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Single Handedly - - Chapter 8

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Title: Single Handedly
Genre: Romance, Angst
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Maedhros/OFC
Time: First Age 346 – Fourth Age
Chapter(s): 8/?
Chapter Summary: Could he possibly bend and break the oath enough to cherish Kalin above any Silmaril?
Author: Codi Lyn (a.k.a. i_luv_obiwan91)
Disclaimer: J.R.R. Tolkien and his family are the sole owners of his works including the Silmarillion and his Lord of the Rings series. I'm just inspired by his works and thought of different ways for different things to end as another option. It's his music; I'm just playing it on a ukulele, not a guitar. ಠ_ಠ


Chapter Eight – Winds Come to Him and Say

The next morning was spent traversing through mountainous hills and winding paths that varied from dry and frozen riverbeds, to tree-enshrouded ravines. Mîrluiniel was almost certain she could not find her way out again if she tried. In a corner of her mind, she wondered if Maglor was leading them this way to purposefully disorient her, but she dismissed the idea immediately. He was just taking them through this for everyone's safety; there was surely a more open path for large numbers to pass in and out.
Though much of it was currently barren and white, Kalin still found everything to be very beautiful among the rocks and imposing trees. It was a treacherous beauty, to be sure, but to her it made it that much more spectacular. Maglor subtly shifted in the saddle to observe her taking in her surroundings and could not help but feel pride swell within his chest to see her so obviously pleased with the landscape. Catching his eye, she smiled in approval and they cantered past the line of trees where at last a view of the hill was afforded. It could easily swallow the size of Celegorm and Curufin's entire camp twice or three times again with its extent.
"My lady, welcome to Himring." He said to her as his men came up behind them and they collectively galloped with eagerness to their home. As they passed through the opened gate, Mirluiniel was pleased to see children running about and after them, waving to the returning fathers, uncles and brothers. It was more than she had expected, but still, their number could not have exceeded a dozen, mixed in age from toddler to young ellith and edhil.
High stone walls, three stories and more in the corner towers, surrounded her as she became part of the keep, her eyes meeting the welcoming sets of ellith that had come from their houses to greet them. She couldn't have been happier to see them looking upon her kindly, and not as some stranger that wasn't to be met.
"Hail! My brother has returned at last!" The voice came from an elf wearing a great fur-trimmed cloak and whose stature greatly resembled that of every Fëanorian she had thus far met-- never mind that his call to Maglor was evidence enough of his relation to the sons.
Her escort soon addressed him and volunteered his name for her ears. "Caranthir! I had thought you still in Thargelion! When did you arrive?"
"Maedhros summoned me. I arrived only late last night." His dark eyes moved to the fair elleth curiously, noting how striking she looked for an elf. She was certainly not of the Noldor. "Have you brought us a beauty, now? Who is this lass you've surely stolen from Elbereth's maidens, Maglor?"
Dismounting first, the eldest of the two reached up and smoothly carried Kalin down by her waist, turning to present her to his brother. "This is Kalin. My lady, this is one of my brothers, Caranthir."
The introduced edhel took her single hand and brushed a kiss upon it in greeting, murmuring to her, yet not taking care to keep his words unheard. "His only brother of consequence, I think he meant to say." His egotistical jest evoked her sweet laughter and signaled a look to be shared between the present kin, wordlessly explaining many things to the younger sibling.
"You must be tired, my lady. I am Remethiel; shall I show you to your rooms so that you may rest?" A pretty, raven-haired elleth approached her kindly, though looked more to Maglor for an answer, than to her.
The Noldo lord gave his lovely charge a reassuring glance and nodded for the elven woman to do as she had offered. "I will check on you within an hour, is that well?" He asked her and received her pleasing smile before allowing the Noldorin woman to lead her away.
"You are very fortunate to have such an elf looking after you, my lady. In my own experience, Noldorin edhil are everything loyal when it comes to their ladies." Remethiel explained to her as they passed through stone halls and Mîrluiniel could not but be flattered and a little alarmed from the lady's context. The elven woman walked on a little before glancing her way and immediately perceived her distress. "You are not comfortable with my saying such?"
Quickly, the snow-hued blonde corrected the interpretation of her silence. "No, I am simply not used to such being said." The Sindarin elleth paused a moment before choosing to confide in this new friend. "Is it very clear that lord Maglor admires me?"
