Home  |  Most Recent  |  Authors  |  Titles  |  Search  |  Series  |  Podfics  |  Top Tens  |  Login  |    |  

I'll Be Yours If You'll Be Mine by NelyafinweFeanorion

Story Options:
    [Comments - 4]
    Table of Contents
    [Report This]
    Printer Chapter or Story

- Text Size + Select Chapter:  


Fingon was back on the train to Formenos, messenger bag and backpack on the seat next to him. He checked his watch. It was almost four o'clock. He had debated with himself all morning about if he should leave earlier but had eventually decided to wait until closer to closing time for the bookstore. He didn't want to hover all day-that would certainly make Maehdros more apprehensive than he already was.

He had reiterated his plan on the drive home the night before. Tyelko had opted to take Aredhel home on his own, which gave Fingon time to have Maedhros to himself. He knew the whole idea of him staying over unsettled Maedhros but he had still agreed to try it.

Fingon had texted his usual goodnight late last night but had felt a tingle of anticipation that he would get to do it in person tonight. He had been restless all morning; attending to his neglected laundry had completely failed to distract him. He had finally gone to the Rec Center and worked out-running on the treadmill to clear his mind.

Now he was on his way. His goal was to make Maedhros comfortable-he would take his lead from him. This was a vulnerable situation for him; even though he insisted that Fingon was in the more precarious position it really wasn't true. Maedhros was opening himself up to a something he obviously dreaded. Fingon would have to be careful how he approached this; if he misjudged the situation tonight he might not get a chance to try again.

It would be easy to distract Maedhros with physical intimacy but that wasn't fair, Fingon thought. How appropriate would it be to offer that when Maedhros so obviously needed distraction and would likely be desperate for a diversion, any diversion?

It wouldn't be. It would be taking advantage of his unsettled state, just as if Maedhros' judgement was clouded by alcohol; it would be an interaction driven by sheer emotion and Fingon would not do that, no matter how much his body craved that kind of contact. He just needed to focus on being supportive, encouraging and most of all aware of boundaries.

Satisfied with his logic, he collected his belongings and exited the train at the Formenos. He pulled his hat down low over his ears. It wasn't far to Beleriand Books but the wind had definitely picked up.

Maedhros looked up when he heard the door open. He had been expecting Fingon since he received the text that he was on the train. There he was- eyes bright, face reddened by the cold, that smile that went straight to Maedhros' heart. And then he was in his arms, eyes only for him.

"You're freezing!" Maedhros said, as Fingon's cold lips briefly brushed his. "You should have let me pick you up from the station."

"No way. It's a five minute walk and I needed the exercise," Fingon said, as if his run that morning had never occurred. "I'll just sit here and wait for you-don't let me interrupt what you're doing." He squeezed Maedhros' arm and then dropped his bags next to the nearest armchair, shrugging off his coat and pulling off his hat. "I've got some reading I can do." He gave Maedhros his brilliant smile. "Pretend I'm not here."

Maedhros rolled his eyes. "Easier said than done."

"I'm not here to distract you." Fingon winked and settled himself in the armchair. Maedhros groaned, shook his head and made his way back to the desk.

It didn't feel like much time had passed but then he felt a hand touch his shoulder and Maedhros settled himself on the arm of his chair, his hand sliding around Fingon's back as he leaned down. "I'm ready to close up," he said. "It's six o'clock."

Fingon closed his laptop and stowed it in his bag. He watched as Maedhros dimmed the lights and shut down the computers. They walked out together and Maedhros locked the store up for the night.

"You ok eating here in town?" Maedhros asked, as they stood hand in hand under the streetlight in front of Beleriand. "We can leave your things in my car."

"Whatever you want to do," Fingon answered cheerfully. Whatever made Maedhros comfortable-that was his only directive for the night.

Once they had stowed Fingon's belongings in the Subaru they made their way to the Thai restaurant Maedhros liked.

"So how did you spend you free day today?" Maedhros asked, after they had ordered.

"Mainly with laundry," Fingon laughed. "But I did manage to go running-not something I've had time for recently."

"It's been awhile since I've run," Maedhros said. "We've got a whole workout room at the house, thanks to Tyelko, but I haven't made the effort much lately."

"I went to the Rec Center. I'd much rather go running outside but not this time of year." Fingon gave an involuntary shiver at the thought. "You a runner then?"

