Silmarillion Request Book [REQUESTS CLOSED]

Healing: Maedhros and Fingon (Part 2)

Note: the 'þ' in 'Aþyare' is pronounced 'th', like in þerinde.

I had a lot of fun and pain writing this, so I hope you enjoyed! 

Valar, there was so much blood.

What did I just do? Finno dimly wondered as he held Maedhros upright while Thorondor flew them both towards the Noldorin camp that was a distant speck on the plain. Valar, I cut off his hand, I–

Maedhros shifted in Finno's arms, making some unintelligible noise. Finno wrapped him tighter in his cloak, careful of his bandaged arm. Valar, what have I done?

---

A Nelda standing on guard saw them first.

Murmuring rippled through the camp, and heads turned to the sky. A dark blob blotted out the sun, too far for even keen elven eyes to make out.

As they got closer, the elves below could see a smudge of brown, blue, and red.

Shouts broke out. "It's an eagle!"

"It's Findekáno and his cousin!"

"He escaped from Angband!"

Banners rippled as Thorondor landed on an empty stretch of land, in the middle of the Noldorin campsite. People ran up to him, talking excitedly.

Fingon slid from Thorondor's back with a quick 'thank you' and shouted to the soldiers. "Someone help!"

They immediately sprang into action, helping Finno carry an unconscious Maedhros. Whispers were exchanged when they beheld Maedhros in that terrible state, face pale and bloodless, skin ashen, once flaming hair now a dull russet. The bandages on his right arm were soaked with blood.

A healer stood at the entrance of a large tent, wringing her hands. Finno brought Maedhros in, gently setting him down on the fluffy bed.

"Get messengers to Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, and Amras please," Finno told a soldier. He nodded and ran off.

The healer shooed out everyone else except for Fingon. She gently removed the cloak Finno had wrapped around Maedhros and gasped. Maedhros's pale skin was slashed with brutal scars and burns, some only half-healed.

"Mairon–" Finno swallowed, before gesturing to Maedhros. "For I don't know how long..."

The healer nodded wordlessly and covered him in a blanket, gently setting his right arm on top. "I suggest you leave him for a moment, my Lord. I suspect this will get quite... messy."

"Just Fingon, please. Call me Fingon. And I'll stay."

She bowed her head. "As you wish, my L– uh, Fingon." She gave a wan smile and began unwrapping the stained bandages. "What happened here?"

Finno sat down in a chair next to the bed and squeezed his eyes close, clearing his throat before telling the story.

The healer worked on Maedhros's arm, hands flying. Within a few minutes, she had applied healing salve and rebandaged it, far better than Finno's handiwork.

"So now we're here," Finno finished.

She nodded absently, gathering up supplies. "I see, Lord Fingon."

"Just Fingon, please." He looked at her curiously. "What is your name? Forgive me for not asking."

"It's Aþyare, Fingon." She tucked a loose strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. "I'll work on the other wounds now."