Title: A Matter of Pride Author: Miss Andais Pairing: Fingon/Maedhros Rating: NC-17 email: stars_at_midnight1972@yahoo.com Disclaimer: Not mine, they’re Tolkien’s, I’m just tormenting them a little for a while. Warnings: Non-con, BDSM implications Summary: Everyone always thinks that Fingon rescued his cousin out of caring, but what if he didn’t? Author’s note: I am not a slash writer as such. This was an idea that came to me after a long, boring night at work. If you like it, I thank you. If you don’t, well, I’d as soon not receive flaming mail thanks. Anything within asterisks are either thoughts or emphasized words in the event that the italics didn’t survive the conversion. When I rescued my cousin from the hell of Thangorodrim, the others thought me brave indeed for daring to go into Morgoth’s territory alone but they also wondered why I had bothered. Why rescue a son of Feanor? Why brave such dangerous grounds for one so unworthy of it? Unworthy. A fitting word for him, but I had plans for the tall, beautiful redhead. Oh yes, I had plans for Maedhros. I would just have to bide my time and wait for him to heal. Months passed while he recovered from his thirty years in Morgoth’s tender care, and I waited. I watched from a distance, saw the pitiful, gaunt form grow back into the muscled warrior I’d known from Aman. Feanor’s fiery spirit burned once again in his eldest son, I knew. I wanted to tap that spirit. I wanted to yank it out, to drown it and see how long it took to rekindle. *Patience,* I reminded myself, smiling faintly as I watched him struggle to learn how to get along with only one hand. I took his right one on Thangorodrim. The manacle Morgoth hung him by would not break; I was left with little other choice in the matter. Could I have picked the lock perhaps? Maybe so. I was in a hurry to get out of there ,though, and Maedhros was in no position to argue with me over the method I used to free him. I must admit, a small, dark part of me smiled to hear him cry out when I severed his wrist . . . A year went by, and Maedhros made a full recovery. He had changed, though. There was a look in those grey eyes now, a fell light that turned many away from him. It didn’t turn me away. I was not afraid. I had never been afraid of fire, of being burned. I went to him late one evening, after his brothers had gone on to other ventures and left Maedhros alone in the chill of the growing night. He was surprised to see me that late, but glad enough of my company. “Here, cousin, come warm yourself by the fire,” he offered, motioning to the remaining chair. *Warm myself by the fire,* I mused, quietly taking my seat by him. *What an interesting choice of words, Maedhros.* Those luminous grey eyes sought out my own, a question in them. “What brings you by at this hour, Fingon?” he asked me. “I merely wanted to visit my favorite cousin,” I replied blandly, fighting to keep the growl out of my voice. *Control,* I scolded myself. * Don’t give yourself away.* “How fare you, Maedhros?” He glanced at me, puzzled by my words. “I am well enough, Fingon,” he replied. “And yourself?” I lifted one inky eyebrow, staring into the flames. “I am well.” Looking toward him again, I studied his profile. *You’re a beautiful thing, cousin,* I reflected. *A perfect mesh of feminine and masculine features, with that waterfall of dark-red silk to set off your porcelain skin and pewter eyes.* “Do you still wish I had killed you, Maedhros?” This time there was no mistaking the look of shock in those amazing grey eyes as he stared at me. “Fingon, I don’t understand”-- “Tell me something, Maedhros,” I interrupted, looking into the fire again. “What did you think about while you hung there all those years? What went through your mind?” I glanced at him. “Did you believe we had left you to rot there?” “I . . . I did believe that in the end,” he admitted softly, looking down into his lap. “Fingon, I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly for sparing me – I know I begged you to end my life but I’m grateful that you did not.” “That doesn’t answer my question,” I pointed out calmly. Those grey eyes were growing uneasy now, as he looked at me sitting there beside him so calmly, asking him such strange questions. “I thought about many things, cousin,” he answered at last. “About my brothers, about whether Morgoth could be defeated, about the Oath we swore.” “Did you never think of me then?” I asked. *Selfish bastard; of course you wouldn’t think of your cousin freezing on the bloody ice,* I hissed silently. Maedhros turned to look at me fully then, his eyes widened slightly. “I thought you and your father would turn back, Fingon. I never imagined you would cross the ice,” he expressed. “I am sorrier than you will ever know for what you must have gone through – I tried to get Father to send the ships back but he refused. I did not stand and watch them burn. I could not bear to.” I looked dead at him, looked past those grey eyes and into his soul. “I crossed that damned hell-ice to be at your side again, dearest cousin, and this is the thanks that I get?” I growled, unable to control myself any longer. “What do you want from me?” he asked, an apprehensive note in his voice. “Findekano, I swore I thought you would turn back and not press on!” “I did though,” I stated clearly, reveling in his unease. He had always been the one in control in the past – now it was my turn. “I crossed that ice with my father and my brother, Maitimo. I saw Elenwe fall into it to die. I saw children killed by the cold and the rising and falling of the ice. I saw my kin die, Maitimo. Do you hear me? I watched them die, and could do nothing to save them. What do you think that did to me?” He swallowed hard, blinking. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, unable to say anything else. “I can’t imagine the horror you went through in the crossing.” I laughed, a fey sound even to my own ears. “No, I don’t imagine you can,” I said. “You asked what I wanted from you.” I turned to look him dead in those grey eyes of his. “I want your pain, Maedhros. I want your suffering, if only for one night.” “I don’t understand,” he told me. “You will. Come with me.” I took him back to Father’s keep, sneaking him in the back way to avoid being seen by the servants or the guards, taking him directly to my chambers and bolting the doors tight behind us. My room had already been prepared earlier for his arrival. All I needed was to convince him to come with me somehow. Maedhros looked around the room in stunned silence. “Cousin – what is the meaning of this?” he breathed, not wanting to believe what he was seeing in my chambers. Smiling, I walked up to him, right up into his face. “You’ll soon find out, my pretty cousin,” I purred dangerously. “Now strip.” At once he straightened, his brow furrowed in indignant anger. “Who are you to”-- I interrupted his tirade with a slap, one eyebrow raised. “You came here of your own free will, cousin,” I informed him. “I told you what I wanted from you. Either do what I say, or I will call my brother in to help me.” I wouldn’t have really done that but he didn’t know, now did he? Holding his cheek where I had struck him, he glared down at me. “You would not dare.” “Try me, Maitimo.” For a second I believed he would call my bluff, but grudgingly he began removing his clothes and boots. Twin spots of color in his cheeks, he laid his tunic and leggings over the trunk near him and stood before me nude. “Are you satisfied now?” he hissed. I looked him over slowly, ignoring the venom in his gaze as he watched me. *By the Valar, he’s a beautiful thing,* I echoed, admiring the well-defined, muscular body. “Not quite,” I told him. “Turn around and give me your arms.” Sighing in annoyance, he turned his back to me and put both arms behind him. Quickly and efficiently I placed the leather cuffs about his arms just above the elbow and fastened them together so he couldn’t move them. “There, that should work for now,” I murmured. He struggled against them at once, and upon finding himself bound he began to curse me softly. “You fucking depraved bastard – I know not what madness has taken you but I will pay you back in full for this insult.” “You abandoned me, Maitimo,” I reminded him. “You were supposed to be my best friend, and you left me to die.” Putting my hand in the center of his back, I pushed him roughly over to the bed. “Bend down.” “Fuck you,” he spat. Sighing to myself, I picked up the wooden paddle and struck him soundly with it. His yelp of surprise made me smile some, but I didn’t strike him again just yet. “Bend down,” I ordered again. Muttering under his breath, Maedhros leaned down over the bed, his hair pooling on the covers around him. The sight of that perfect, firm ass was enough to make my mouth go dry. *Oh yes, I am going to enjoy this*, I told myself, and raised the paddle once more to strike him with it. He gasped, but didn’t struggle against it, surprising me some. “Count the blows,” I told him clearly. “What?” I struck him hard this time. “You fucking well heard me, so don’t give me that innocent shit,” I snarled. “Count! And if you open that mouth again without permission, I’ll make you regret it.” *Smack!* “One.” *Smack!* “Two – Findekano, why are you”-- I paddled him without pause for the infraction, raising him onto his toes and making him cry out. After the tenth blow, I stopped to run my hand over his heated flesh and heard him hiss softly. “I warned you, Maitimo,” I murmured. He remained silent, another shock. I was sure that arrogant streak would surface, make him speak again. Or was that just wishful thinking so I could spank him like I really wanted to? Taking a deep breath, I regained my bearings and resumed paddling him. My cousin was resilient, I had to give him that. He endured nearly one hundred blows before I heard his voice crack, heard the first edge of pain and shame make itself known. Smirking, I put aside the paddle and picked up the cane next. *After this, then I’ll give him the real test*, I told myself, admiring the reddened flesh before me. Not giving him much time to get his bearings, I struck him lightly with the cane to see how he reacted. Maedhros yelped, writhing and fighting not to go to his knees. “Hurts a bit, does it?” I mused. When he didn’t answer me, I struck him hard across the more tender part of his ass. “Yes!” he cried at once, twisting his head around to look back at me through wide, teary eyes. The indignant, angry look was long gone now, replaced by a sort of growing fear at what new torture I would inflict upon him. *I want to hear you cry for me, Maitimo,* I thought viciously, and struck him sharply again. *I want to see you break before me. I want your pain, you selfish bastard.