FIC: Citius, Altius, Fortius - 17 to 19

[zhie]

Title: Citius, Altius, Fortius (17-19/25)
Author: Zhie
Summary: An autumn tale that follows Fingolfin’s children through
small adventures and first loves. Gen, het, and slash all rolled into
one.
Rating: Some scenes NC17, mostly PGish
Characters: Fingon/Maedhros; Turgon/Elenwe; Aredhel/Celegorm; Argon;
their parent-folk, cousins, and other family members
Archive: http://phoenix.zhie.us (Once Nuinzilien helps me defeat the
evilness of grammar and plotholes with her awesome beta skillz)
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s characters are property of his estate; I’m just
playing with them and will return them when I’m done feeding them
cheesecake.
Author Notes: Written for NaNoWriMo 2008. Bunniverse compatible.



-Forging and Foraging- (17)


“Can we stop?” asked Aredhel. “Surely, no one is chasing after us right now.”

Celegorm slowed down his pace until they were strolling leisurely
through the woods. “We should stop and try to do a little hunting,”
he said. “I am only a little hungry now, but it will be good to have
captured game before we are famished.”

“Good idea.” Aredhel frowned. “I have nothing to hunt with. Can I
use your knife?”

“What am I to use?” he queried. Aredhel shrugged. “Here, let me make
you a spear.” He searched the forest floor for the items he would
need, including a sharp rock and a long, straight branch. “I suppose
we can try fishing once we reach some water. I do have those
fishhooks.”

Aredhel began to do some gathering of her own, finding a number of
raspberry bushes which still held fruit on them. When Celegorm
brought her the finished spear, she offered him some of her harvest.
“I wonder if I could find any mushrooms for us to eat.”

“Mushrooms?” Celegorm made a face. “If there is one thing I hate
more than heights, it would be mushrooms.”

“I guess you would have no desire to eat mushrooms on the top of a
tree then.” Aredhel took the spear and frowned. “This is too heavy
to use for small game, and I doubt we will be hunting many large
things.”

“If you have a better plan, then I am all ears.”

Aredhel looked around, and then wandered off. Celegorm gathered what
few items they had and followed after her. They stopped when she
reached a flat area. She took some of the berries and placed them on
the ground under a tree and then climbed up high with her spear.
“Celegorm, come up here.”

“Seriously?”

“You do not need to come up this far, but you should climb up into the
lower branches at least.” Aredhel waited until Celegorm had done as
she had told him and then she crawled out onto the branch. It took a
little while, but eventually a fat rabbit jumped out from under a bush
and hopped up to investigate the berries. He was dead within moments.

Celegorm reached the ground first and yanked the spear from the
ground. “I am impressed,” he admitted. “I would not have thought to
do that.”

“Thank you.” Aredhel retrieved her prize and held it by the ears.
“How many more do you think we need?”

“Maybe one or two, if you can get them,” said Celegorm. They walked a
little to the west before setting the trap again. Once again, an
unsuspecting rabbit crossed the path and was taken down before he knew
what hit him. The third time, the rabbit dodged off before the spear
hit the ground, but their fourth victim was not quite so fast.

They were able to skin the rabbits and roast the meat for their
supper. They buried what they did not use, and the skins were rolled
up and stuffed into the sack that had the rest of their supplies.
They did not dare start a fire for fear that someone might spy it and
investigate. Both were tired, so they found a rock formation nestled
within a grove of pine trees that provided some extra shelter from the
wind.

“Maybe we should sit a little closer together,” suggested Celegorm
when Aredhel settled down across from him. He patted the ground next
to him. “There is a nice spot right here for you.”

“I am fine where I am,” said Aredhel.

Celegorm shrugged. “You might feel better sitting here, though.”

“Why?”

“I just thought you might get a little cold,” he said. “I want to
make sure you are comfortable.”

“I am fine,” she assured him. “In fact, it is almost too warm for me.”

“Maybe you should take some of your clothes off, then,” he suggested quickly.

Aredhel narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to get me out of my clothes?”

“What?” Celegorm laughed uneasily. “What?”

“You heard me.” Aredhel placed her hands on her hips. “I had some
suspicion of your intentions when we were on the ship together – now I
am fairly certain of it.”

Celegorm continued to laugh. “What?” He shook his head. “Aredhel,
darling, I... yes, well, yes, perhaps I have been a little forward.
But honestly, look at you – you are such a charming lady, and we have
so much in common—“

“Including a grandfather!”

