Otornassë by vulpeculi4r  

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Otornassë

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Maglor sinks to his knees between the lifeless bodies of his brothers.

The ground has turned muddy from the pouring rain. Around the corpses, red sluggishly seeps into the dirt, mixing with the mud and water.

He stares ahead, unseeing, unblinking. Just like them, he thinks. But they are gone, the twins are gone and he is still here. They are gone and there is nothing he can do to bring them back.

He won't ever hear them laugh again. won't ever see them again. There is no room for them - any of them - in Mandos' Halls.

Silent tears roll down his face, cutting through the dried blood and grime and gore that covers him.

Behind him, Káno feels a looming presence. He does not need to turn to know who it is.

Nelyo makes no sound as he moves, but Maglor can sense his approach. A hand - the flesh and blood one, judging by the warmth of it - settles itself on Maglor's shoulder. The grip is determined but gentle, the familiar heat and weight of it grounding. The touch is almost comforting, not at all what one would expect when looking upon Maedhros.

He cuts an imposing figure, taller and broader than most Eldar, with his fiery red hair and heavy armour, that is doubtlessly as splattered with blood and guts as Maglor's own.

Armour. The thought of their armour makes Káno raise his arm from where it lays limply at his side to brush his fingers over his breastplate, where their father's sigil, his star, is engraved.

His father made all their armour, so many years ago, it feels as if a lifetime has passed since then. Feanor wanted them to have only the best.

Maedhros leads them all the way back to their horses. Both have remained unharmed, a fact Maglor is glad of. He does not think he could take the loss of his beloved steed on top of everything else.

Suddenly, a cruel thought crosses his mind. It is unfair of him to even consider it, but with all the contemplating of his own loss, he can't help it. He wonders what Maedhros is mourning more - the loss of their youngest brothers, or the loss of a Silmaril.

No, he cannot tread this path. It will lead him to resentment, to blaming Maedhros alone for their presence here, which will turn into blame for Ambarussa's death. He cannot afford to resent Maedhros; he is all Maglor has left.

His brother readies the horses while Maglor himself just stands there uselessly.

When Maedhros comes back over, leading their horses along with them, he studies Maglor with a raised brow, before nodding to himself once.

"You will ride with me," he states, leaving no room for argument. Not that Maglor wants to argue. He's happy to follow Maedhros' lead for the rest of their lives; he doesn't want to have to think about anything. Maedhros still explains further, as if he has to convince Maglor.

"You look like you're about to pass out. If you were to ride on your own, you would fall out of your saddle in a heartbeat."

If it were anyone else, Maglor would say he sounds almost pleading. It occurs to Maglor that his brother might need them to be close right now as he himself does.

He wants to smile at Maedhros, to reassure him - he should be taking care of his brother, instead of putting this all on him - but he can't quite bring himself to. Instead, he nods, and hopes it is enough.

"Good," Maedhros agrees, and ties the reigns of Maglor's horse to his own saddlehorn. Then, he turns back to Maglor expectantly.

Maglor stares up at the horse. He knows how to get into a saddle, he's done it countless times, but he can't get his limbs to move. So he just stands and stares, drenched in blood and mud, wet and chilled to the bones from the rain.

Big hands wrap around his waist. Maglor hardly has time to comprehend what is happening before he is lifted up onto the horse.

Maedhros' touch is gone a moment later. He misses it immediately, feeling cold and alone in its absence. A wounded noise escapes his throat - Maedhros cannot leave him, doesn't he know he is all that Káno has left, he needs to come back -

Nelyo swings himself up into the saddle behind Maglor. He reaches around Maglor's waist to grab the reigns, effectively caging him in.

Maglor breathes a sigh of relief. Uncaring pf the grime he'll get on himself, he leans back against his brother, letting Maedhros take the brunt of his weight. Their armour makes it a bit awkward, sharp edges digging into Maglor's flesh or getting caught in the straps and buckles of his garments, and they don't fit nearly half as naturally together as they would usually, but Maglor doesn't mind. It's worth it, the odd angle and aches. Anything to feel Maedhros close.

