Marry Me by Susana_R  

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Chapter 1

Quote:

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds . . . – William Shakespeare

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As soon as Fingon finished checking on the welfare of the archers under his command, he stalked off to confront Maedhros.

He found his erstwhile best friend and lover conversing with Elrond, Earendil, and sundry other warriors from Earendil's extraordinary crew of monster fighters. 

Fingon walked right up to Maedhros and shoved him hard in the chest with both hands as he demanded, "What the hell were you thinking, my Bright Flame?”

Maedhros was startled enough by this unexpected assault that he actually took a step backward. Earendil and Elrond quickly moved to steady him. 

Finrod and Rog moved just as swiftly. They grabbed Fingon by either shoulder, as if to hold him back.

"I'm not going to hurt Maedhros!" exclaimed the indignant Fingon. "I'm just upset that he volunteered himself as an appetizer for that caterpillar-octopus-horror monster!"

"That was an ugly one," remarked the garrulous Ecthelion of the Fountain. 

"Yes, it was," agreed Young Ecthelion, who was a grandson of Elurin. "But I'm not sure that it could have eaten Maedhros. Not successfully, I mean. Its mouth was rather small in relation to the rest of it." 

"So were its wings," put in Beleg, "and those worked just fine." 

"I think it could have eaten him if it had really wanted to," theorized Thranduil, who sounded intrigued by this hypothetical. "Caterpillars have mandibles. It could have at least mauled him."

Fingon felt it best to interrupt before Thranduil could share any more horrifying facts about caterpillars. He complained, "Whether eaten, mauled, or squeezed to death, I was afraid that Maedhros would get hurt!" 

Earendil observed to Maedhros, “Fingon was not the only one to have been distressed by that possibility, Brother.”

The seagull on Earendil’s shoulder squawked her agreement. A quiet susurration of similar statements of concern proved that Maedhros had friends here. 

“I do apologize,” said Maedhros. But he didn’t sound as if he meant it. 

Glorfindel reprimanded, “As well you should. You scared Elrond with that stupid stunt.”  

At hearing this, Maedhros did appear genuinely repentant. He exchanged a soft look with Elrond.

The famous peredhel healer murmured, “Do as I say, eh, Other-father?"  

Maedhros greeted this apparent inside joke with a wry, affectionate smile.

Fingon cleared his throat, “You never gave me an answer, Maedhros. What the hell were you thinking?”  

Maedhros replied with cool courtesy, “If there was a better way to handle the situation, I couldn't think of it. Nonetheless, I apologize for having offended you, Prince Fingon.”

Fingon retorted heatedly, “I don't want your apology. I want you to be more damn careful! Were you trying to get yourself killed in a particularly horrible way?”

“Better for me to take that risk than any of you,” Maedhros replied, still perfectly composed. 

“Yes, because you're a self-sacrificing asshole!” accused Fingon.

Maedhros serenely corrected, “No, your Highness. It was fitting for me to accept that risk because I am the Chief Kinslayer.”  

Fingon stared back at him, appalled. He asked, "What, so you think that your life is worth less than the life of anyone else here?”

“If you will,” Maedhros allowed easily.

“Fuck that,” rejected Fingon.  

Maedhros raised an eyebrow, “I apologize again for offending you, Prince Fingon. Now I pray that you will be so kind as to excuse me. I believe that Earendil desired my assistance with something.”  

"I do not excuse you,” refused Fingon. He wanted Maedhros to stay right here while Fingon finished processing a series of revelations.  

The first of which was that, Kinslayings notwithstanding, Maedhros was still a good elf. One whom Fingon still loved dearly. What's more, Fingon had clearly forgiven Maedhros enough to want to make a life with him. Further, Fingon wanted that life to start as soon as possible. Preferably tonight. 

Taken all together, these revelations made clear Fingon's next course of action. And Fingon had never once in his life hesitated after he’d decided what must be done.

Eventually Maedhros prompted, "As you do not wish to excuse me, what, pray tell, might I do for your Highness?" 

Fingon’s reply was prompt and decisive, “You can marry me.”  

Maedhros practically recoiled in shock. He spluttered, “I . . . I beg your pardon?” Then he tacked on, “Your Highness.”  As Maedhros spoke, he couldn’t hide the heartache in his mist-gray eyes. 