Remethiel then stopped at a deeply carved door and gave her full attention. "I have seen you only just since you arrived, Kalin, and I can tell you honestly that, yes, it is very clear… But, do you not hold the affection for lord Maglor as he does you?"
She could only shrug. "Sometimes I am confused, but I know for certain that I do not hold the same ardor for him that he may hold for me."
"I'm afraid, I do not understand. Maglor has very much to be desired in a man, and even more so for a life-mate, how…" She looked to Kalin with a secretive glint in her grey eyes. "Is there another, then?"
It took but a moment for the fair elleth to blush and only a moment longer before she nodded in reply. "I am more assured every day that there is." Remethiel smiled kindly and opened the door they had stopped at to let her inside her new chambers.
It was an impeccably large room with a bed in the center, surrounded and covered in furs, a sitting chair with a desk, and a great fireplace to one side with an adjoining room for bathing on the other. Mîrluiniel couldn't have asked for more, and almost thought to ask for less, that is, until her hand caressed the soft bed and thick pelts, not realizing that her body begged for the warmth of such a bed to contrast the previous nights which had been spent wind-chapped and shivering. She quickly thought better of asking for a demoted room.
"Lord Maedhros made certain that I have plenty of furs for you to stay warm, he mentioned briefly that you were not used to the long winters we have here. Everything was seen to just before his departure for the Marches."
Kalin turned to her, surprised. "Lord Maedhros? He's already left?"
The darker-dressed elleth nodded. "He rode for his patrol a day after his arrival. He would have left an instant after arriving had he not been in such sore condition. I had him stay long enough to rest at least one night. The elf took every care to see that you would be settled in these rooms. 'To give up his very chamber,' I said, 'she must be a splendid woman.' And I see now that she is, indeed."
Her sweet smile was a comfort, yet Kalin was still seeking to grasp all that her acquaintance had said. That he would subject his, still fresh, wounds to such biting cold further north on his March, just to avoid her presence; and then to give her his own rooms while he was away, just to ensure her comfort! It was baffling.
"I won't press you as to whom your 'other' is…" The woman continued with a grin that any friend might use with another. "But seeing your reaction to what I've just said, I believe I have something of an idea." She made her way to the door but turned back, satisfied to see another blush creeping up the fair maiden's neck and to her cheeks. "You need not tell me anything this moment, my lady, we shall have a great deal of time to spend together now that you're here. But I would dearly love to know it all."
Kalin allowed a slightly embarrassed laugh to bubble out from her throat and was joined in it with her new friend even as the door came closed and she was instructed to rest. 'I must be all that is transparent to any creature with eyes.' Mîrluiniel exasperated to herself and sat upon the wonderful bed, already warmed by the tended flames just close enough.
Looking around and studying her room with a new interest now that she knew of its previous occupant, she took careful note of the chair next to her, the two corner windows which were blanketed to keep in the heat ad outwardly shuttered to keep out the cold. Later, she would learn that her chambers were on the very northwest corner, and therefore carried windows with views both to the north, of unknown territory, and west toward her old home of Doriath.
Quite barren otherwise, Mîrluiniel could easily see how this had been the eldest Fëanorian's chamber. Standing, she gently laid her hand upon the strong wooden mantle and looked into the dangerously beautiful flames. Thoughts of Maedhros once again arose, her mind's eye seeing his length of deep red hair and the expressive green eyes that burned with something she could only hope for when they met with hers.
Realizing that she was indeed truly tired, Kalin wrapped a covering around her loosely and settled atop the furs on the side closest to the fire. Her eyes steadily shut and her face eased into a pleasant expression as sleep caught up with her exhausted body. It was not very long after that Maglor knocked quietly upon her door and opened it with her name on his lips. A smile then touched those lips when he caught sight of her and he leaned briefly upon the doorframe to watch the maiden now peacefully resting.
In the back of his mind there still resided a small doubt that she might not like this harsh environment, these people that could be strange and unknown; but the hope and knowledge of her welcome temper and acclimating attitude won through and, upon seeing so gentle an echo of a smile pass over her unconscious features, he couldn't be more confident of her one day considering Himring to be her home.

