating, it is the best lullaby that I could dream of. I don’t want to let you go.”

To her surprise, Maedhros stood tall and for a moment, he looked the Prince he had once been in Valinor. And her heart skipped a beat at the radiant smile he gave her. “Let us be selfish and irresponsible then,” he said.

She arched a brow, silently waiting for him to finish his thoughts.

“Let’s get married.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. But when she recovered enough, she smiled and she squeezed Maedhros as best she could. Then pulled him downwards so she could kiss him. “That,” kiss, “is,” kiss, “a terrible,” kiss, “idea.” She gave him a longer kiss, then she pulled back and smiled at him. “Let’s do it.”

Maedhros beamed at her, all the shadows that had haunted him, went away, replaced with joy and love in his eyes. “We’re getting married.”

“We’re getting married.” She repeated smiling. “Why don’t we celebrate somewhere more private?”

Maedhros arched a brow, but then chuckled and nodded. “Let us go to bed, I find that I can be there now.”

She took his hand in hers, and began pulling him back to the chamber they shared. “Come now, bed is calling.”

“Lead on, my love, lead on.”