Fingon reproached himself a thousand times for putting that pain there. He wanted to soothe and reassure his beloved. He also wanted to begin apologizing for his ten year abandonment. But he couldn't do either of those things right now, because the way Maedhros had tacked on Fingon's honorific at the end of his question meant that he was trying to put distance between them. He was attempting push Fingon away. Fingon knew from experience that it was important to be stern with Maedhros when he went stubborn like this. Even when, as now, Fingon was the one originally at fault. 

Of course, if it turned out that Maedhros wanted nothing more to do with Fingon for a sensible reason, such as that he had fallen out of love with Fingon, then Fingon would let Maedhros put as much distance between them as he wanted. It would break Fingon’s heart, but he would do it. 

However, Fingon felt it was more likely that Maedhros was trying to distance himself from Fingon right now for the same reason that he had occasionally tried to do so during the First Age. That being, because Maedhros felt strongly that he wasn't a good enough person to deserve Fingon. Fingon wasn’t going to put with such foolishness from Maedhros now anymore than he’d put up with it in the First Age.

It was with all of this in mind that Fingon elected to respond to Maedhros’ question by threatening fondly, "Call me by my title again, my Bright Flame, and you'll end up owing me a forfeit.”  

Maedhros smiled without humor as he inquired, "Captain Fingon of the Noldorin Peacekeeping Force, did you get hit on the head during that fight?"

“Nice dodge,” Fingon admired. “Use my name next time. Or you really will owe me a forfeit.”  

Maedhros took a deep breath, “Fingon. This is madness.”

“I've tried ignoring you,” began Fingon, with his heart in his throat, “It isn’t working. I still love you. I will always love you. Marry me.”  

“Your Highness . . .” began Maedhros, doing his best to resume his mantle of damnable calm.

Fingon didn’t wait for him finish before scolding affectionately, “Now you're purposely trying to piss me off. And you owe me an afternoon of your time.”  

"My time is not my own, and for good reason,” countered Maedhros. “Now, if you will please stop . . .”

Fingon interrupted, “You get two days off a week. Unless you're visiting Elrond and Maglor, or the Ambarussa, you usually spend that time immured in your dormitory reading. You owe me one afternoon. Dress for riding.”  

Maedhros sighed, “Please be reasonable, Prince Fingon.”  

“A whole day then. Even better.”  

“Fingon . . .”

“Thank you for using my name,” Fingon praised. “And I am being perfectly reasonable. I've made you a proposal. I asked you to marry me. You once pledged that you would marry me as soon as it was legal for two male elves to marry. It's been legal since the start of the Fourth Age. So. Marry me.”

“Fingon, that was before I led three Kinslayings,” Maedhros rejoined in a strained tone. “I release you from your previous proposal of marriage. I excuse you from this one as well.”

“I don't want to be excused. Marry me.”  

Maedhros pinched the bridge of his nose, the way he did when he was overwhelmed by a situation and struggling to keep his patience. 

“The courteous thing to do,” Fingon instructed solemnly, “would be to give me an answer.”  

Maedhros took another deep breath, “Fingon, you deserve the world. You certainly deserve far better than me.”  

Fingon smiled as he observed, “That doesn’t sound to me like a 'no, Fingon, I will not marry you.’ It sounds more like a 'no, Fingon, I won't marry you - yet. Why don't you ask me again once you've provided ample proof of your renewed devotion.’”

“Fingon!”

“The only thing that you can say that will make me stop being determined to marry you,” Fingon told him gravely, “is that you no longer love me. Which,” here Fingon’s voice broke, “I would not blame you for. I deserted you.”

“And for good reason!” riposted Maedhros, “I refuse to do you the unkindness of encouraging you to associate with me.”

“First,” Fingon noted hopefully, “I'm not hearing you say that you don't love me. Second, do you say that to Finrod? To your son? To your Tree-brother Earendil? That you don't want to do them ‘the unkindness of encouraging them to associate with you?’”

Before Maedhros could reply, Elrond briefly assumed a long-suffering expression. Meanwhile, several other people spoke at once.  

“Fingon, what do you think!?!” exclaimed the exasperated Finrod. “Honestly!”

“Well,” drawled Earendil, “Maedhros has certainly tried to tell us as much.” 

“Repeatedly tried,” elaborated Rog.

There were further calls of agreement from various of the assembled warriors.

Glorfindel reproved Maedhros, “Elrond finds that habit of yours worrying.”   

Maedhros seemed remorseful.   

Glorfindel continued, “And I find it damned annoying!”  