“Which makes it much easier when one of us says to the other ‘Would
you like to meet the family?’, because, we both already know each
other.”

“Darling?!”

“Yes?”

“No – you called me darling,” realized Aredhel. “We are cousins!”

“Yes.” Celegorm blinked. “Is that a problem for you?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

Aredhel opened her mouth to answer, but was unable to do so. “It is
just wrong.”

“Perhaps, according to some; then again, what about your brother and
my brother?”

Aredhel crossed her arms over her chest. “What about them?”

“Do you think they should not be together?”

“If they love each other, then they should be.” Aredhel sighed. “I
see where you are going with this.”

“Aredhel, I would be lying if I told you I would be happy for you if
you ever found someone else to be your lover.” Celegorm leaned over
and took hold of her hands in his. “I—“

“Do not say it,” she warned him.

“I want you to know that if you ever would allow me to have the chance
to court you, I would be more than honored.”

“Oh.”

Celegorm let go of her hands and sat back again. “What did you think
I was going to say?”

“I love you,” said Aredhel.

“I love you, too,” answered Celegorm with a grin.

“Oh! You!” Aredhel picked up the sack with the rabbit skins and
began to smack Celegorm’s shoulder with it as he laughed heartily.
“You are lucky I do not want to be in the woods by myself, or I would
beat you senseless!”

Celegorm continued to laugh long after the sack was dropped next to
him with a huff. When he did sit up, he saw that Aredhel was huddled
next to the rocks with her arms wrapped around herself. “Celegorm?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He grinned and held out the sack, daring her to
attack him again.

Aredhel rubbed her bare shoulders and curled her toes in. “I think I
might be a little bit cold.”

Celegorm sat up and offered her the spot next to him again. With only
slight hesitation, Aredhel joined him and snuggled up next to him.
“Are you feeling any better?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around
her.

Aredhel nodded and rested her head on Celegorm’s shoulder. The winds
picked up and blew harder as the silver light of the evening lit the
land. Celegorm took the furs from the sack and used them to cover
Aredhel’s bare feet. “Do not worry about falling asleep. I will do
nothing untoward to you, cousin.”

“I know.” Aredhel nuzzled sleepily against him and sighed. “I am
open-minded, Celegorm, but you must forgive me and allow me time to
consider what you have said.”

“I understand,” he replied.

Aredhel waited a few moments and then added, “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”
-Getting to Know You- (18)

Another competition meant another day that Turgon spent at the arena.
On one hand, he had actually hoped that they competition would be
called off for some reason, on account of the butterflies that had
infiltrated his stomach. They fluttered about every time he thought
of her, or someone mentioned her name – which, to be honest, was not
often unless provoked.

“Turgon, I have a message that needs to be taken to the coaches of
Team Orange Blossom. One of their girls just landed wrong and broke
her foot. We think the coaches are in their warm up room because they
are not in the arena.”

With a curt nod, Turgon saluted the head of the squad. “I will get
the message to them immediately,” he promised. He turned and began to
walk into the passageway. After a moment, he looked over his shoulder
to see if he was still being watched, but his superior had left and
gone back to the competition already. Turgon took a moment to pull
something out of his pocket and shake it out.

The object was a long length of black cloth that he was using as a
blindfold. He leaned against the side of the passage and wrapped it
around his head, blocking his vision. Once it was tied tightly behind
his head, Turgon strolled down the hall and counted his steps in order
to reach his destination.

He did stumble a few times on things left in the hallway. The first
was a jump rope that made him propel himself into the wall. The next
was a baton that someone had dropped during a practice routine and
forgotten to pick up. At each mishap, someone would giggle and then a
pause came while they pointed, which was followed by more laughter.

“I am fine. Do not worry,” promised Turgon as he continued on toward
his destination. He reached the team room safely, found the coaches
(despite not being able to see either of them), and then turned around
in order to return to his post.

He promptly walked right into someone and tumbled backwards onto his posterior.

“Just what are you doing?”

The voice was unmistakable, and Turgon hoped that his rapidly beating
heart was unheard by Elenwe. “I just had to deliver a message,” he
explained. “I did not wish you to think that I might take liberties,
so I have devised a method that will allow me to carry on my duties
without worry that I might see something I should not.”

“That is ridiculous,” said Elenwe as she helped Turgon stand up. “How
can you see where you are going?”

