A Language Deeper than Words by gaydhros  

A Language Deeper than Words

Big thank you to Corvid for the beta read/vibe check!

The dawn hours on Lake Mithrim arrive damp and chill. Grey mists dance upon the placid water, curling like pale smoke beneath the slowly-lightening sky. Though Fingon is cold, his woolen cloak doing little to warm him, Maedhros is radiating such pleasant warmth and fierceness of life he almost does not mind it.

After months of healing, Maedhros is at last regaining his strength. Not so long ago he was skeletal— as gaunt and frail as one lost to the Ice, his once-hale body reduced to little more than sharp bones poking through thin, scarred skin. While his scars have not faded, colour now has returned to him. His cheeks and nose are pink with the early morning chill, his grey eyes are bright, and he is well enough to manage daily walks along the lakeshore with Fingon, a few dawn-quiet moments stolen together before the rest of camp wakes. He will still need to relearn how to fight, but Fingon no longer fears for him as he once did. The fire of life is hot within Maedhros. He will endure, if only to prove that he can.

The course of their future has not yet been decided. The wounds of their past have not yet been exhumed. At first it was because more pressing matters demanded their attention, but now that the worst has passed, Fingon finds himself reluctant to risk this fragile peace they have carved for themselves amidst the chaos. He reasons that it is not likely to last long, anyway. He would enjoy it while he can.

And so each morning Fingon casts words aside, takes Maedhros’ left hand in his, and walks silently by his side. He sits with Maedhros upon the dew-soaked grass and watches the sun rise over the Erid Wethrin, burrowing in to leach his warmth and sliding icy fingers beneath his collar. He steals a kiss from Maedhros’ scarred mouth whenever it pleases him to do so, and then another, and another, until he hears Maedhros sigh and feels the blunt end of his right arm come up to rest against his cheek.

There will come a day when words can no longer be avoided. For now, Fingon presses close enough to feel their hearts beat as one, and he kisses Maedhros for as long as he dares, and they need no other language than this.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you for reading! I'm on tumblr at @gaydhros <3