Maedhros did not look as if he cared one way or another whether Glorfindel found him annoying.

Fingon cleared his throat.

Maedhros sighed and supplied, “No, Fingon, I don't usually bother to tell them that they are doing themselves a disservice by associating with me. Not anymore. I have more or less accepted that I cannot convince them to ignore me for their own good.”

“Well, you won't be able to convince me to do so, either,” Fingon assured Maedhros.

Finrod shook his head in disbelief, “The past ten years rather argue otherwise, Fingon.”

“I know,” admitted Fingon, shame-faced. “And I will keep apologizing to Maedhros for that for a long time.”

“Fingon, there is nothing to apologize for,” excused Maedhros. “In fact, I wholeheartedly recommend that you go back to ignoring me.”

“Maedhros, do you love me or not?” Fingon demanded.

Taken aback, Maedhros stuttered, “I . . . I . . .”  

“Yes?” Fingon encouraged, growing in confidence.

Maedhros finally managed, “I would prefer not to answer.”  

Fingon smiled, much relieved, “Thank you. That is answer enough. It's the best non-answer I've ever gotten, in fact.” He added merrily, “I'll see you next Sixth Day, my Bright Flame. Early in the morning. I'll take you to breakfast before we go riding.”  

“Fingon, no,” Maedhros discouraged.  

“Alright,” said Fingon agreeably.

Maedhros relaxed.

Purposely misunderstanding what Maedhros had meant, Fingon proposed, “Seventh Day morning, then. Unless you have plans for both days next weekend?”

By this point, Maedhros was so overwhelmed that he lost his vaunted self-control and buried his face in his hands.

Fingon continued genially, “If so, I'd be willing to wait until the following weekend. It would be a sacrifice, though. You know how impatient I can be.”  

Maedhros took a few deep breaths. Then he returned his hands to his sides and replied in an immovable tone, “Whether I have plans or not is immaterial, your Highness. I have not agreed that I owe you a forfeit for any reason.”  

Fingon blinked in surprise, “You've never denied me before when I've decided that you should owe me a forfeit.”

“Fingon. Be reasonable.”  

“I'm being very reasonable, Maedhros.”  

Maedhros urged, “Think what your family and friends will say of this foolishness.”  

“Well, half of our friends have told me that I was being an asshole for ignoring you,” Fingon explained, “Quite rightfully, too. The other half can fuck right off, for all I care.”  

“Your family,” grasped Maedhros, sounding increasingly dismayed, “think what your family will say!”

“Our family,” Fingon corrected him, “We're cousins, remember?”  

“I'm dispossessed, Dear. Remember?" Maedhros returned dryly.

Fingon was thrilled to hear Maedhros call him 'dear.' 'Dearest' would have been even better. That was the endearment Maedhros had used when he was being tender. 'Dear' always meant that he was being sarcastic with Fingon. But it was still an endearment. And Maedhros had just used it in public!  

Fingon was smiling when he replied, “You're dispossessed of your princely rank, idiot. Not of your family. Or shall we ask Finrod?" Finrod was one of the friends who had been telling Fingon that he was acting like an asshole.  

Maedhros suggested blandly, “Let's ask King Turgon.”

Turgon had loathed all of Feanor's sons since the burning of the ships at Losgar. Even though that resentment had always been patently unfair, in Maedhros’ case.

“We could ask my Father,” Fingon countered.  

Maedhros conceded amicably, “As High Prince Fingolfin, too, has been wise enough to ignore me unless it is needful to do otherwise, we may certainly ask him.”  

“Great!” accepted Fingon. Turning to Fingolfin, he prompted, “Father, tell Maedhros what you think. He's always valued your opinion.” 

Fingolfin responded, “Fingon has the right to make up his own mind, Maedhros. I will respect whatever decisions he makes in respect of whom he chooses to associate with.” Fingolfin added kindly, “You will always be welcome in my home.”   

“Thank you, Atto,” said Fingon, touched. “There, my Love, you see?” he said brightly to Maedhros.

Maedhros was now staring in disbelief at both Fingon and Fingolfin. Finrod, meanwhile, had nudged Earendil out of the way and was patting Maedhros supportively on the shoulder.

When Maedhros remained speechless, Fingon assumed he had secured victory. He said to Maedhros, “I’ll see you next Sixth Day.”

Maedhros pinched the bridge of his nose again and sighed deeply, “Fingon . . .”

“Or Seventh Day,” Fingon offered generously, “You may choose.”