“I cannot,” admitted Turgon. “However, there is no possible way I can
see anything else for that matter, so there is no worry that I might
be seeing something I should not.”

“You silly elf,” scolded Elenwe gently. She placed Turgon’s arm
around hers and guided him back down the passage. “You are going to
have a lump on your head if you keep doing this from walking into the
walls.”

“But, I shall remain unaccused.”

“I bet you were a difficult child,” said Elenwe as she deposited
Turgon at the mouth of the passage and removed the blindfold.

“Yes – how did you know?” wondered Turgon as Elenwe walked back down
the corridor, his blindfold still in her hand.

“Lucky guess,” she called back to him.

The competition that evening was between a few of the male gyms. Some
of the all-female teams stayed to watch, either to support neighboring
gyms or because they wanted to watch the techniques employed by their
male counterparts. Turgon had managed to procure a seat for himself
near the seats reserved for the team that Elenwe was on. The moment
she entered, he stopped watching the doors for her and pretended to
have been enraptured with the warm-ups going on in the arena.

“Fancy meeting you here,” said Elenwe as she and her teammates filed
into their seats. She sat down beside Turgon and asked, “How is your
head?”

“Fine, thank you. Actually, fine, thanks to you. I may need to
employ your assistance in all of my blindfolded expeditions.” Turgon
pointed down at the floor of the arena. “My brother is right down
there.”

“Oh.” Elenwe motioned toward one of the competitors. “Is that him?”

“No, he is the coach. Off to the side, right over there.”

“Oh! I remember him!” Elenwe nodded. “I recall seeing him when he
used to compete. He used to have this ritual where he would walk
around the outside edge of the entire arena three times before each
meet. It was really weird, but no one questioned him about it.”

“Yes, that is him.” Turgon settled back in his seat again. “When I
was little, I used to have to go with him to the gym, because my
mother would take him and I would have to come along. They tried to
get me to learn the different things, but I had no interest in them.
I spent most of my time digging holes in the side yard of the gym and
burying things.”

“How old were you?”

“Old enough to know I should not be burying things, too young to know
I was doing it to try to get attention because I craved it from my
parents. I wonder if my father ever did find out what happened to
that belt buckle he liked so much,” Turgon mused.

Elenwe bought a bag of roasted nuts from one of the vendors. “You
mean you do not know if he ever got it back?”

“There are a lot of things he probably never found,” Turgon realized.
“I suppose they are all fairly safe, though. I mean, how many people
are digging holes in the yard of a gymnasium?”

“You could always go back and find them. It could be interesting to
see what you dig up. Which gym were you at?”

“Yes,” replied Turgon after quite a long pause.

Elenwe giggled. “Do you not remember?” she asked as she offered some
of the nuts to Turgon. She laughed again when he shook his head.
“That could cause a problem.”

“It could,” he agreed. “I was so little, I cannot remember where he was.”

“Why not simply ask him?” suggested Elenwe.

Turgon snickered. “If I asked him, he would want to know why. If I
tell him why, he will never allow me to live it down.”

“I guess your secrets will need to stay buried,” said Elenwe.
“Unless, of course, you ever decide to go to every gym and look for
them.”

“Maybe you and I could try doing that someday when you have time,”
said Turgon hopefully.

“Maybe,” answered Elenwe.




-I’m in the Mood for a Melody- (19)

Breakfast, like most meals, was nearly wordless. Fingon never wanted
to interrupt Maglor’s thoughts, and Maglor was constantly busy writing
down new songs and verses. Every once in a while, Maglor might ask
for a word that meant a particular thing that he could not remember or
Fingon would ask for the sugar or salt to be passed, but more or less
they might have both been eating alone. Today, Fingon had tried to
wait until after they had eaten to ask his question, but he had
wondered about it so long, that he finally blurted it out.

“Do you think you could teach me how to play?”

Maglor looked up blankly. “Play what?”

“To play harp. Unless you think I could not learn.”

“I think anyone would be able to learn, but, why would you want me to
teach you?” asked Maglor.

“Why not? You are very good at it, and, well, you are here.” Fingon
pushed his food around his plate. “It is something I have wished to
know for a while. Now I finally have the time to do so.”

“I do not think I would be a very good teacher,” Maglor admitted. “I
will give it a try, though. After breakfast. Do you have time then?”

“My schedule for the day is free,” said Fingon happily. “I shall be
your willing pupil.”

