Chapter Text
When the phone call with his father ended, Maedhros felt the weight of a mountain pressed down on his chest. He stood still for a while with his phone in his hand before his breath came back to him. Father’s voice echoed in his mind, passionate and demanding, criticizing his and his brother’s life with a fervent that could make anyone crumble.
“Acting? Maglor is squandering his potential, and jumping straight into the den of degeneracy" Maglor is the most artistically gifted person in our family with a voice that can nuance every note of emotion. All of us tried our hand at music and school plays. None of us ever came even close to him. There is nothing degenerate about his passion.
"Everyone wanted to be an actor when they were young and almost all of them came to regret it at the end." And Maglor would regret it if he didn't follow his passion.
"You should have convinced your brother out of his idiotic endeavor by now." I do not wish to. It would bring me endless joy to hear Maglor's singing. You would too once you see him on the stage.
"You're the eldest, you should know better." I am perfectly content with Maglor's choice, you don't. There are always your expectations for all of us.
"You're normally very persuasive—don’t just stand by and let him destroy his future. Keep at it, Maedhros. Get him to see reason before it’s too late.” Maybe I could, and perhaps Maglor would heed my words, but I didn't want to so I didn't
Despite the thoughts in his head, with a soft and obedient voice, he answered "Yes, father. Please give me more time. I will talk to Maglor."
Feanor, ever the demanding father, had no interest in excuses, only what he wanted. "‘I expect more from you, Maitimo. As my oldest child, you should be able to handle both your own business and manage your brothers for me, letting me focus on my work. You have always done a marvelous job up until now. I have been quite disappointed lately by your lackluster effort. Don't disappoint me, Maitimo."
After a brief comment on how Maedhros was doing decent but excellent is required of him, Feanor ended the conversation.
With a sigh, Maedhros ruminated on the conversation. That went precisely like how I expected. Father still disapproves. I should stall for time. Is there any way for me to distract him? Just a little longer, until Maglor can prove himself somewhat, broaching the topic with father again should go better by then. Could it really pursue him? Would Maglor be alright, truly? Had I just made a mistake? Father tends to be right most of the time though he can be harsh in his delivery. If I, in my misguided attempt to support Maglor, ended up causing irreversible harm to him then ... Maedhros's heart sank at the thought of harming Maglor.
Maedhros forced himself to put his turmoils to the side but was unsuccessful. He tucked the phone into his pocket, grabbed his favorite book and coat, and made his way across the campus. This year, spring had been unusually warm; sunlight spilled over the city contrasting sharply with the cutting wind of early March. They were entirely unnoticed by Maedhros. His steps were brisk and purposeful as he walked past the street, being as fast as he could without looking like something was nipping at his heels.
On the far side of the campus stood a majestic willow tree that caught his eyes the first time he toured the campus. Most students avoided it for the long branches created a chilling atmosphere. More than once, he had heard stories about some evil spirits or ghosts hiding in the branches, just waiting for people to notice and jump down at them. Yet, as Maedhros sat under its branches for the first time, he felt a fundamental sense of peace. The curtain of branches had blocked out the noises of campus, creating a separate world away from all the people, cars, and animals surrounding it.
The willow tree had shredded most of its green during the winter months and only a few scattering dots of newly grown buds emerged to replace it. The long, thin brownish branches cascaded down, thick enough to still form a curtain without most of its leaves. Maedhros pushed the hanging branches to the side. The grass underneath was barely presented, the coolness from the ground brushing his palms as he lowered himself but it was still dry enough to sit. He opened the book in his hand - a well-worn copy of the Iliad - to a random page. All the lines once familiar to him from countless reads were now as alien as a foreign language. Their meanings were always fleeting, escaping his mind and failing to bring him the peace he desired. The words and the tone of the father’s conversation refused to let him go. A shadow danced at the corner of his eyes, mistaking them for the moving shadow from the branches, he paid it no mind
“Not exactly light reading for a sunny afternoon”
A voice sliced through Maedhros’s spiraling thoughts. He jerked up, the book nearly slipping. His gaze found a man standing just a few feet away. Had he been standing there this whole time? He hadn’t noticed, caught up in his own thoughts. The stranger dressed in a dark suit and heavy overcoat, his long raven hair tied back— too formal for a campus afternoon. Was there some event today he’d overlooked? Maedhros wondered briefly but let the thought pass.