“Surely your duties must keep you in Tirion,” grasped Maedhros desperately.   

Fingon turned to Fingolfin once more, “Father, may I have next week off? Better yet, may I take that indefinite leave of absence you keep suggesting? I've finally found something other than work that I'd like to spend my time doing.”  

“I'm delighted to hear it, Sunbeam,” Fingolfin replied indulgently, “You can have as much time as you want. Your deputies are perfectly capable of discharging your duties on an indefinite basis.”  

Maedhros said disapprovingly, “Your royal Highnesses are both being quite unreasonable.” He sounded just like Grandfather Finwe giving a lecture. 

Fingon smiled at him, “By all means, Maedhros, keep trying to piss me off. Now you owe me all of Sixth day and half of Seventh Day, as well. With that much time, I can fly you to my mountain lodge. I built it for you as much as for me,” Fingon admitted, “Even though I wouldn't let myself realize that until just now.”  

“Your Highness,” Maedhros reproached.  

“Better and better,” relished Fingon. “I'll have you back to your dormitory by late Seventh day evening.”  

“First off, Fingon,” Maedhros scolded, “I’m not going anywhere with you. Second, I have a curfew because I'm a criminal who has been sentenced to community service.”  

“I'm aware,” acknowledged Fingon tightly. “Although it would be more accurate to say that you’re a former criminal who has volunteered for community service. Since you’d be perfectly free to live wherever you wanted other than Tol Eressea without being required to do any community service. All of Aman considers the extra centuries you spent as a houseless spirit within the Halls of Mandos to have been sufficient punishment for your crimes.” Fingon was beginning to think that Aman was quite right about that, too.   

“Your distinction is sophistic,” scoffed Maedhros.

Fingon ignored Maedhros’ criticism and continued, “I'm also aware that you've been granted special privileges for working hard. You don't have to be back to your dormitory until midnight.”   

Maedhros replied through gritted teeth, “I have elected not to take advantage of any special exceptions, as I feel that King Olwe's administrators are being overly generous with me.”   

Fingon laughed, “Yes, that sounds just like you,” he remarked fondly. “What an idiot I've been, to have forgotten what a fine person you are in my horror over the worst things you've ever done. I can never apologize enough for abandoning you. I hope that you'll forgive me someday.”  

Maedhros softened. His tone was gentle and understanding as he assured, “Fingon, there is nothing to forgive. Ignoring me is the best decision you could have made.”  

“I think we'll have to agree to disagree about that, my Love,” Fingon responded, before beseeching yet again, “Marry me.”  

Startled, Maedhros gasped, “I . . . I . . .” he spluttered, before finishing adamantly, “No, Fingon.”  

Fingon sighed, “Well, I'll change your mind eventually. I always do.”  

“Not this time,” Maedhros told him kindly, “Not when I am confident that continuing to avoid me would be the best and safest thing for you.”  

Fingon disregarded what Maedhros had just said in favor of recounting, “One of the special exceptions you've been granted is that you can live wherever you please, so long as it's within the bounds of Alqualonde. I'll rent a house. You can live with me there.”  

“Your Highness, really . . .” objected the exasperated Maedhros.  

“And now you owe me all of next weekend and Sixth day afternoon of the week after next.”  

Earendil interjected, “Ah, Uncle Fingon, my Tree-brother is engaged for both days during the weekend after next. Maedhros will be coming to Star Harbor for Elwing's birthday that weekend. But you can join us, if that's fine with her and with Maedhros.”

“Lovely, thank you,” Fingon accepted at once. “I haven't seen enough of either of you since Maedhros was reborn, because I was too busy having my head up my ass where Maedhros was concerned.”

“Prince Fingon,” Maedhros began sternly, “First, I do not agree to owe you forfeits for any reason. Secondly, I would prefer that we not associate outside of our roles as comrades on Vingilot's Extraordinary Crew.”

Fingon retorted cheerfully, “I don't agree to any of that. I'll bring you lunch on First Day.”  

“You most certainly will not!” protested Maedhros.  

“I probably shouldn't have warned you,” rued Fingon. “That was a tactical error on my part. You must be ashamed of me.”  

Maedhros softened again, “I could never be ashamed of you, my Eagle.”   

Fingon beamed, “I've missed you calling me that, my Bright Flame.”  

Maedhros sighed, “Fingon, I never deserved you. I deserve you all the less now, after my terrible crimes.”  