They spent the morning in the back yard. Fingon learned a few chords,
and Maglor taught him basic theory and how to read a chart. Future
lessons were scheduled, and Fingon went to the market in the early
evening to purchase produce and search for a harp. Nothing he liked
was in his price range, and nothing in his price range was what he
wanted. He returned that evening with a basket of carrots and
peppers, a box of eggs, and a set of harp strings. Although he had
never made a harp, and had no clue where to start, he reasoned it
would be cheaper and more interesting than simply buying one that was
already made.

---

Silence. Maglor’s harp was at rest, as was Maglor himself. Fingon
was in his own bed, staring up at the ceiling. He found himself
feeling very lonely now, even with all of the new people he had met.
He missed Turgon, for he had never had his own room before, and had
always had someone to talk to before bed or just after he had awoken.
There was no one to take care of the little things, like making food
or mending shirts. All the necessities were done by Maglor or
himself; sometimes, such as with the dishes, the tasks were put off
until necessary turned into immediately from the stench in the
kitchen.

Beyond loneliness and self-reliance, there was also the lack of
security. Although the house was near other residences, it was back
from the road and close to the woods. A howling wolf could put Fingon
on edge; branches cracking too close for comfort would sometimes spook
him. It was different from hunting and camping in the woods, for he
would never do such things alone. Always there was a group, his
brother and his cousins, or at the very least, there was Maedhros.

Maedhros was what he missed the most. For some reason, he had assumed
that this plan would lead to more time with his lover, but it had not.
Maedhros had his own responsibilities. His apprenticeship was
something he had taken seriously, and he oft worked long hours and
caught himself up in projects he would spend days on. When he did
come to call, it could be counted upon for him to bring others along
as well – perhaps Uncle Feanor, or Caranthir, or sometimes even
Curufin, who seemed a little lost himself with Celegorm yet missing.

Fingon wondered where Celegorm was, and if his sister was with him.
Of course, it seemed logical that they were together, the more he
thought on it. It made no sense that they would both be missing at
the same time had they not gone wherever they had together. It still
seemed hasty that they had run away; then again, it was something
Fingon had long considered, but he did not have the courage or
adventurous nature of his sister.

The light of Telperin flowed into the room, and Fingon rose from bed
to draw the curtains. He reached the window and a breeze fluttered
through, the curtains wrapping around his arms to expose the view to
him. The woods were dim, and yet, inviting. Fingon watched a rabbit
nose at the ground under his window. A doe wandered out from the
trees, and lifted her head, flicked her ears. Everything was quiet,
with the exception of the breeze as it whistled through the leaves and
needles of the trees.

Fingon stepped back from the window. He wanted to be out there, in
the woods, out in the freedom of the outdoors. He hastily grabbed a
pair of leggings from the back of a chair and donned them quickly
before moving into the sitting room. He left a note for Maglor in
case his cousin woke and found him missing, and then proceeded to the
door.

There was no hesitation as he stepped out into the chilly air and
padded barefoot down the steps to the ground. He walked around the
house and found the deer was gone, but the rabbit remained. Past the
creature he walked, slowly into the woods, minding the rocks as he
went. The path he wandered seemed to have been cleared for him. A
stream blocked his way at one point, but he waded through it, ignoring
his wet legs and the fabric that clung to them when he reached the
other side.

In a clearing, a very small one at that, he found the one he realized
he had been seeking. She was sitting on the ground, with the doe
resting beside her. Unlike the last time, Nessa was dressed in a
flowing green gown that reached just past her knees and covered most
of her form. “I was beginning to think you were not going to come
back,” she said. “It was hard to reach you, and I had been searching
for so many years for someone like you. Still, sometimes what I want
is not what others want.”

Fingon held out his hand to her. “I wish for you to teach me to dance.”

“Is that really what you want?”

“I know it is,” he said. “I can feel it, deep inside of me. I have
thought of little else since I danced with you around the fire. Show
me how to dance – how to really dance as you do,” he insisted.

Nessa took hold of Fingon’s hand and stood up. “This is not the sort
of thing you will learn in a single night,” she warned him.

“I know. I have patience. And I have time. Once I set my mind to
something, I devote myself to it,” promised Fingon. “This is what I
am meant to do.”

“Aye, it is. How will your family feel about that? What about your lover?”

Fingon searched Nessa’s face to see if there was hidden meaning in her
words, but he saw none. “I should hope they will support my decision.
If they do not, well…” Fingon smiled ruefully. “It would not be the
first time.”

tbc...