Ten days reinforced Maglor's views exceptionally upon the subject of Mîrluiniel's proper acclimation to the fort. Especially by her being introduced to, and grown in intimacy with, Remethiel and her husband Mornefindon along with their two young daughters, Dessuithiel, and Pilindiel. Often she would accompany the elder elleth during the day and assist with her chores and duties around the stronghold, including the teaching and care of her children.
"Kalin, tell us bout you horsey gain!"
"Yes, please!" Dessui, the elder of the two, and Pili begged her as they sat beneath an awning outside.
Smiling, she obliged the two horse-loving girls and told them of her white steed Randiriel for, what seemed now close to, the fiftieth time. "My Randiriel was skittish at even a locust, but a snort from her nostrils scared off anyone who dared to threaten me. She pawed the ground restlessly when I readied her for riding because she was so ready to run. She knew she was fast and loved to race the wind in a storm, devouring every distance easily…" As Kalin continued, she gained another listener who kept hidden by his own horse, saddled and waiting with his master a short ways behind the elleth.
Caranthir stood watching with great interest behind a set of piercing green eyes; close in resemblance to that elder brother's who was thought of so often by the object of his current focus. He listened attentively to the love with which she described such a horse as could, and obviously did, fill the words of many a great tale. Discerning with ears born of a high elf, her voice and accent spoke to him of her origin, betraying her homeland to be with those of the Sindar.
"Lord Caranthir!" His attention was drawn by a young elfling at the woman's feet, and, though he looked to her as she inquired of him, grew aggravated that he must be interrupted from his observations. "Could Kalin's mare best your horse in a race, do you think?"
He smirked as Kalin also turned to him, interested in his reply. "Though I've had an account of her horse well enough, I know nothing of how my lady Kalin rides her mount. It takes a supremely competitive person to best my Eithel and I together." He received an arched brow as he walked his stallion up to them and smiled almost wickedly down at her. Mîrluiniel looked away, down to the child in her lap, and said nothing, yearning to have the courage to tell him how great a rider she truly was, yet forbade herself from becoming so again now because of her handicap. "I understand your own good steed is no longer, my lady, but we have several well-bred horses in the stables for you to use. We can see then how truly fast a rider you are." The last was said with a thinly veiled challenge.
Reluctantly, she declined with explanation. "I thank you my lord, but no. It… I have not ridden on my own since the loss of my arm… I think I am not quite ready to climb on again."
This he had not expected. "A pity, my lady. From seeing you on my brother's mount I know you to look very well upon the creature." He paused as if contemplating, and then smiled subtly before he bid them good day, mounting his own stallion and then adding. "Perhaps we can persuade you otherwise while you are yet here." He turned away with a bow to her and then galloped quickly away.
Pili in her arms looked up to her questioningly. "Kalin, why you not ride? Lor'Maedhros rides and he has no both hands, just like you."
"Yes, maybe he can teach you how he does it, Kalin! I think you will be great at it again." Dessui added encouragingly after her sister.
Laughing delightedly at their energy to get her riding, Mîrluiniel picked up the youngest of them as she stood and began walking them back to their home. "Thank you both, but lord Maedhros would not want to teach me. I'm sure he will be very busy when he returns."