He turns his head to the side, so that he is resting in the juncture of Maedhros' neck and shoulder, cushioned by his crimson hair.

From there, he stares at the place where Maedhros' armour ends, where his skin is exposed again on his throat. He wonders if he could feel his pulse there.

His hands won't move, and besides, he still wears his gauntlets so Maglor doubts he could feel much. But all of a sudden, feeling Nelyo's heartbeat, making sure he's still alive, is all Maglor can think about. He focuses on this alone, allowing himself to forget everything else.

Their horse starts in a slow trot, Maglor's own walking besides them. He leans in closer to Maedhros. On the off chance his brother pushes him away, he can excuse this with the swaying of the horse. But somehow he doubts Maedhros will resist.

The only reaction he gets when his nose touches the side of Maedhros' throat is a sharp intake of breath. Maedhros' arms tighten around him briefly, but he doesn't say anything nor does he push Maglor away.

Since there is no resistance, he takes it even further. It is only to feel something, he tells himself, to ground them both, to reassure himself that his last remaining brother is still here and alive.

Deep down he knows very well that it is just a convenient excuse.

He presses his lips against Maedhros' throat. It isn't a kiss, not yet at least, it's just a touch, something he could still explain away as an accident. But he doesn't have to, since no protest comes from Maedhros. Quite the contrary; he even tilts his head slightly, so Káno has better access.

He is about to take full advantage of that, when he hears a soft whimper. It's neither coming from him nor Maedhros, and he knows he didn't imagine it when his brother stops the horses and goes stiff and rigid, ready to fight.

"Stay here," his brother orders him. He can hear the concern in his voice, so Maglor doesn't argue. Besides, it's not like he'd be much use in his current state.

Maedhros doesn't wait for his response, dismounting and drawing his sword, holding it ready to strike at his side. Maglor holds onto the reigns for dear life; he is terrified of something happening to Maedhros but his brother told him to stay here and so he does.

Maedhros disappears into a building, and Maglor holds his breath. He hears no other noise from inside, no screams, no dull thud of a lifeless body falling to the ground. That is a good sign at least. Maybe there is no one there, and it was just the wind playing a trick on them. Or maybe whoever it was managed to flee.

The longer Maedhros stays out of his sight, the more uneasy Maglor grows. He is close to trying to force his body to move, just so he can go after Maedhros, when he hears heavy footsteps approaching.

A sigh of relief escapes him; he would recognize Nelyo's footfall even amidst the chaos of battle.

But his relief is short lived. Maedhros finally rounds the corner, apparently unharmed, but behind him follows someone else.

Two figures, holding onto each other tightly, but they look so small, too small to-

Oh. Elwing's children. Maglor doesn't remember their names, but he does remember seeing them before, when someone was yelling for them to go, go hide, quickly, stay together, stay with your brother.

Brothers. Twins. Twins, like Ambarussa. It feels almost like fate. Like Maglor is given back what was taken from him. Another chance. He can turn this into another chance.

Maedhros barks an order at the boys, something about staying where they are and not trying anything. He leaves them standing next to Maglor's horse with one last sharp look, then Maedhros makes his way over to him.

"They were hiding," he whispers. Maglor has known him far too long to miss the softness in his voice, even through the tough exterior he puts on. It makes Maglor's lips quirk in an almost-smile, and he knows his brother is thinking the same thing he is. Only that Maedhros needs him to say it - they've danced this dance many times before, where Maedhros wants to keep up his stoic facade, and Maglor is gentle for the both of them.

"We cannot leave them here." His voice is rough, and it hurts in his throat to speak, but it's worth it when Maedhros gives him a small smile in response.

"No, we cannot," he agrees, giving Maglor's thigh a light pet. "We shall take them with us. There is nowhere else for them to go."

Nowhere else for the boys to go but with them. Maglor pities them even more now.