"I was," Maedhros said, his voice a little brusque. "I prefer the treadmill though. When I run, that is."

It was only a momentary shift but Fingon noticed. There were times when Maedhros withdrew a little-certain topics, certain situations. Now that he knew about the nightmares Fingon wondered if it was all related. The parking quirks. His grandfather. The distant look that came over him in the middle of a conversation. The running comment just now. They seemed disparate enough topics but his response to them all was similar.

He dragged his thoughts back. It was irrelevant what he thought. Maedhros would tell him when the time was right. Fingon had no reason to pry or speculate on it. He had told himself he was going to respect Maedhros' privacy and he intended to follow through on that.

Of course he was planning on insinuating himself into the privacy of Maedhros' bedroom tonight, but that was different, wasn't it? He felt his face heat up and he was momentarily thankful Maedhros seemed preoccupied with his thoughts as well.

"Is this usually a busy time for the store?" Fingon asked, shifting to a more neutral topic of conversation. Maedhros always seemed more relaxed when he was talking about his beloved bookstore.

"It's busier from Thanksgiving to Christmas but not the intensity you would get at a chain bookstore. Used books are a bit different. People tend to buy them for themselves, not so much as gifts unless it's a first edition or a rare book." Maedhros paused and looked thoughtful. "I haven't been doing this very long-it's only my second holiday season as a bookstore owner." He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. "I did notice something last year though and it seems to be following the same pattern this year. More people come in to buy children's books this time of year. All kinds-from board books to young adult novels."

"Why do you think that is?" Fingon asked.

Maedhros' face grew more serious as he answered. "I don't have hard data to back this up-this is just an observation-but I think more people come in this time of year to buy presents for their children because they can't afford the prices for new books. Ours are often half the price or even less." He tilted his head. "I know Christmas is hard for people when money is tight. They have to make difficult choices, especially when they have kids. Kids don't know or understand about budget constraints."

"They still expect Christmas to be Christmas you mean-like all the hype on TV-even if their parents don't have the money for that."

"Exactly," Maedhros replied. "It's hard to afford the electronics or newest toys on a limited budget but books are a lower price point in general and you can buy more of them-especially used books-with less money."

"Meaning more presents under the tree," Fingon said. "I hadn't thought about it that way."

"I didn't get a lot of business last year so I had the opportunity to notice that uptick in sales," Maedhros said. "It's been a similar trend so far this year. Kids books are my number one seller right now." He gave Fingon a smile. "So I decided to run a sale on them this week."

Fingon looked puzzled. "But why would you lower your prices on your number one selling item?"

Maedhros ran his finger in circles on the table. "I know it doesn't make sense. Moryo thinks I'm an idiot. But I don't really need the money. The store does fine. Even if it didn't, I've got a comfortable amount saved and in investments." His expression hardened momentarily. "Grandfather looked out for us all and the settlement after his death did the rest." His finger continued to trace patterns on the table but his expression softened again as he resumed speaking. "I opened the store because I wanted to-I don't really need the income-it's just something I always longed to do." He looked up at Fingon. "It's worth it, if kids have a better Christmas because their parents bought them books on sale at my store. Next year I'd like to team up with some local schools and shelters and give books away for free."

Fingon really didn't need any more reasons to love Maedhros-he was well on the way to being completely in love with him already-but this likely would have tipped the balance if he wasn't already there. His chest felt tight and he reached out to interlace his fingers with Maedhros'. "I think it sounds like a lovely idea. I don't think you're crazy at all."

They were still holding hands when their meal arrived a few moments later. They turned their focus back to dinner but Fingon felt a warm glow that had nothing to do with the spicy food. He loved learning more about Maedhros-all these little facts that made up the whole of him-each part more endearing than the last.

Maedhros could get used to having someone look at him the way Fingon did. He never questioned his quirks-his parking issues, his reticence at times, his unorthodox business practices, or the reason he was here with him tonight-his nightmares. Fingon just accepted him as he was and made him feel comfortable being who he was. It was just one more thing to love about him on a list that was daily growing longer.

He had been apprehensive all day-the thought of Fingon in his room, in his bed, alternately overwhelmed him with trepidation and filled him with longing. It was an unsettling sensation and he wasn't quite sure how he was going to get through it, other than he had no intention of sleeping tonight. He wasn't going to risk letting himself fall asleep the first night Fingon tested his theory.