The man's amber eyes sparkled with quiet curiosity, his tone was calm and unhurried.
Maedhros, noticing himself staring, instinctively turned away and then back at the man. He hesitantly replied, “I guess it might be …but I’ve always found solace in this book.”
The man nodded, thoughtful “Poetry can be therapeutic and the grand tragedy has its charm. Though I lean toward works that dug deeper into the darker corners of the human mind”
Maedhros lowered his eyes for a moment before raising his eyebrows and replied “Like what?”
“Dostoevsky, for one. Crime and Punishment have this intensity. The guilt, the mental breakdown. It was a fascinating read. You might enjoy it.”
Maedhros shifted slightly, intrigued despite himself. “I haven’t read much Russian literature. Dostoevsky seems… heavy.”
“He is,” the man agreed, lips curving into a small smile. “But worth it. Something new can reinvigorate you. If you’re looking to distract yourself with literature, clinging to familiar works, like the well-worn copy in your hands however, may not be the suitable choice. What’s left to engage your mind when you already know every line by heart?”
Maedhros stilled, fingers tightening imperceptibly around the book. The casual remark felt too pointed as if this stranger could see straight through him.
Noticing the flicker of tension, the man’s expression softened. “Ah, forgive me. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just…” He glanced toward the drooping branches. “I tried to make my presence known earlier, but you were so lost in thought, that I figured speaking up was the only polite option.”
Maedhros hesitated, then exhaled quietly. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his body eased up. “There is no need to apologize. I should’ve noticed someone else was here. If anything, I was the one who disturbed your peaceful afternoon.”
The man chuckled, the sound low and smooth. “Not at all. It’s rare to find someone who appreciates this spot as much as I do.”
He extended a hand. “Melkor. I used to study here, though it’s been a while.”
Maedhros accepted the handshake, his grip firm but brief. The unexpected warmth of Melkor’s hand caught him off guard. His hand unconsciously tightened around his book but he offered a welcoming smile to Melkor “Maedhros. I hope that the place is still the place you were familiar with.”
Melkor looked around and said. “Barely anything has changed, except for the new library. The professors are still the same ones I had during my time here”
With a voice tingled with concerns, and his hand forward, he said “Maybe you should get up from the ground, it is still quite cold”
Maedhros took his hand and stood up. They moved to the nearby bench. They each seated themselves on opposite sides of the bench. Maedhros sat upright with the book on his lap and body slightly turned to observe his companion. Melkor lounged against the backrest, fingers tapping lazily on the armrest. His tone was light, and casual as he asked, "What draws you to The Iliad?'. The battles? The drama? Or just poetry?”
Maedhros thought for a moment before he spoke. “All of it, really. But, if I had to choose, then it would be how similar and different these larger-than-life characters were from us. They are as far away from us as possible with a completely alien view of the world. Yet, their emotions like grief, love, anger, and their motivations are so familiar.”
Melkor nodded, his amber eyes narrowing slightly, thoughtful. “True. But I've always thought there’s more to those stories—something beneath the surface, something deeper. The fallout of those emotions, the consequences they rarely show.”
“Maybe” Maedhros admitted, his fingers brushing the worn pages of the book. “But isn’t that part of what makes them timeless? The things they leave unsaid? Letting the audiences decide for themselves.”
Melkor tilted his head and looked at Maedhros. A faint smile played on his lips. “It leaves us wanting more. A taste, but never the full meal. Letting our imaginations run wild. Quite frustrating, isn’t it?”
Maedhros nodded his head then shook it, his voice firming. “Partially yes. It can be frustrating. Yet, it works better that way, in my perspective. The Iliad is an epic with multiple characters. Delving too deep into one would take away from the story being told. Familiarity breeds contempt, as they say. If we were to know every dark thought that may or may not cross someone’s mind, we might end up hating everyone equally.”
Melkor’s smile deepened “A fair point. These poems were meant to be performed as songs to people, to be remembered and passed down. Too much introspection muddied the waters.”
Maedhros stared into the distance, his expression was as calm as water. "Whether intentional or not, some things are best left unsaid.”
Melkor turned slightly to gaze at the distance “You believe firmly in preserving mystery, then. Even at the cost of understanding?”
“Yes. I find that there is a ... certain charm in not having the full story, or not looking too closely at a picture” Maedhros replied, carefully choosing his words. “Sometimes, understanding is pointless and…tedious.”