With another pet to his thigh - Maglor can almost make himself believe it's more of a caress - Maedhros leaves him sitting on their horse to stalk back over to the boys.

Under different circumstances, Maglor would chuckle at the sight, Maedhros glowering at the children - it's not as if he is intentionally trying to be intimidating, his brother simply has that effect - informing them in no uncertain terms that they are coming with them. Perhaps he should have advised him to not scowl at them, at least. It reminds him so much of before. Before everything went wrong, when all of their brothers were still here. They used to take care of them, when their parents were busy. Maedhros was always the stricter one of them, keeping their brothers in line, while Maglor never quite got the hang of enforcing rules.

It makes his heart hurt, to see Maedhros with Elwing's children now. He let's his vision blur in hopes that it will make it easier to imagine Ambarussa in the twin's place. It almost works.

The twins - Maglor really should ask for their names, referring to them as only the twins in his head is too close to the memory of this brothers - end up on Maglor's horse, Maedhros helping both of them into the saddle. Even from this distance, Maglor can tell that he is being careful and oh so gentle with the boys, just like he used to be with their own brothers.

Their brothers, who are all gone now. All he has left now is Maedhros. Grief threatens to pull him under again. Maglor cannot allow this. He can't leave Maedhros to deal with this alone. He can't abandon the twins.

They are a second chance, Maglor is coming to realise. He will not make the same mistakes again. They will not die. Not on his watch, at least. He will protect them. Like he should have protected- no. That was then, this is now. There is no use in dwelling on the past.

Maedhros gives the boys one last, stern warning about not trying anything since he'll have the reigns the entire time anyway. Then he swings himself back into his place at Maglor's back.

Their horses fall into a slow trot. It will take them days to make it back home, maybe even weeks. He is both glad and devastated by this. Their home is a safe haven for him, and Maglor wants nothing more than to curl up in his bed with Maedhros and forget about the rest of the world for a while. But at their home, the twins had their own rooms. Rooms that are still filled with their belongings, waiting for them to return. Maglor cannot bear the thought of getting rid of those things, but neither can he stand the idea of leaving them there as a constant reminder of his loss.

He doesn't realise he's started crying until Maitimo shushes him softly. Leaving the reigns wrapped around his prosthetic, he puts the other against Maglor's stomach, pulling them impossibly closer together. He can't feel the warmth of the touch or the soft circles Maedhros' thumb draws to comfort him through the metal of his cuirass, but it is nice nonetheless. The pressure there, knowing Maedhros is with him, feeling him pressed up against Maglor's back.

There are no words spoken between them, but Maglor finds they do not need to say anything to understand each other. Maitimo's presence alone is a comfort, a balm for his soul. It is nice, to know not only that someone is still here with him, but also shares in his grief. He lets himself slump back against his older brother, relying on him to keep Maglor upright.

His gaze wanders over towards the boys on his horse, studying them. One of them is glaring stubbornly ahead, the other one keeps his head turned downwards, long dark hair obscuring most of his face. Still, Maglor can make out tears shining in both their eyes.

A strange sense of kinship to the boys overcomes him. Just like him and Nelyo, they lost their family today. They only have each other now, their father having long left them behind, and their mother…Maglor does not want to think about her.

Instead, his thoughts turn to his own mother, Nerdanel, who remained in Valinor. Once upon a time he begrudged her this choice, thought she was abandoning them. But that was his father talking, he realises now. In truth, Maglor is glad she does not have to witness what her sons have become. He still misses her dearly. Now, especially. Selfishly, he wishes he could see her again.

He writes letters to her, sometimes. Letters he keeps locked away in a chest in his rooms, since there is no way to send them to her. His mother is forever out of his reach, just like the rest of his family. All are gone, except for Maedhros. Just for a moment, Maglor lets his eyes fall close and focuses only on Maedhros' scent, gently nuzzling against his throat. His brother lets out a barely audibly grunt that Maglor has learned to identify as content.