Dessui shook her head, reaching to take hold of her stunted arm as carelessly as if she were holding her naneth's hand. "Lord Maedhros isn't that busy. Before he left for Himlad the last time, he was on the walls a lot looking out for long times. Or he'd watch the older boys train with practice swords. He helped them a lot. We watched, too, didn't we, Pili?"
Tired now, Pilindiel nodded gently to her sister against Kalin's shoulder. "His horsey's pretty." Became her sleepy contribution. With a kiss to the little one's brow, Kalin could not help but agree.
Mornefindon accepted his children gladly and ushered them through his smith-shop and into the house. "Thank you, again, my lady. Were they well-behaved for you?" Assuring him that they were, Kalin bid them good eve and pulled her wrap closer around her before walking through the trampled snow and toward the stables. Thankful for its roof and the warmth of several horses, she entered and retraced the steps she'd taken every day to visit Dûri. Mîrluiniel came to her familiar stall and smiled as her arms folded atop the closed half-gate.
Maglor was bent over scraping the muck and slough out from his mare's hind hooves, but straightened with a welcome smile as he heard her approach. Kalin gently stroked Dûri's long nose and ruffled the coarse hair of a pitch-black forelock as Maglor came to prop his forearms in the opposite direction at her side. "Good evening, Mîrluiniel. Are you well?" He asked, judging correctly that she was not all of her cheerful self.
She sighed with a tender smile, letting Dûri's velvety lips nibble at cold fingers. "I am well. I've just been thinking of Randiriel and how it felt to be on her back… That seems so very long ago, now."
He thought on this. "In a way it is long ago." He studied her a moment as she gazed at his horse, then continued. "But with time comes the new out of the old." He caught her eye with meaning. "There is starting again, Mîrluiniel. Always, there is starting again." Her soft smile was soon blown away with a frigid winter draft. Wearing nothing but his tunic and belts himself, Maglor took his heavier coat from a hook just outside the stall and situated it over her wrap.
"Thank you." Her sweet voice was quiet, almost subdued, and his hated for it to be so.
"Have you always been so cold-natured? Or are we just ill-supplying you with warmth?"
At last, he heard her soft laugh and she tugged at his rolled up sleeve teasingly. "I might as well be the normal one who feels a chill, where I'm sure you haven't felt one frost even wearing only this in the dead of winter!" Her hand lingered on his exposed arm. "Even now you're full warm… how is this?"
She looked up at him with the honest inquiry and he acknowledged. "There are differences, aside from looks and appearances, between our two peoples. I wish many of them were not so prominent… such as Noldorin pride…"
She stopped him there. "I can assure you, pride is not upon one side only." Kalin caught herself before too much revealed itself on such a fragile subject.
Once more, though he had caught her on it, Maglor allowed the chance to go by unexplored. "I've received word from Maedhros that he will be remaining on his March through the change of duty for our elves. He may not return until the spring festival." The change of subject, he admitted, was abrupt, and the news with which it conveyed clearly affected Mîrluiniel.
She stared at the dappled bay mare for some moments, as if seeking consolation, before responding at length. "He will stay away for so long? He makes me feel as if I've wronged him by coming here, Maglor."
"No. Never say that. I know not what to say except that he will not keep away forever, Mîrluiniel. I know my brother's feelings, and if he loved you less, he would be here with you. That is how he works, though I know it is futile for him to try and deprive himself of you." Her countenance held hope once more at his words and Maglor pressed her hand before opening the stall gate and escorting her to a fire within the fort where she could gather still more comfort.