Melkor chuckled softly, the sound warm with a hint of understanding. “Ah, Politeness, truly the oil that keeps society running….” Something unknown flickered in his eyes for a brief moment before he continued “Though, there are situations where politeness is all but impossible. Such as the incident that started the whole war in the Iliad - the judgment of Paris. No matter the words, Paris would have to choose and anger two powerful goddesses. Politeness is out, the question is now what does he truly desire: love, power, or wisdom? If you were in his shoes, what would you choose?”
Truly desire? Maedhros tilted his head and ruminated on the subject before answering “I would be honest. Who else but the goddess of love and beauty for the title of 'the fairest'. Lovely Aphrodite whose charm could capture any heart, Exalted Hera whose grace is unmatched, and Clear-eyed Athena whose wisdom suffered no rival. The answer is as clear as day. It would have ended well if I lied about it. Gods, as you know, have little patience for falsehoods”
Melkor raised his eyebrow slightly, with a knowing smile he said. “Ah, honesty, then? It’s been so long since I’ve heard that term spoken with such... earnestness. You must have been a very good child. The truth is always harder to swallow and it goes against your stance on politeness, doesn't it?”
Maedhros’ gaze dropped for a brief moment, a faint flush coloring his ears as if the question had caught him off guard. He quickly regained his composure, turning toward Melkor with a steady gaze. “Normally, I wouldn't be commenting on one's appearance, particularly concerning gods, and might refused to participate outright, but if an answer must be given then it would be as truthful as it can be. Perhaps even refusing the bribe of all the goddesses to make that point clear.”
Melkor's smile still lingered on his face. His tone was light, almost teasing “I admire the honesty but I doubt the gods would be pleased. They were scarcely reasonable in the best of times. Worst case scenario, you earned the ire of the other two without the most beautiful woman for a wife. Quite the trade, isn't it?”
The reaction eased Maedhros somewhat and he replied softly “I certainly hope that my honesty would endear me enough to them and help me escape the matter. If that doesn't work then the question remains: what would be the best answer that didn’t offend anyone? Is there a loophole? Zeus really dodged a bullet by pushing it to Paris”
“Do you think if he just handed the apple to Zeus and said that he was the fairest? The problem would be solved?” Melkor's joyous expression never wavered, he leaned closer to Maedhros.
Maedhros, feeling a bit bolder, replied with a grin, “Wouldn’t that be considered an insult to Zeus? ‘As a thank you for dragging me into this, I declare to the whole world that you, the master of Olympus, is the fairest of them all, every woman's man and every man's woman. Zeus, you dick.’ That is certainly a bold answer and a ticket to being turned into a plant or animal for his cheekiness.”
Melkor shrugged “Not so blatantly. Add in a hefty dose of flattery and it could work. Something like,’To Zeus, the wise master of Olympus and King to the eternal realm these fair goddesses resided in, there is nothing fairer than you and your realm.’ Paris may have intended that as a subtle insult to Zeus but the flattery would cover his track”
“Such cleverness. As the reward for your flowery words, you will live eternally in this land. Don't think I didn't notice the little insult Mr. I have done this much earlier and longer than you. Our poor Paris got turned into a flower of some kind in Olympus. Then we would have a cautionary tale about trying to be cheeky” Maedhros put on his best haughty expression and acted with exaggeration.
Both of them burst out laughing at how ridiculous Maedhros’s interpretation of Zeus sounded. Finally, Melkor spoke again, his voice lighter “Safe to say, there is no fool-proof plan out of this. If I must be damned then I'll at least have one final insult for Zeus. Even an impulsive decision, upon further pondering, can have a comprehensive reasoning behind it, both yours and mine. Remember the book I mentioned earlier - Crime and Punishment? You may find the reasoning utterly mad but Dostoevsky did such a masterful job that you can follow the logic behind it. It is utterly fascinating. I cannot recommend it enough”
“Such a high recommendation, I’ll find the time to read it.”
“I hope you will fall in love with the author's works as I did. It may sound hypocritical, calling the Iliad too heavy for an afternoon read and then suggesting Russian literature where the most famous works weigh a brick but I wouldn't recommend it if I hadn't enjoyed it myself. I once went through a phase where I was obsessed with them.”
“Oh, no need to apologize. I am not against trying new things. Judging by your enjoyment of the books, I might have to thank you later for the recommendation. And I too can be overtly passionate on certain subjects”
“That would be?”