They were both quiet on the drive to the house, enveloped in their own thoughts and the scent of leftover Thai food.

Maglor and Tyelko were already home, sprawled in front of the television, watching a hockey game. Maedhros and Fingon situated themselves on the other sofa, the brothers greeting them and exchanging glances of their own. Maedhros had hesitantly informed them of the plan the night before, red-faced and uncharacteristically jittery as he did.

They had both come to his room, separately, later in the night-Maglor worried, apprehensive, protective. Tyelko had been worried too but had layered it in enough profane suggestions of how he and Fingon should spend their time together that he had left Maedhros laughing instead.

His brothers retreated to their rooms as soon as the game ended, Maedhros well aware how unusual that was and Fingon blissfully oblivious.

He delayed and hesitated, flipping channels, stopping at old movies and sitcoms, feigning interest until Fingon finally yawned and put his head on Maedhros' shoulder. "I'm going to fall asleep here," he said quietly, looking up at him with drowsy eyes. "And I don't want to fall asleep here. Stop avoiding it. Let's just go to bed."

So he had been that obvious. Maedhros exhaled and pulled Fingon off the couch as he stood. Fingon took a quick detour to the laundry room to retrieve his backpack and then the inevitability of the situation finally dawned on Maedhros as they climbed the stairs together, Fingon's free hand in his.

No matter. He could get through it. He was tired, yes, but too keyed up to sleep. That had been his plan all along anyway. He wasn't going to let himself fall asleep.

It was understandably awkward, Maedhros thought, changing into a t-shirt and pajama pants in his bedroom, as Fingon did the same in his bathroom. He paced near the bed as he waited. Fingon appeared, moments later, the sleepy look still on his face, clad in similar attire.

Fingon looked at the bed and then at Maedhros. "Looks like you're on the left side." He nodded and then went to the right side of the bed, sliding under the comforter and eyeing Maedhros. "Come on, Maedhros. We can do this." He reached out a hand and Maedhros slid under the sheets on the left side of the bed, heart racing.

Fingon's hand stretched across the empty space between them and grasped his. "I'm just going to be over here, ok? This is a huge bed. I've got all the space I need, all right?" He squeezed Maedhros' hand. "Turn the light off. We'll be fine, ok?"

Fingon hadn't been sure how to handle this part. He had considered snuggling up to Maedhros, he had considered making out first too, but as tense as Maedhros was it was probably better to be as minimally intrusive as possible. That was the point, right? To let Maedhros get comfortable with the idea and with him. Having someone wrapped around him, when he was already worried about inadvertent contact, probably wasn't the best idea.

He squeezed Maedhros' fingers again and slowly let go of his hand, leaning over to quickly press a kiss to Maedhros' forehead and then gently brushed a kiss to his lips as well, before withdrawing to his edge of the bed. "We've got this. Trust me. Sleep well," he whispered, turning on his side and pulling the comforter up to his ears. He concentrated on his breathing-calm and slow.

He was tired-he had been honest when he had told Maedhros he was-but the proximity of Maedhros and the whisper of his breathing so near to him was having anything but a calming effect. He breathed in and out, his eyes closed. The moments ticked by and he started to relax.

He could feel the tension radiating off Maedhros from across the bed; he yearned to reach across the space and rest his hand on his shoulder, to let him know they could do this. But he didn't dare. He knew Maedhros was awake-he suspected he was going to stay awake all night but he had allowed him to think he didn't realize that. He wasn't going to risk this nascent trust by reaching out. He knew Maedhros feared his own unconscious behavior. He trusted Fingon would protect himself, as he had assured him he would. Reaching out now, even if Maedhros was awake, wasn't the course they had determined as the safest to avoid triggering his reactions. Even though he was sure he wasn't sleeping, touching him unexpectedly would violate that trust-Maedhros had made it very clear what could happen if he was startled out of sleep. If Fingon reached out now it might affect that fragile trust Maedhros had in him.

No. He would lie here, breathing in and out, until he fell asleep. It was only the first night. They had many nights ahead to make progress. Tonight was about trust and boundaries and Fingon was going to prove himself worthy of that trust.