“You owe me another forfeit,” Fingon informed him with satisfaction.   

Maedhros indignantly refuted, “I most certainly do not.”

Fingon assumed a sententious expression, “I think you'll recall that we long ago agreed you would owe me one forfeit for every time you failed to respect my right to decide for myself what I felt, or who I felt deserved my time or my attention or my consideration.”

Maedhros sighed in defeat.

“Or are you going to go back on your word, my Love?” Fingon inquired mildly.

“I remember,” answered Maedhros, with apparent despair. “I will keep my word. I owe you one afternoon. Four hours, Fingon. No more.”  

“Five,” Fingon bargained at once.    

“Four.”  

“Maedhros.”  

“Fine,” Maedhros gave in with scant grace. “Four and a half.”  

“Four and three quarters.”  

“I . . . fine, Fingon, fine.”  

“Good. Dress for riding. I've got a mare in my stables who will be perfect for you.”  

“Fingon!”  

“Yes, my Love?” Fingon inquired innocently, “Would you prefer a stallion? Normally you consider them to be too easily distracted. But I'd be happy to accommodate your preference of mount.”   

“Fingon. I owe you one afternoon. You may make whatever plans you please, and I will go along with them,” Maedhros summed up, in a particularly quelling tone of voice.

Fortunately, Fingon had never been quelled by how difficult Maedhros could be when he felt that he was losing an argument. “Good,” Fingon replied blithely, “I'll make arrangements for us to get married on Sixth day. I'd much prefer that to going riding.”

“You know that is not what I meant, you Brat!” seethed Maedhros.

Delighted, Fingon remonstrated, “I think you'll recall . . .” He trailed off there, because he was sure that Maedhros would recall that Fingon hated the endearment ‘brat.’ So much so that Maedhros had eventually agreed to owe Fingon a forfeit for every time that word passed through his lips. No matter what Fingon had done to irritate him.  

“Fine,” Maedhros conceded flatly. “I owe you one full day. But after that, I refuse to do you the disservice of allowing you to associate with me any further.”   

Fingon laughed, “I'm interested to find out how you propose to stop me.”

“Fingon,” implored Maedhros.  

“Yes, my Love?”

With a solemn expression Maedhros offered, “If you still wish to associate with me in two hundred and ninety years, after I have completed my sentences of community service in Alqualonde and in Tol Erressea, then I will reconsider whether you are being reasonable about the matter. Until then . . .”

Since that compromise sounded terrible to Fingon, he didn’t deign to address it. Instead, he corrected, “First, your full sentence will be over in two hundred and eighty nine years, four months, two weeks, and five days.”  

Maedrhos was clearly caught off guard.   

“Yes, I've been paying attention,” said Fingon ruefully. “I haven't been able to help myself.”

“I see,” said Maedhros, looking thoughtful for the first time.   

“And that's if your sentence is never commuted,” Fingon went on heartily. “Which it likely will be in just under twenty-five years. At least according to Finrod.”   

“He is too generous,” dismissed Maedhros. “Besides, I would refuse to accept any such commutation.”  

“That won't be up to you, my Love,” Fingon instructed Maedhros gently but firmly. “And it's a good thing, too. You've never been willing to give yourself the benefit of the doubt.”  

Maedhros sighed, “I will be at your disposal whenever you wish to collect your forfeit, your . . . Highn . . .I mean, Fingon.”

“You caught yourself that time,” Fingon complimented.  

Maedhros added, “However, after I satisfy your forfeit, I would very much prefer that you not sully yourself with my company.”  

Fingon began, “Every time you say something demeaning of yourself in front of me, you are going to owe me . . .”

Elrond interjected, “I beg your pardon for interrupting, Great-Uncle Fingon." 

Addressing Maedhros, Elrond requested, "Other-father, I'd like to take a closer look at you. I did not care for how tightly that caterpillar-octopus monster looked to be squeezing you within its tentacle.”  

Fingon did not suspect Maedhros of hiding an injury, otherwise he would have called for a healer as soon as he suspected his beloved might be hurt. Maedhros had never once in his post-Angband life willingly admitted to experiencing pain or weakness. Consequently, Fingon himself had become an expert at reading the subtle but tell-tale signs of when Maedhros was hiding an injury. Ever since the end of the fight, Fingon had been carefully scrutinizing Maedhros to make sure that he wasn’t exhibiting any of those signs. So far, he wasn't. Even so, Fingon was entirely in favor of Elrond examining Maedhros. It was always better to err on the side of caution when Maedhros’ well-being was at stake.  

