would you still love me if I was half-fish?
“Would you still love me if I was half-fish?”
“If you were what?” Maitimo struggles to sit up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
It is late; he can tell from the darkness pressing against their tent that Makalaurë has, again, woken him up well before the Mingling of the Two Trees. He can hear the sound of rain tapping gently against the canvas walls; wishes he could be in one of the other tents with family members who wouldn’t shake him awake with nonsense questions. My own fault, he thinks. Fëanáro had given him the choice of having his own, private tent, now that Maitimo was one hundred years old and could be trusted to carry it himself. But Makalaurë’s eyes had filled with tears at the mere suggestion, and so Maitimo had decided to share.
A choice I am very much regretting now.
“Half-fish,” says Makalaurë.
“Laurë, what are you talking about?”
“I dreamt,” he says, his voice far-away and oddly afraid, “that after years of ill-deeds, Ulmo sought vengeance upon me for the evil I had done, and so used his power to change me into a - a creature. Half of the sea, half of the Eldar, able to belong to neither.”
“A tail would make for useful swimming.” He does not give into his little brother’s melodramatics, keeping his own words as dry as possible as he closes his eyes and deliberately turns his body away from Makalaurë.
It doesn’t work. Makalaurë continues on, either oblivious or ignoring Maitimo’s wish to go back to sleep. “But that was the worst of it!” he says. “For the part which was Eldar were my legs, graceful and long -
“ - I know this is a dream you’ve had if you’re imagining yourself as tall - ”
“ - but my upper body, my torso and face, were that of an ugly fish. A singing toadfish, Nelyo! One of those spiky, strange coloured, grumpy looking things!”
Maitimo sighs, turning over so that he can see his brother. Makalaurë is frowning at him, making a grumpy expression that probably would suit a singing toadfish, but Maitimo keeps that bit of information to himself. “And was I also this strange half-fish creature?” asks Maitimo. “Did we cause mischief on the shores of Valinor together?’
“No,” said Makalaurë, his voice furious and small and threatening tears. “You were not there. You left me.”
Ah. This, then, is the heart of the dream, transforming it into a nightmare. An easy fix. Maitimo wraps an arm around Makalaurë and pulls him in close. “I would love you if you were half-fish or full or even a crab,” he promises, kissing the top of his head. “I will love you no matter what. Now go to sleep, little brother, and if my dreams are filled with the images of what you’ve been rambling on about, I am throwing you into the first pond I see.”
[I've been loving the 'reverse mermaid' trend that's been happening the past few days (thank you @peasant-player!) and so I couldn't resist writing a little something inspired by it!]
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