Maedhros Nelyafinwë Maitimo Fëanorian ✧ Russandol (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
castintoflames) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
faderift2018-01-29 12:20 am
castintoflames) wrote in faderift2018-01-29 12:20 am
Entry tags:
(Deserves it! I daresay he does.)
WHO: Maedhros & Semi-Open
WHAT: The grumpy Forgemaster is suddenly missing - or, at least, rarely seen. If you do spy him, you are in for a mild surprise.
WHEN: During the second part of the illness plot.
WHERE: Kirkwall - in/near his room or out in the gardens.
NOTES: He's blue - and not just emotionally.
WHAT: The grumpy Forgemaster is suddenly missing - or, at least, rarely seen. If you do spy him, you are in for a mild surprise.
WHEN: During the second part of the illness plot.
WHERE: Kirkwall - in/near his room or out in the gardens.
NOTES: He's blue - and not just emotionally.
I.
All of his work stopped holding sway over him the moment he looked down and saw that his hands were a pale shade of blue. Maedhros knew, from his conversation with Beleth, that he was likely ill. Quite ill, in fact. Yet, until this moment, it hadn't seemed to matter. Fear made his chest clench and he dropped his tools without any regard to where they fell. In the next moment, he had left the Forge, cloaking himself as best as he was able.
He needed to find his family. He needed to...
Not be seen. Eru knew his vanity was nearly nonexistent after the variety of tortures Morgoth had exhibited on his body, but he was blue. As such, he kept to the shadows and cursed each inch of his incredible height. Oh and every strand of his copper hair that had escaped his hood.
His hands shook as he opened doors, searching silently for familiar faces.
Eventually, his will-power would fade and he would bar himself in his room. Even there, he kept himself cloaked. On his door, there was a simple note:
II.
Occasionally, he had no choice but to take in some fresh air. Elves were not meant to be cramped indoors and he had never imprisoned himself so. Despite his size, he found a way to slip through a window and into a garden nearby. There, he would sit and let the wind soothe him as much as it could.
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A pause, and a blink, and then, hastily, "No! No, you aren't at all. There's not much gardening to be done this time of year anyway," she adds and gestures around the sparse-looking garden. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she comes to sit next to him and frowns, peering at what she can see of him. Which isn't much, what with his hood in the way.
A pause. Then, "You don't need to do that, you know. I'm not going to poke fun."
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"I know." because it isn't in her nature to poke fun. She is far too good for that and, in acknowledgement of his trust in her, Maedhros pushes the hood back fully. His hair is bound in a simple braid - except for some bright strands that are determined to escape at his temples.
"Are you feeling well?"
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Still, there's something downright unsettling about seeing someone you know have their appearance changed so drastically--and a change to one's skin colour is certainly drastic. She tries not to let her surprise to show too visibly on her face, and then latches onto his question as a means of distraction.
"Oh, I'm all right," she assures him, offering him a little smile. "Just... trying to help. But short of a bit of gardening and knowing some herbal tea remedies..." She gives a helpless shrug, turning her downcast eyes towards the earth.
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"What you do is appreciated. Do not belittle your talents." Maedhros glances at her, wincing faintly as his head pounded in time with his heartbeat, "Herbal teas are valued highly by my people. One of my fosterlings would gladly assist you in gardening. He is a Healer at heart."
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"I would like to think so, but I cannot claim to be their blood father."
Oh how he wishes.
"There are two - twins - Elrond and Elros. Elrond is the Healer."