He doesn't let himself indulge for too long, though. With a sigh, he opens his eyes back up and even sits a little straighter. There will be time for this - for his grief, and the desperate need to feel Maedhros close - later. Right now, Maglor has other things that require his care and attention.

Turning towards Elwing's sons, he forces his expression into a small smile. It's the best he can do right now. Maglor hopes it will be enough to make him appear less threatening, despite his blood soaked armour and tear stained face. He thinks of what his mother would say. The scowling twin meets his gaze, looking ready to fight Maglor, so he addresses him first.

"What is your name, dear?"

 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

 

Over the course of the next few hours, Maglor locks his grief away. He focuses only on the boys - Elrond and Elros, as they had hesitantly introduced themselves - and ignores the loss that threatens to pull him under.

It is easier than it should be. He knows that later, as soon as they settle down to sleep and song and conversation are no longer there to offer distraction, the guilt of this will crush him.

But for now, at least, Káno can keep it at the edges of his mind.

Maedhros remains mostly quiet, safe for the occasional chuckle. His laughter always sounds off to other people, like there is no humour behind it, only apathetic mockery.

Maglor knows better, of course, but Elrond and Elros exchange unsure looks when they hear it for the first time.

Maglor does most of the heavy lifting in keeping the conversation alive, while simultaneously steering clear of any topics that might upset them.

He is impressed with himself, really. Just hours ago he thought he'd never laugh again, and now he is putting on a whole performance, singing funny and lighthearted songs for the kids.

But that is all it is. A performance. A performance Maglor forces himself into, because the alternative is unbearable. More than once, the twins even smile at him, reminding him why he cannot let himself wallow just yet.

Somehow he finds the strength within himself to keep this up until the sun sets, and they stop to make camp for the night. As evening falls, Maedhros scouts their surroundings while Mag,or makes a fire and lays out their sleeping rolls. They only have two, but the twins are small enough to share one.

Unbidden, the thought of sharing such close space with Maedhros crosses his mind. It would only be for warmth and comfort, of course, to know that they weren't alone, and if hands wandered or he woke up with Maedhros hard against him it would be purely accidental, and-

He shakes his head at himself, hoping to rid himself of those thoughts. It astounds him, how his mind can go from grief, to comforting children as best as he can, to filth and depravity.

Trying to rationalise this away, he reminds himself it is only natural - Maedhros is all he has left, after all, so it shouldn't be surprising that Maglor is seeking to be close to him. Yes, that is all. A brotherly desire for closeness. Never mind that he has known of this desire since before they even lost any of their brothers, and has knowingly let it fester inside of him all these years.

Káno sighs. The day has been long enough; he does not have the energy left to examine his growing feelings for Maedhros or feel properly guilty about them. He's simply tired and all Káno wants is to curls up and have his brother hold him close while telling him that all will be well.

He is tempted to simply bid the boys good night and hide away in his bedroll, but a rumbling sound makes him stop in his tracks. Elrond looks anywhere but him, his cheeks turning red as his stomach growls again.

Maglor cannot believe he has forgotten to feed his new charged. Hardly a day spent with him, and already he is letting them starve.

"You are hungry," he observes astutely. The twins both nod at him. "Alright then," he says getting back to his feet. Thankfully he manages to keep his tone light - the twins do not need to know how bad he feels about letting them go hungry. "I'm sure we'll find something edible for you two. Lets see…" Maglor trails off, taking in their surroundings. He does not particularly want to go out looking for food - it's dark and he is exhausted - so he needs a different plan.

His gaze settles on Maedhros' saddle bag. His brother always has more foresight than him. Perhaps he thought to pack provisions while Maglor was busy crying and breaking apart. Shooting a wink and a lighthearted "don't tell Nelyo" at Elrond and Elros, he makes his way over to the horses.

Just when he is about to open the bag, Maedhros clears his throat behind him. He turns around slowly and is met by a raised brow. He doesn't think his brother will truly be upset with him, but for a moment Maglor feels unsure.