Maedhros switched off the light and lay rigid, staring at the ceiling. This was ridiculous, he thought. He was next to Fingon-well basically two feet of empty space away from him-and he seriously thought Maedhros would be able to sleep? The sound and scent of him was distracting enough but Maedhros inched himself closer to the edge of the bed anyway. He had no intention of sleeping but it was still better to be cautious.

His eyes kept straying to the clock. There was no way Fingon was going to get any rest tonight, with him here. He hadn't told Fingon of his intent to stay awake, knowing he would object-that it wasn't part of the plan. Maedhros staying awake would mess up the variables. But he was sure Fingon planned to stay awake-it was the only way to keep himself safe, if Maedhros had one of his nightmares tonight. It seemed neither one of them would be getting any sleep.

Maedhros didn't care about the variables. His goal was to keep Fingon safe, not follow some protocol Fingon had come up with for this experiment of his.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths. And that's when he heard it.

A snore. A very quiet snore but a snore nonetheless. He darted a glance at Fingon. It was hard to see much in the dark but Fingon was there, sprawled on his stomach, face resting on the pillow, facing in Maedhros' direction-relaxed and unmistakably completely asleep.

His mouth was partly open, resulting in the little snores, his hair falling across his forehead messily.

Maedhros didn't think he had ever seen anything quite so astonishing. Fingon was asleep. Asleep. As if he wasn't lying next to an unpredictable, violence-prone, anxious mess of a person. As if he wasn't concerned. As if he was perfectly comfortable and trusting.

Any doubts that may have lingered about Fingon, about his sincerity, about his utter trust in him, about his love for Maedhros, dissipated as he watched him sleep so peacefully next to him. Maedhros ached to reach over to brush that hair off his forehead, to lean down and kiss that mouth. But no, he couldn't do that. He would let him sleep-Fingon had trusted him enough to let his guard down and fall asleep. Maedhros would honor that trust and let him be.

He turned on his side and watched Fingon, until a part of him decided that was perhaps a bit creepy. What would Fingon think if he woke up to Maedhros staring at him like that? He shook his head and rolled onto his back again. He would stay awake, as he had planned but there was a comfort to having that sleeping form next to him.

He woke up slowly, stretching his arms and bringing his face deeper into the pillow before opening his eyes. Sunlight was filtering through the blinds.

Maedhros was on his side, silver eyes gazing at Fingon, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Hey," Fingon said, shifting closer to Maedhros. "We made it," he said as he shifted even closer. "You been awake long?"

"Long enough," He looked very tired, Fingon thought.

"Meaning since last night? You didn't sleep at all, did you?" Fingon asked.

He received a crooked smile in return. "Not really." A fingertip reached out and gently brushed Fingon's hair away from his eyes.

He moved close enough to put an arm around Maedhros' chest and buried his face in his shoulder. "It would have been fine if you had," he mumbled into his shirt.

Maedhros' arm slid around his waist, the warmth of his skin noticeable where Fingon's shirt had drifted up. "I just couldn't risk it," he whispered.

Fingon pulled his head back to look at him, a fierce expression on his face. "If I can trust you then you can trust yourself, ok?" His arm tightened around Maedhros.

"But Fingon. . ." his words were interrupted as Fingon half sat up and covered his mouth with his own.

He pulled back and gave Maedhros a frown. "No. I trust you. Do you understand that?"

"But. . ."

Fingon kissed him again, longer this time, his mouth sliding open and his tongue finding Maedhros'. He pulled back, his expression just as intense. "I can take care of myself, Maedhros. I know what to expect and what to do. Stop protecting me from yourself. Have some faith in me. I can handle this. I mean it."

"You make it sound so simple."

"It is simple. We've talked it through. You have to give us a chance to get through it. If you keep staying awake we won't be able to get this to work," Fingon objected. "You can't keep questioning yourself and berating yourself for something that hasn't even happened and that may not even happen." Fingon was glaring at him now. "We know you're going to have nightmares. Worrying about what might happen when you do is pointless. It doesn't help with anything and you know it."

His face moved closer and Maedhros' vision was filled with intense blue eyes. "I know what to do and what not to do. We will deal with what happens when or if it happens. Not in anticipation of something happening. Agreed?"

Maedhros wondered if Fingon would kiss him again if he argued once more. It was tempting to disagree for that reason alone. He couldn't help the smile that came across his face as he opened his mouth to speak again.

