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I'll be Yours if You'll be Mine by NelyafinweFeanorion Teen
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Shoutbox

Spiced Wine
01/16/18 11:03 am
Keep cosy, Karlmir
Karlmir Stonewain
01/15/18 11:53 pm
Snow is in tomorrow's forecast here. The storm will last through Wednesday afternoon. About 8" of snow is expected. I planned ahead and did my grocery shopping this morning.
Spiced Wine
01/15/18 10:14 pm
Not sure we’ll get it down here - I hope not! You said it, spring cannot come soon enough for me! I’m sorry you’re not well, Narya
Narya
01/15/18 09:47 pm
Has anyone got snow yet? We're having a hailstorm here, and I'm still coughing. Roll on Spring...
Spiced Wine
01/13/18 04:29 pm
This is why I hate winter, Karlmir. I don't suffer arthritis yet, but I get cold to my bones. We're expecting snow next week :/
Karlmir Stonewain
01/13/18 02:13 pm
I've just posted my latest story. Lots of cold weather here; rain, sleet and snow. My arthritis is killing me. How are you people doing?
Naledi
01/12/18 12:58 pm
Happy Friday!
Spiced Wine
01/12/18 11:12 am
Happy Friday, everyone :)
ziggy
01/10/18 10:44 pm
Alpha Ori! Happy New Year! So nice to have you back:)
Narya
01/10/18 07:18 pm
How are things, Alpha? :)
Shout Archive


The Lost Scrolls by Narya

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Table of Contents

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Chapter notes:
Maedhros/Fingon. A spooky double drabble. Rated Teen for mild m/m and canon character death.
Maedhros led an army across a field of stinking corpses.

“The men are afraid,” Fingon whispered in his ear.

“Of what?”

“Ghosts.”

“I do not believe in ghosts.”

“Dost thou not?” smiled Fingon, and vanished.

His gut froze. Findekáno…

“I am here, beloved.” A cool hand cupped his face. “Thou art dreaming.”

Maedhros opened his eyes, sweat prickling on his brow. His cousin’s black hair tickled his cheek; he reached up and buried his fingers in its roots. “Swear to me that thou art not a ghost.”

Fingon laughed and kissed his neck. Warmth blossomed from the place his lips had touched. “Art thou satisfied, Maitimo?”

“Yes. Yes.”

They wound their arms around one another and slept.

*

The next time Maedhros held his cousin, he knelt beside his broken corpse on the battlefield of the Nírnaeth Arnediad.

“Do not leave me, beloved,” he whispered, stroking the blood-clotted hair. “Haunt me if thou wilt, possess me, but do not leave me alone!”

He felt a whispered laugh in the air, a fleeting kiss on his brow. I thought that thou didst not believe in ghosts, Maitimo?

“Findekáno!”

Crows cawed. The wounded moaned.

Maedhros shook his head. “I am going mad.”
Chapter end notes:
Yes, yes, I know, in canon Maedhros retreated and wouldn't have been there at the end. In my head!canon, though, he wouldn't have left Fingon, even if he couldn't get to him or help him.
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