"What do you think you are doing?"

His tone makes the boys flinch slightly, but Maglor picks up on the underlying humour. He lets out a breath he hadn't known he was holding in, and shrugs.

"Looking for food," he shoots back, entirely unrepentant. Maitimo only shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. Maglor basks in the attention, in the warmth of that smile being directed a him.

"Has someone not thought to bring his own provisions?"

Maglor blinks up at him, the picture of innocence. "I was confident my beloved brother would share his with me. You would not let me starve Maitimo."

He has missed this, their banter, always toeing the line of being something more. Maedhros' gaze softens.

"No, I would not."

He is no longer only teasing. Instead, there is something sombre about his tone, like he is making a promise. Káno does not know what to say in response. All he can do is stare at Maedhros, yearning for his embrace.

The strangle tension gets broken by another low rumble from Elrond's stomach. Maedhros gives him one last soft little smile - it would appear unsettling to anyone else, with the way it pulls at his scars, but to Maglor it is endearing and beloved - before he turns halfway towards the twins and holds up his hand.

He has caught rabbits for them, enough to feed not only the boys but them as well. Maglor doesn't think he can eat, but he is glad the others will have enough food.

They cook the rabbits, the twins looking away as they prepare them. Maedhros grumbles something about them needing to learn to deal with such things, for their own survival if nothing else, and Maglor argues back that, while Maedhros has a point, they do not need to do so immediately. Apparently, they spoke louder than intended. When he starts working on skinning the last of the rabbits, Elros keeps his eyes stubbornly on him, even when he cringes a few times.

Maglor does end up eating as well, at Maedhros' insistence. He catches Maglor trying to give his portion to the twins and glares at him until he sits back down.

"I am not above feeding you. Do not test me." No doubt he intends for it to be a threat, but Maglor can't help but smile slyly. He wouldn't mind that terribly, Maedhros feeding him. He adds it to his ever growing collection of fantasies about his brother.

 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

 

The twins are already sleeping when Maglor puts the fire out.

Maedhros insisted on him taking the remaining bedroll, since he plans to stay up to guard them anyway. He is too tired to argue much, even though he knows he should at least attempt to offer taking over a watch himself.

His brother sits leaned against an old oak tree, and Maglor curls up right beside him. He cannot bear to be far from him right now. Maitimo has to stay close to him, where Maglor can touch him to reassure himself he is still there.

If Maedhros minds, he doesn't let it show. Quite the opposite, actually. He indulges Maglor, adjusting his cloak to cover them both, and softly running his fingers through Maglor's hair. Maedhros brushes a few strands out of his face.

There, his hand lingers. The touch is featherlight, but Maglor's entire world narrows down to it. Maedhros meets his gaze while gently stroking his cheek.

"We will need to find water tomorrow. Somewhere for you to get cleaned up."

"Will you wash my hair for me?"

He doesn't even think before he asks, too tired to care what slips out of his mouth. Maedhros stiffens for a moment, but then his ministrations continue.

"If that is what you want."

Káno sighs happily and turns his face to nuzzle into Maitimo's hand. Tiredness must really be affecting his inhibitions, because next thing he knows, he presses a kiss against Maitimo's palm.

His brother inhales sharply. He doesn't move away. He doesn't scold Maglor. He also doesn't address it further, but he does keep his hand where it is.

"You should rest."

"I'm not sure I can sleep," he whispers, slurring his words slightly. Having Maedhros' warmth so close, with the salty taste of his skin still on Maglor's lips, is making his head spin.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Hold me?"

The words slip out before he can think better of it. But the request is innocent enough, at least. He just wants to feel Maedhros close, to feel his heart thrumming steadily in his chest.

Maedhros doesn't answer. He lifts his hand from Maglor's face. He should not have said that, and the loss of Maedhros' touch makes him regret his words immensely. He should have been satisfied, instead of always asking for more. The eternal curse of their family.