Fingon swooped down, his lips and tongue making their own declaration, his hands moving over Maedhros, his body pressing closer. It was distracting and Maedhros knew he was doing it on purpose. He hadn't even intended to say anything that time-he had honestly been pretending to argue this time just to get Fingon to kiss him again.

It appeared to be working to distract Fingon also, as he showed no inclination to pull back and lecture him again. Maedhros leaned into the contact, his fingers drifting under Fingon's shirt to lightly run up his back.

It seemed they both could play at the distraction game, he thought, as Fingon shivered at his touch.

They were slightly breathless by the time they pulled apart, foreheads touching, as Fingon closed his eyes briefly.

"You have anything more you want to say, Maedhros?" he asked, eyes open again and challenging.

"Quite a lot of things actually, but most are wildly inappropriate."

"Try me."

Maedhros laughed and kissed Fingon. His face grew serious when he leaned back though and he sat up. "Don't stop me this time, Fingon, please."

Fingon looked up at him expectantly. "I won't."

"I appreciate everything you are doing and saying-believe me-I do. But also believe me when I say I can't just let it go." Maedhros ran a hand through his disheveled hair and sighed. "I've had years of dealing with this my way. I can't just switch gears overnight. I'm going to worry. I'm going to be anxious about it." His forehead creased. "You want me to trust you. I do. You've done nothing to make me question that trust." The crease deepened. "I can't say the same about myself though. I do doubt myself and I have reason to. Just ask Tyelko, Maglor, even Azaghâl." His eyes were on Fingon's. "I'm willing to keep trying but you have to be willing to let me come to terms with my doubts and to take whatever precautions I need so I can keep trying, ok?"

Fingon's face was clouded over with guilt. "I'm sorry. I wasn't being fair to you. It's a lot to get through all at once. I realize that." He sat up to face Maedhros. "I'm just trying to change the circumstances but I didn't handle that well. It wasn't my intent to try to make you change."

"I know that. That's why I'm telling you this."

"But you can't go all week without sleeping, Maedhros," he said. "You can't. I won't let you do that."

"I told you I'd try. I never promised to sleep," Maedhros said.

"I realise that," Fingon said. "But you have to sleep sometime. You won't be able to function if you don't."

"I can go without sleep better than most people," Maedhros insisted.

"Still, the whole point is to get through the nightmares, if they come, with me here," Fingon said, his voice gentle. "It's to get you comfortable enough to sleep with me by your side and to let me learn how to deal with them when they come-because we know they are going to come. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. How can I show you we can handle this-that I can handle this-if you don't let yourself fall asleep?" He moved closer. "I know you can't do that right away-that's completely understandable but don't totally rule it out as a possibility." Fingon's shoulders hunched forward. "I'm looking forward to a time when I can sleep in your arms," he admitted, his eyes darting to Maedhros' as a hint of color came over his face. "And you can sleep in mine," he finished, his voice barely audible.

Maedhros closed his eyes. That was exactly what he had envisioned, that night at the hotel in Brethil. The possibility of that. And then the vision of Tyelko transitioning into Fingon had wiped it all away.

Those visions wiped all the happy images away. He wanted Fingon to be right but the chance that he wasn't would devastate him. Again. He was tired of this. Tired of the repetition of the nightmares and the aftermath that left him feeling so alone.

It was almost as if Fingon read his mind. "You don't have to do this alone, Maedhros. I'm here for you. Give me a chance to prove that we can get past this."

He wanted this. Damn it, he wanted to get through this so badly. The thought that he could actually be with someone, without the spectre of the nightmares hanging over him, was so enticing.

"It's going to be hard for me to relax, knowing what can happen," Maedhros said.

"I know. That's the next step then. Getting you to relax," Fingon answered, scooting closer to Maedhros, so they were sitting side by side, their backs resting against the headboard. He turned and dropped his head on Maedhros' shoulder, his arm around his waist. He felt Maedhros' arm circle around him and he leaned in to the embrace. "So how am I going to get you to relax?" he asked.

Maedhros brushed his lips over Fingon's forehead. "I can think of some options."

Fingon looked up at him, brows coming together as he searched for the right words. "I can think of some too but I don't want to push you to do that just because you want to avoid something else." His frown deepened. "I want that to happen because you want it to, not as a distraction."