“Chess. It is a hobby of mine, get quite good at it. Very competitive too.”
They continued on with the conversation like they were a pair of good friends. Despite the unexpectedness, Maedhros had achieved what he set out to do - distracting himself from his trouble. Talking to Melkor was an enchanting experience, they moved seamlessly from one subject to another. The more the conversation went on the more Maedhros admired the depth of Melkor's interests. Though both stayed clear of more personal subjects, by the end, Maedhros had moved much closer from his initial place on the other side of the bench.
Noticing that the street light was on, Melkor said to Maedhros “I would love nothing more than to talk further but it is getting colder, I think we should head home before the sun fully sets.” He rose to his feet and offered “May I walk with you back through campus, it is not often I get a chance to revisit this place?”
“It wouldn't be a problem at all.” Maedhros picked up the book he had set aside during the conversation and they headed back to campus.
They walked side by side, their conversation continuing. When they reached Maedhros’s building, there was a brief pause as he hesitated, unsure how to end the encounter.
Finally, he said “Thank you. For the company.”
Melkor smiled, his amber eyes gleaming “The pleasure was mine. Perhaps we could continue our discussion sometime over coffee?”
“I'd like that” Maedhros replied.
They exchanged numbers and Maedhros turned to head inside. Melkor stood there for a while watching him with a strange look before leaving.
Maedhros walked through the much warmer hallway, shielded from the crisp wind outside, his mind buzzing from an afternoon full of conversations. He hadn't felt this light in weeks.
Once he finally reached his apartment, a familiar voice rang out behind him.
“Hey, Maitimo! You're back late.”
He turned to see his cousin Aredhel standing behind him, struggling to hold a huge bag of cat food and her bag. Maedhros hurriedly held up the bag of cat food for her so that she could look for her key.
“Yeah,” he replied “Got caught up in a conversation with someone and lost track of time.”
Aredhel finally managed to find her keys, unlocked the door, and put down her bag before returning to take cat food from him. Moriel, Aredhel's cat had come to greet them with a meow. Aredhel raised an eyebrow at him curiously and asked “Someone interesting?”
“Yes” Maedhros said without adding any further detail, a small smile crept onto his face.
His cousin gave him a look before kneeling down to pet Moriel. “I won't pry. I am glad that you had a good afternoon. You have been stressed lately with Maglor and Uncle Feanor, right?”
“Was it that obvious?” Maedhros curiously asked.
“Yes, I haven't seen you smile for weeks since Maglor decided to go rogue” Aredhel picked up Moriel and looked at him sympathetically “Uncle Feanor must be nagging you a lot. Just ignore him. Maglor can decide his own life. You are his brother, not his father”
“Thanks for the support, but I don't think I could ignore my father that long. He can be abnormally persistent when he wants to be” Maedhros suddenly found the floor exceedingly interesting before gazing back up and smiling at her “I'll figure it out. The last resort of talking to my mother and getting father off my back is always on the table. Don't worry. You should bring Moriel over sometimes, I can make her some cookies while we work on your statistic homework”
Maedhros couldn't help but pet Moriel’s fluffy little head. Moriel rubbed at him affectionately and gave him a sweet meow while Maedhros cooed at her.
“Can we not talk about that, I don't want to think about Professor Charleston. I’d be happy with just barely passing her course” Aredhel winced at the reminder of her most hated professor.
“I'll give you my notes on her course if you want. But come over anyway, schoolwork can't be the only topic we talk about. I am sure you have plenty of gossip to share”
“Now that you remind me. I have been following a pretty exciting story. I'll come over on the weekend”
“I'll be waiting for Moriel then. 6.pm?”
“6.pm”
When he was finally alone in his apartment, a sense of normalcy washed over him. The weight that had been pressing on his chest had diminished somewhat after the afternoon.
Maybe he has been overthinking it with Maglor and his father. Maglor is his own man, not a child that needs directions. Maedhros can't be expected to take over the work of his father. Let's father persuade Maglor if he so wishes. It would distract him somewhat from his latest quarrel with Uncle Fingolfin. Maedhros thought while preparing himself a cup of tea. With his mind refreshed, it was best that he finished as much homework as possible so he could focus on the next debate topic tomorrow. He could borrow a copy of Crime and Punishment when he visits the library the next time. After all, his new friend has so enthusiastically recommended it.