Maglor allowed her to keep the letter containing Maedhros' own script; though little knowing that the elleth would stay most of the night awake by a dying fire to read it again and again, hoping that some part of it could lend her courage and the assurance of his affections.

Kano,

The next rotation of men should be ready to leave Himring for their shift on the watches by the new moon. When I arrived, it was just preceding a week-long whiteout and nothing could be done for as much time.
There have been numerous mutilated deer and other game scattered to the east and we doubt an increase of rabid creatures so much as we suspect the ill will of our Enemy is at work.
I will be remaining to guard and keep a close watch on the movement of yrch for some time longer, perhaps returning closer to festival. My purpose, as always, is to defend my people and bring our foes the pain that they deserve.
Keep safe what is yours and what is mine.

-M

Mîrluiniel admired his slanted scrawl and could not help but to read and reread his last line. Could it be that he would consider her to be his? This was her only consolation, for the foreboding of their enemy's drawing near made her weak for his safety. "Please think of your protection among that of your people's, Maedhros." Kalin whispered to the splinter of dawn that peeked through the window, closing her eyes at last to a fitful sleep.

'Maedhros! Maedhros, please!'
With a gasp, jerked from his slumber to Kalin's distressed cry, still ringing in his ears and tightening his chest. Regaining his bearings and breath, the Noldo looked over his smoldering log to see the glow of his men's fires and their sleeping silhouettes, graciously unaffected by his sudden awakening. It was the vision again. It had come to him, waking and unconscious, above seven times since leaving Himlad and rejoining the March. They moved him more deeply than anything he'd ever felt, even in her presence.
Their relationship in the dreams was strong, moreso than he dared to think of happening in reality between them. "Yet oh, how I desire such a bond." Maedhros murmured to himself and passed a hand over his snow-clouded eyes. But even as he thought it, every reason why he was forbidden to ever seek such a thing glared in his mind's eye and sought to blind him to such warm feelings. Aside from the curse of his father's oath-- such a thing that would surely taint his love for her with the adulterous lust for the Silmarilli-- her Sindarin blood binding with his Noldorin would undoubtedly estrange every tie she had to family and people, possibly placing her under the curse of the Noldor to never return to Aman and therefore preventing Kalin from ever seeing Valinor.
If any children were to come of their union, they would be born with too many enemies, and grow up with the knowledge of their father's acts of murder. Not only would Kalin be subject to the Oath, but they, also, would be affected by its sins, possibly never escaping the shackles chained to the ownership of the Silmarils.
Hunching over his flame's dismal warmth, more to shield it from sleeting rain than to gain anything from its light, Maedhros thought blackly of his circumstances. He could never allow himself to be loved. Till his death, he must deny this of himself, for he knew like no other could ever know, that this curse, the oath of his father would kill him in the end. He was unsure as to how it would take place, but enough had been felt on his long days upon that cliff-side to know that his death would come in some other manner, not upon Thangorodrim.
His death. 'How morbid a life one leads when one is certain of their demise.' His thoughts led him down that dark path until a break appeared in the canopy of his mind and light, at last, shone directly upon him. "Mortal men are doomed to die… yet they live and love with the flame of passion that elves hold out for centuries." He sat up straighter and held tenderly the portrait of Kalin his thoughts had painted for him. 'Why cannot I, one of Illúvatar's First Born, love during my limited time, when even a mere mortal is granted to do so?'
He pondered hopefully before consideration for Kalin came into play. If she could even remotely grow to love him, it would be no less than reckless to abandon her to solitude perhaps for eternity after his death. "I am softening." Maedhros muttered, shaking himself. "I cannot give her my love and still keep her safe. She deserves more, more than I can give her. She would never be happy."
'Maitimo…' His mother's voice drew him into a lighter mindset and her words from not long ago came to him again. 'Not every precious thing need be made of stone, my son…' Could he possibly bend and break the oath enough to cherish Kalin above any Silmaril? Celegorm had told him that nothing was certain.
Could it be that the oath was not the only thing to dictate his life? "It cannot be as simple as that. Since the day I swore it, the oath has prevented me every meaningful form of happiness… and this is so great a form of happiness… It cannot be so simple." He concluded despondently, folding his arms against the cold. The wind seemed to cause him more pain that night than it had in a long time.
Getting accustomed to Himring.

EDIT: "[Insert land here]" is now Thargelion. -_- *face palm*
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