Maedhros hadn't quite expected that but it made sense when he thought about it. Just as he did not feel comfortable increasing their intimacy if he wasn't being completely honest, Fingon seemed to feel uncomfortable progressing if it was simply meant as a diversion.

"There are other ways to relax," Maedhros said. "We've got time to figure out what works best. If you're still determined to spend your winter break working on this."

"I can't think of anything I'd rather do."

"Then I'll keep trying too," Maedhros agreed. He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe we crack open another bottle of wine tonight and see if that helps. Or something stronger."

"You do seem to loosen up quite a bit when you drink," Fingon agreed, a ghost of a smile coming over his face.

"What do you mean?" Maedhros looked confused. "I haven't had much to drink around you at all."

Fingon's smile grew wider. "No, you haven't. But you've certainly talked to me when you were pretty wasted and it was definitely illuminating."

"What?" Maedhros sat up straight and stared at Fingon. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't remember calling me from Brethil?"

"Of course I remember calling you. It was the day of the wedding. I wasn't drunk though." They had had a short conversation a few hours before the ceremony. He certainly hadn't been drinking that early in the day. He'd had one hell of a hangover from the night before anyway.

"You don't remember!" Fingon said. "I wondered if you did but you don't, do you?"

"Remember what?" Maedhros asked, a tinge of apprehension coming over him.

"You left me a voicemail the night before."

The night before? He had spent that evening in the bar with Azaghâl and the rest, drinking shots and downing beers. And then he'd gone to bed.

Oh. Oh shit. He couldn't possibly have drunk dialed Fingon.

"I could tell you were wasted," Fingon continued. "Just by your voice. And how you were talking."

Apparently drunk dialing Fingon was exactly what he had done. Shit.

Fingon found Maedhros' stunned, wide eyed look incredibly amusing and honestly quite adorable but he needed to put him out of his misery.

"Listen, you left me a long, rambling message that is likely one of the most adorable things I've ever had left on my voicemail," Fingon looked at him fondly. "I don't know how many times I've listened to it since you left it."

"You kept it?"

"Of course I kept it. You might have been rambling but it was nice rambling. Didn't you wonder why I came to see you at the bookstore that week?"

He had wondered. He hadn't expected it, after they way things had ended the week before. His eyes widened as he realized-that's when Fingon had stopped being so easily flustered around him, had been so much more confident and direct. He nodded in answer to Fingon's question, not quite sure of what to say.

"You might have been drunk but you were a lot more communicative in that state. You made it pretty clear how much you missed me. I liked hearing that. It made me realize what I was feeling wasn't one sided." He reached out and lightly touched Maedhros' forearm. "I don't know who bought you all the drinks but I'm glad they did."

"It was Az. But mostly me. I was pretty unhappy about how we'd left things," Maedhros admitted.

"So maybe some wine tonight is a good idea," Fingon said, a smirk on his face now.

Maedhros buried his face in his hands. "Now you know why I don't drink often." He shook his head and looked down, his hands returning to his lap.

Fingon scooted even closer and and brushed Maedhros' hair away from his face. "Don't be embarrassed. You have no idea how much it meant to me, hearing you say those things." He kept his fingers gently running through the strands of hair. "It's been so much better since we've started talking things out more. Don't regret it for a single minute."

Maedhros raised his eyes to Fingon's and once again what he found there was kindness and compassion. And something more. Something that made his heart beat faster. His hands found Fingon's and he interlaced their fingers tightly. "I want you to stay tonight. I want to keep trying.

"Are you going to insist on not sleeping?"

Maedhros closed his eyes and scrunched his face before answering. "No, I'll try to just let whatever happens happen. Including sleeping. Ok?" His eyes were open again and met Fingon's. "We'll work on getting me to relax or be distracted or whatever I need to do to be able to fall asleep."

"Wine will be a good start. I'll try to come up with some other ideas to keep you distracted."

"I can give you some suggestions for how to do that," Maedhros said, a smile on his face now.

"I think I can come up with some on my own," Fingon said, his smile growing.

"I may not want to sleep at all, if you go through with that."

"Damn it. Stop making my threats sound so meaningless," Fingon complained.

"Come over here and make me," Maedhros said with a grin.

Navigate: |

You must login (register) to comment.