He doesn't realise he is crying until Maedhros shushes him softly, stroking his hair again. Káno sobs, the pure relief he feels at having Maedhros' touch back overwhelming.

"Forgive me, I was only getting a bit more comfortable. Come here, Káno."

Maedhros pulls him up, so that Maglor can lay his head over his brother's chest, curling up against Maedhros. His brother, in turn, wraps his arms and cloak around Maglor's back, drawing him close.

"Thank you," he whispers, tangling his fingers in Nelyo's hair. There is something else, though, that Maglor wants. He knows it is greedy to ask for more, But Maedhros is being so indulgent and agreeable, it makes him want to see how far he can push.

"Maitimo?" His voice is barely above a whisper, but Nelyo hears him and hums in response. "There is something else that would help me sleep."

"What is it, my sweet?" Nelyo is stroking his hair again. It's rare for his brother to use that endearment, and hearing it always makes his heart beat faster. He wants Nelyo to always call him that, his sweet, his brother, anything to make Maglor feel like he belongs. Like he is safe and secure and nothing can hurt him as long as his brother is there with him.

"A kiss good night."

He holds his breath, waiting for Maedhros to respond.

"A kiss," Nelyo echoes eventually, his voice not betraying any emotion. Maglor nods, bracing himself for rejection.

Maedhros' hand slips from his hair to the side of the face, gently turning Maglor's face upwards to look at him.

His brother studies him, conflict written all over his face. Finally he sighs, and leans closer, until their foreheads are resting against each other.

"Just this once, Káno," Maitimo whispers. He's close enough that Maglor feels every breath he takes hot on his skin. His mind is swirling. The closeness is intoxicating and he already knows he'll never be satisfied with just once. Still, he agrees, echoing his brother's words.

Another sigh, and then Maedhros' lips are on his. The kiss remains chaste for only a moment. Then, years and years of supressed desire overcome Maglor all at once, and he is pulling Maedhros closer, closer, closer, opening his mouth and licking across his brother's lips, begging for entrance. Maedhros relents, because he cannot deny his brother. Their teeth clink together because of the odd angle, so Maglor climbs fully into Nelyo's lap, straddling his thighs.

Eventually, as much as Maglor loathes it, they have to pull apart for air. They are both breathing heavily. Maedhros tightens his hold on him, and in response Maglor nuzzles against his face, pressing quick kisses to Nelyo's scars. For now, he is allowed this, and he will make the most of it. Perhaps it will be enough to make Maedhros want this - him - again.

In between kisses, he can't keep the confessions from spilling out of him like a flood. I love you, he whispers, I love you, you're all I have, please don't go, don't leave me, don't ever leave me.

He clings to Maedhros like he might disappear if Maglor let go, like his life depends on keeping him close. And it does, in a way. Maitimo is all he has left and he is all Maitimo has. Just for a moment, he revels in the knowledge - that Maedhros needs him just as much, that he kissed Maglor back, and that there is no one else left for Maedhros to love.

Only Maglor. Only them. And the twins now, he supposes. He will hold on to them. Maglor won't lose anyone else.

Maedhros has gone still and silent beneath him, but he never loosened his grip on Maglor. At some point, Maglor has curled up against Nelyo's chest again, tucking his face against his brother.

Maedhros leans down towards him again, burying his nose in Maglor's hair for a moment. Then, he presses a featherlight kiss to Maglor's forehead.

"Never, Káno. I'll never leave you. I promise."

Tonight, that is enough to mollify Maglor. He feels hollowed out and scattered, and as the rush of finally kissing Maedhros fades, he is left even more exhausted than before. He has the sense that they will have to talk about this, at some point. But not tonight. Tonight, Maglor is drifting off to sleep in his brother's arms while Maedhros watches over him.

Before sleep pulls him under, he thinks he hears Nelyo say something. Something that sounds a lot like I love you, too.

 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

 

 

 

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Chapter End Notes

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