* It took a couple more blows, but finally I heard him choke back a sob. Smiling wickedly to myself, I caned him for a while more, enjoying the sound of his pain and torment at my hands. When I had him crying openly into the velvet coverlet, I set the cane aside and reached for the decanter of oil. My eyes on the cleft of his ass, I tipped it up a little and watched the oil slither down between his cheeks. “Ai! What”-- I struck him with my free hand for speaking. “I didn’t give you leave to speak,” I growled, and oiled my first three fingers. Setting the oil aside, I centered my forefinger against his opening and pushed into him before he could figure out my intent. Maedhros shuddered hard at the violation, his muscles clenching around my finger at once, and a ragged cry left him. Writhing once more, he went to his knees to get away from me and tried to sit on his heels to hide that part of him from me. It didn’t work. I grabbed a handful of his hair and hauled him back to his feet, pinning him against the bed so he couldn’t drop to the floor again. “If you try that again, I’ll tie you down to the fucking bed,” I warned. Kicking his legs further apart, I thrust my finger back into the tight heat of his body and pulled a startled shriek from his lips. “Silence! Make another sound and I’ll give you over to the entire guard to take their pleasure from you!” Panting for breath, Maedhros twisted his head around to give me a pleading look. “That doesn’t work on me,” I informed him, and twisted my finger inside him to locate his gland. Finding it, I began stroking it hard and fast, my eyes flicking from his face to the sight of my finger buried in his ass. I was hard – ai, was I hard – but I would not take my pleasure from him just yet. I wanted to make him suffer a while longer . . . It took some time, but eventually I heard him utter a soft, sobbing moan. Smiling, I inserted my middle finger as well and worked him with both of them. As his breathing deepened and the moans grew louder, I quickened the rhythm. Right before he spilled his seed on my covers, I pulled my fingers free of him and watched him squirm. Those grey eyes, wet with tears, rolled back to me in a silent, impassioned plea. *Please,* the look said. *Finish me.* “This isn’t about you, foolish Elf,” I told him, swatting his ass with my free hand. A ragged groan left him at those words, and more tears spilled forth to soak into the velvet beneath him. I smiled, and it wasn’t nice. “You cry so prettily, Maitimo.” A blush crept to the tips of his ears, but he remained silent. When enough time had passed, I inserted my fingers back into the heat of his body to tease him all over again. I did this for the next half hour, backing off just before he attained his release and verbally abusing him for enjoying what I did to him. “You’re nothing but a pretty whore, do you know that?” I taunted, but got no response. Finally I could stand it no longer. Freeing my cock, I slicked it with the oil and took him. Fucking hell, he was so tight! Ai, Elbereth, if there was one thing I was sure of about Maedhros it was that he had *never* lain with a male, not the way he felt wrapped around my hardened length. Grabbing his hips hard, I pounded myself into him, giving little thought to his comfort or pleasure. As aroused as I was, I did not last long inside him. It mattered not to me though; he was not my lover and never would be. This was merely a test, an experiment to see what he could and would endure for the sake of friendship. Or was friendship the right word? I wasn’t sure of that now . . . Pulling my softened cock free of him, I glanced to see if he had attained his release or not. I hadn’t felt him spasm around me, but that meant little. Seeing that he was still hard, I smirked and tucked myself back into my leggings. Not saying a word to him, I removed the chain and leather that bound his arms and waited to see what he would do. Maedhros turned around and went to his knees, clutching at my legs. “Findekano . . . please,” he begged softly, rubbing his face against my abdomen. “Please what, Maitimo?” I quizzed, my tone sounding bored even to my own ears. “I . . .” He trailed off, blushing again. His head bowed so I could not see him, he shivered against me and finished what he started to say. “I want you to fuck me . . . to finish me off.” I laughed at him, shoving him down on the floor. “You’re not fit for me to fuck, Maitimo – you’re tainted,” I spat. “This was just a game for me, to see how far you’d go. Now I have my answer, so get dressed and get the hell out. I’m sure you can find your own way home.” Grey eyes, wide with shock, looked up at me. “You cannot mean that,” he breathed. “Try me,” I said. “Get out, Maitimo. You’re not welcome here. You’ll never be welcome here again.” A genuinely hurt look on his face, he got to his feet and began the slow, clumsy process of dressing himself. I didn’t move to help him, though I could have. I didn’t want to touch him again. As he finished dressing and walked to the door, I sighed. “Know you this, Maitimo,” I called. “I may fight Morgoth with you, but I will never fight *for* you again.”