Who: Fingon & Maedhros What: Drinking wine and trying to cheer up. Where: Fingon's room. When: Shortly after this. Warnings | Status: It might be a tear jerker | in progress
Maedhros was the oldest brother of seven and a slue of numerous cousins that he sometimes opted not to bother remembering or counting. But as such he grew up with an inherent sense of responsibility for them, and that included looking after their wellbeing and their personal happiness. His father might not have cared for the sons of Indis or their subsequent children but it was never a trait Maedhros inherited. He felt concern for them, worried about them, and generally sought to see them happy. Especially Fingon, who was his dearest friend, and the one closest to his heart. It worried Maedhros that his friend could be so depressed and despondent in this place. He was concerned Fingon would be overtaken by grief; for the Eldar race could die of wounds of the spirit and the heart.
He did not want him passing from this world or becoming a houseless spirit, lost to them forever. He could never live with himself if that were to happen. So maybe it was more selfishness than anything that drove him from his rooms and to the door next to his own. Maybe it was selfishness and absolute love of Fingon. Maedhros didn't know and he also didn't question it.
Indeed, he rapped just briefly on the door and waited just long enough to be admitted despite not previously announcing his intentions to visit. He met his friend's grey eyes with the smoldering depths of his own and took him in a tight embrace before his cousin could speak. As one of the Eldar he was not ashamed to feel emotion, or indeed to weep for it. But he held his tears in check and merely curled his working hand into the depths of Fingon's dark hair, holding him close.