“As you wish, Heart-son,” Maedhros consented to Elrond’s request. “But I assure you that there is no call for concern. I am uninjured.” It seemed as if he might be relieved to have been offered a graceful escape from Fingon.  

“Yes, I've heard that before,” Elrond told his adoptive father with exasperated affection. “Humor me.”   

“Of course.”  

Fingon approved, “Good idea, Elrond. I'll accompany you. Maedhros can be a terrible patient.” Most of Maedhros’ healers had preferred for Fingon to be present on any occasion when Maedhros required their treatment.  

Elrond raised one raven brow. He instructed respectfully, “You are only welcome to join us if my Other-father wishes for you to so, Uncle Fingon.”  

“I do not,” Maedhros said quickly. Although Fingon fancied that he did look a little bit torn about that decision. 

“That's quite alright,” allowed Fingon munificently. He felt it might be best for his crusade if he were to permit Maedhros to escape him for now. “I will see you later, my Bright Flame.”   

Maedhros sighed.  

Elrond put an arm around Maedhros to guide him in the direction of the infirmary below decks. As the two of them walked away, Elrond glanced back over his shoulder. Meeting Fingon’s gaze, Elrond narrowed his eyes in a way which implied that he was skeptical of Fingon’s renewed interest in his beloved ‘Other-father.’

  

Fingon smiled approvingly back at Elrond. He was pleased by this further evidence of someone else’s affection for Maedhros. Although Fingon also made a note to prioritize winning Elrond over as soon as possible. If Fingon couldn’t swiftly convince Elrond that Maedhros letting Fingon back into his life would ultimately make Maedhros very happy, then Elrond would no doubt prove an impressive obstacle to Fingon’s new plan to win Maedhros back by courting him.

Actually, Fingon should probably put ‘winning over Earendil and Elwing’ as another item on his to-do list. They also seemed fond of Maedhros to the point where they had become protective of him. Fingon approved of this outlook, as a general rule. In fact, Elrond, Earendil, and Elwing should make excellent allies going forward in helping Fingon to keep Maedhros healthy and happy despite his lover’s very strong 'self-sacrificing asshole' tendencies.  

In Beleriand, Fingon’s best ally in keeping Maedhros happy and healthy had been Maglor. Fingon should probably go to find Maglor at his home in Elrond’s settlement and work on winning him over, as well. They’d previously gotten along quite well. But Fingon would be disappointed in Maglor if Maglor didn’t give Fingon a hard time for him having abandoned Maedhros since his Rebirth. Also, if Fingon got Maglor on his side soon, it would be all the easier to court Maedhros.

Another of Fingon’s allies in keeping Maedhros healthy and happy had been Finrod.  With any luck, Finrod would forgive Fingon for having been an asshole to Maedhros. Or at least he’d forgive him enough that he’d be willing to help Fingon win Maedhros back.

Of course, if Fingon could go back in time to a decade ago, he’d choose to be waiting for Maedhros outside the Halls of Mandos, along with Elrond and Finrod. But since he could not go back in time, Fingon consoled himself with the thought that it would be fun to court Maedhros properly. Given that the Valar had considered same-sex love a manifestation of marring until the start of this Age, he and Maedhros had never had the opportunity to do the types of things that courting couples did in public before.

Just before Maedhros and Elrond turned to go below decks, Fingon called out, “Maedhros! Just so you know, this has been the best day of my new life. Well, except for the part of it where you almost let yourself get eaten by an abomination from the Void.”

Maedhros was unable to stop himself from smiling back at Fingon.  Although he quickly regained control of his expression. Still, his tone was light-hearted when he at last replied with a wry, "You have terrible taste in men, Fingon." 

“Hey!” objected Fingon with a grin, “I’ll thank you to speak more kindly of the elf I love!”

Maedhros rolled his eyes, “Good night, Fingon.”

“I’ll see you on First Day, Maedhros!” Fingon sallied in reply.

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Chapter End Notes

This story is different than all of my other stories about Maedhros and Fingon because, in the ‘universe' wherein this story takes place, Fingon hadn’t already forgiven Maedhros for the Kinslayings before Maedhros was Reborn.

