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Starlight poured through the windows that lined the walls of the stone-cold fortress. Footsteps echoed so eerily, the sound bouncing off the cracks. Himring, a place that was usually so sombre, and threatening, a beacon of resistance against the dark that crawled upon the land was now alit with laughter, songs and warmth. Yuletide was one of the few times a year Himring seemed alive.
The sun shone brightly upon the snow-covered plains, as the soft little snowflakes fell from the sky. A glint of gold caught Maedhros’ eye, as did the large packed snowball whirling from behind a snowbank.
“HA! GOT YOU!”, Fingon’s bright laughter danced in the air, as did Maglors, “we’ve been waiting out here for almost an age! I thought we would have frozen!” Maedhros scoffed at his brother's ridiculous statement before he too pelted a snowball straight at his face. “Oh n-hmfgh!” Wide eyes stared right at Maedhros, Maglors face at that moment was so hysterical, wide-eyed, mouth-open with snow falling from his face that even Maedhros had to laugh. Fingon on the other hand (not that Maedhros had another hand) was rolling in the snow, face red from laughing. So of course Maedhros just had to throw a rather large snowball straight at him….“AHH MAEDHROS YOU MENANCE! I WILL TAKE THIS AS A DECLARATION OF WAR!”
The armies were split into two, one under the High King and one under Maedhros, each dug trenches and banks, each had a hefty supply of ammunition, and each was prepared to fight until the last man.
And so it began. Snowballs rained through the sky like arrows, fired like cannonballs as they cut through the air, making quick work of their targets and soon, more reinforcements came. Soon all of Himring was dragged into a state of snowy warfare.
One by one they fell until it was only Fingon and Maedhros left, squaring each other up in the last few rays of day, Maedhros could only stare at how beautiful Fingon was, how his face looked in the sun, how his eyes were brighter than even the silmarils, how his lips curled wh- Maedhros was almost knocked off his feet as the snowball hit him square in the face. “FINGON WINS!” Maglors voice rang out, snapping Maedhros from his stupor, only to be pelted once more by his own army. “How dare you let him win!” “Just because he’s your husband doesn’t mean you just let him win at a snow fight!” Maedhros missed this feeling, too long had the people sat and stewed in these halls, singing sombre songs of fallen friends. So he just smiled.
~
“Move over you tall lump,” Fingons exasperated voice drew a soft laugh from deep within his chest, Fingon plopping down on top of him also did the same. The stars smiled and winked at him, lighting up the endless sky. The void perhaps, where his father now dwelled for all of eternity, where he would dwell. “Are you alright?” Fingons hand wrapped around his, squeezing reassuredly, like a heartbeat. They watched the clouds fly through the night like birds, pointed out their fallen friends who had now become bright stars that burned deep into their hearts. “I think, out of all the Yules I remember, this is the best one,” Maedhros turned towards his lover and teasingly whispered, “Even better than the first Yule after your majority?” At those words, Fingons face turned a rather striking shade of what could only be described as well beet red as he spluttered out “I-i-i- thought you forgot about that,” “Nope, care to relive it?” “No-” “Well, of course, I wouldn’t know what you were doing before the ball but I do remember Aredhel telling me about you flapping about because you couldn’t find the hair ribbons that were already braided into your hair, or the fact that you were practising dancing with your own reflection, oh and you begging your father to give you a seat next to me,” “I- neve-” “Oh and then I distinctly remember you tripping over your cloak and tumbling down the stairs and knocking over the poor servant who spilt wine almost as red as your face and then after the absolute mess that was the dinner, because of course our fathers could not be civilised for even a moment you asked me whether I wished to go for a walk with you around the garden and-” Strong hands pushed at Maedhros, “Do not say another word! Or I will have to declare you an enemy of the elfs!” Fingon was again, bright red and somewhat dumbfounded. “Anyways, you pulled me into a kiss and proceeded to step on my foot, trip and land right into a bush of thorns! Right in view of Finwe!” Maedhros could barely even finish his sentence without laughing and Fingon, well he just sat there, he too could no longer hold in his laughter. “Why was I such a stupid youth,” Fingon muttered, only for Maedhros to reply “Not stupid just too eager, just like when we have se-,” and was promptly cut off with a kiss.
They lay together and shared stories until the golden hue of the morning sun lit up the world.
If Maedhros could stop time and stay in any moment it would be this one.