Characters: Celvandil (OMC); Maedhros, son of Feanor
Disclaimer: The framework (and the horses) are Tolkien's; Himring did a bit of inferring.
A/N: Double drabble, no pun. Setting: in Himring.
'About the dun.'
'Maglor's stallion--the one that won over the longest distance.'
'Ah yes, I've congratulated my brother on his victory.'
'You should ask to borrow him for a season, my lord. To improve our bloodlines...'
An unexpected silence.
'Ah, by the way. Speaking of which, Celvandil. I've been meaning to ask: Himring, stuck up on a high rock. Not so much scope here for a man of your talents? There would be more for you at the Gap. Or even--in Hithlum, with Fingon.'
News about the success of Fingon's riders against the dragon has recently reached them.
'My lord! I can see you're casting about for gifts to give your cousin along with that dwarven helmet. But I am not a gift! I cannot be given!'
Speaking as firmly as possible. Fingon's horses might be faster, Maglor's sturdier, but Celvandil has helped to build Himring with his own hands. He has a stake in this place and its people.
He hadn't guessed how much Maedhros shared his feelings on the matter until he see the relief on his lord's face.
'Ah, right. Good,' the lord of Himring says, 'I'll just ask my brother about the dun, then.'
A/N: "That dwarven helmet" is the Dragon Helm of Dor-lomin, originally given by King Azaghal to Maedhros and then by Maedhros to his cousin Fingon, after Fingon and his riders had temporarily defeated the first dragon.