To me, it still makes more sense for Fingon to have forgiven Maedhros and be waiting for him when he is Reborn. But I was amused by the idea of Fingon going straight from ‘I never want to see you or speak to you ever again’ to ‘you should marry me right now’ in the course of just a few minutes. I like this premise of Fingon needing to win Maedhros back by courting him so much that I’ve made notes for several sequels to this story. I am not sure if I will ever end up writing any of those stories, but I will be much more likely to do so if readers let me know that they would be interested in reading sequels to this story. I have jotted down notes for: 1) the “Fingon bringing Maedhros lunch on First Day” story; 2) a Fingon taking Maedhros to his mountain lodge story; and 3) a story wherein Fingon encounters a new nemesis in the form of Maedhros’ protective pet snake, Lucky (which is short for ‘isn’t it lucky he’s not venomous anymore’).   

I have also written down notes for several different ways in which Fingon might finally convince Maedhros to accept his proposal of marriage. In addition, I have notes for a number of other conversations that might take place on Vingilot the same night as “Marry Me,” after Maedhros goes belowdecks with Elrond, two of which are together enough for me to share with others if anyone would like to read them. 

I am interested in any ideas that readers might want to share for what they’d like to see happen in any sequel(s) to this story.

End Note 1:

I would love to hear from you if you have enjoyed this story! Even just a two word ‘enjoyed this’ review always makes my day. 

If you liked my Fingon and Maedhros here, you might like them in my other stories featuring them, which so far include “Auld Acquaintance” and “Sensible Staffing,” although I have plans for others. “Auld Acquaintance” is my take on a reunion story. It is available on my account here on the SWG and it is also available on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76499686/chapters/200200491

While “Marry Me” doesn’t take place in the same continuity as my other Maedhros and Fingon stories, most of what I imagine as having happened while Maedhros was dead (and since he was Reborn) is the same, outside of Fingon avoiding him for a decade. Therefore, you may read chapters 2-6 of “Simply a Matter of Making Sensible Staffing Arrangements” if you are curious about how Earendil and Elwing came to consider Maedhros a friend and even a brother.  That story is available here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75305676/chapters/196841921

Also, you may check out my “Fanon Background for Desperate Hours AU” story if you are interested in learning more about any of 1) what Earendil means when he calls Maedhros his Tree-Brother (chapter 22); 2) the time Maedhros spent going back and forth in between the Void and the Halls of Mandos (and why he dragged his feet on accepting Namo’s offer to re-embody him) (chapter 14); 3) Maedhros’ additional reasons for the later Kinslayings (chapter 13); 4) Maedhros’ sentences of community service from the Repentant Kinslayer Commission of Tol Eressea (chapter 18); 5) why Maedhros is considered to be only 3,000 years old (chapter 24); 6) Maglor’s family (and his history during the Second Age, including as it relates to the survival of Elured and Elurin in my AU) (chapter 15); and/or 7) Maedhros and Fingon's Mind-Healers after Maedhros is Reborn in the Fourth Age (Chapter 21). Chapter 1 of my Fanon Background story is the Index, it is available  here:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/47725663/chapters/198385881 

 End Note 2: Regarding Fingon’s and Maedhros’ terms of endearment for one another: “My Bright Flame” and “my Valiant Eagle” have been their nicknames for one another since they were young elves in Valinor, long before Fingon’s rescue of Maedhros from Thangorodrim. Maedhros started calling Fingon ‘my Little Eagle’ when Fingon was a small child, because Fingon loved all birds, especially Manwe’s noble eagles. Maedhros appended ‘Valiant’ to ‘Eagle’ when Fingon was about the equivalent in age of a seven year old human child. That nickname came about after the young adult Maedhros graciously declined an offer to play with Fingon because he had too much work to do for their grandfather. Fingon then marched straight to Finwe to scold him for overworking Maedhros (much to Finwe’s bemusement and Fingolfin’s horror). Fingon started calling Maedhros ‘my Bright Flame’ on camping trips when they were young adults. ‘Bright’ is because he thought that Maedhros always knew the answers to everything, and ‘Flame’ is because Maedhros was always warm, and happy to share his body heat with Fingon. Fingon has always gotten chilled easily, even before the Grinding Ice. Maedhros’ spirit has always burned brightly, even before his torment in Angband.

When their ancient friendship evolved into a romance soon after the Glorious Battle during the First Age, Fingon began to call Maedhros ‘my Love.’ Maedhros calls Fingon ‘Dearest’ when he is being tender and ‘Dear’ when he is being sarcastic (as in, ‘Yes, Dear.’).