Transparent

Mellow Soulmate AU.  Caranthir is hopelessly in love and everyone knows it.  They also know it will probably end badly.  Takes place in First Age. Quenya names used. Maitimo and Nelyo refer to Maedhros. Makalaurë and Káno refer to Maglor. Carnistir and Moryo refer to Caranthir.

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns them.  If I owned them, obviously things would have ended differently.

Pairings: Caranthir x Haleth (of the Haladin) and mentions Maglor and his wife (OC), though the fic is more general with a focus on brother-bonding.

Characters: Maglor, Caranthir, Maedhros, Haleth, (Vardamírë (OC) mentioned)

Warning: AU, character death, mentions of violence, angst/tragedy

Song: Love and Betrayal

Words: 1,160
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transparent (adjective): easily detected or seen through: obvious
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/transparent

"He is completely smitten."

From their vantage point, Maitimo and Makalaurë could both see their brother sitting before the fire, staring into the dancing flames with bright, distant eyes, seeing something beyond the vibrant golden glow, far off in the distance.

To be honest, he had been this way for days, ever since returning from rescuing the small settlement of men on the outskirts of his land.  Carnistir had never been exceptional at hiding his feelings; they were written plain as day on his face, in his flushed cheeks and the reddened tips of his ears and the shy little grin he wore when he sighed heavily into the distance.

It was worrying.

"I know," Makalaurë whispered, not daring to look into Maitimo's eyes, knowing he would see the disapproval that he wished his brother would hide better.

After a few minutes of silent observation, he glanced towards the redhead. "He cannot control who he falls in love with, as you well know.  It is just how the world works."

"He came back from rescuing a hoard of men," Maitimo grumbled. "I doubt it was an elf-maiden that he lost his heart to.  This mess will lead nowhere but to a bitter, tear-filled ending; you cannot deny that much."

No, he could not.  It would not end well.  Love between one of the Eldar and one of the Atani never ended well, though it did not oft happen, thankfully.

"Have you spoken to him about it?" Makalaurë whispered.

"No."

"You ought to." Twiddling his fingers, he wished for his harp desperately.  Feeling the sweet strings beneath his fingers would have soothed the anxiety swiftly building in his throat. "What if the atan was his--?"

A sharp look interrupted him. "Do not even think it!"

The anger was misplaced, but Makalaurë understood.  His brother would much rather be angry than be caught in a web of despair; such was the way of many of his people.  Makalaurë was not prone to raging, though.  He had his mother's temperament, and after the initial burst of fury he fell into sadness all too quickly.  Maitimo had their father's stubbornness through and through.

"It is something that needs to be addressed," he pressed forth. "Talk to him, Nelyo."

"I will have no more of this foolishness!" Maitimo stood and swept away, scowling darkly, reminding Makalaurë all too sharply of their father.

For several more minutes, he sat and watched Carnistir pining.  It was all too clear, the love that filled his little brother's heart and soul. Transparent as his face.  And then he stood, making his way over to seat himself beside the fourth brother.  Carnistir did not even look up at him.

"Moryo?" he asked softly.

Green eyes glanced up from a surprised face. "Káno, I didn't see you!"

The older of the two smiled gently.  Carnistir seemed happier, lighter than usual.  Rather than scowling, he had a tiny smile perched at the corners of his lips. "You have been distracted," he said softly. "Will you tell me whom has your attention captured so?"

The flush on his brother's cheeks darkened to the red he was named for. "I-I don't know what you are speaking of!" he replied far too quickly, looking away shyly.  He was a horrible liar.

"Tell me."

The younger wrung his hands and looked down at his feet. "She is amazing," he finally said. "A true warrior willing to defend her people to her last breath.  I do not think I have ever seen anyone so beautiful in my life!" He sounded almost breathless as he spoke of her. "Is this how you felt when you met Vardamírë for the first time?  Like you cannot bear to look away for even a second?"

Sadly, Makalaurë smiled. "Quite the same," he agreed. "She is the One, then?"

Eagerly, his brother nodded, looking so pleased, so hopeful.  It almost broke Makalaurë's heart, because he knew Maitimo was right.  Loving a mortal could end in nothing but sadness.

"I wish you luck," he murmured.

Carnistir, his bashful, awkward brother, grinned shyly and went red again. "Thank you."

---

It could not have been prevented.  That was what Makalaurë told himself when he found Carnistir looking as though the world balanced on his shoulders.  Head bowed, he sat again before the fire, and he was not smiling.

When Makalaurë sat, Carnistir looked up with sad eyes. "She does not want me, Káno."

"I am sorry." He wished he could do something to make it better, but broken hearts could not be mended with words.  All he could do was allow Carnistir to lean on his shoulder and silently weep.  When he looked up, his eyes met those of his older brother, who stood in the doorway looking pained.

He shook his head, and Maitimo departed without speaking a word.

---

They had all become accustomed to Carnistir's moods.  Eventually, he did return to some semblance of himself, but he was obviously changed.  It couldn't be denied that he was still hopelessly in love, still pining away for a mortal who stepped closer and closer to death's door every year.  How old was she now?  How many years did she have left?  It had been near forty years since Carnistir had wept on his shoulder, heartbroken.  The Atani did not live very long, usually not even a century...

Their younger brother was madder by the day, and more black-hearted.  He had never been sympathetic and always had been quick to anger without knowledge of the subtlety of words.

Now, he would raise his voice over the smallest things.  He was increasingly violent and took delight in hunting down the orcs that haunted his plains.  Whenever Makalaurë visited, he always felt that sickening quiver in his belly at the blood-thirst of his younger brother, at the joy he seemed to take in wrathful vengeance and destruction.

But still, Carnistir could not hide the distant looks of longing.  In the moments when he was calmest, he was also sad, and Makalaurë thought perhaps there was more of Nerdanel in the fourth brother than any of them had guessed.

When the day came, he knew as soon as he looked into those eyes, green and broken.

There were no words.  Carnistir came to him, forty-two years after he had disastrously fallen for a human woman who did not return his love, and he wept like a child, loud and wet without shame.

Makalaurë knew that she had passed beyond the edges of the world, and the last little bit of hope that lingered within his brother was dead.  When he looked into the red-rimmed green eyes, staring blankly up at him, it was plain as day.  Transparent.

The Carnistir he knew was gone, and he didn't think his brother would ever recover, could ever be put back together.

And all Makalaurë could do was watch and helplessly despair. 
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I know in Tolkien's head-canon Caranthir was probably married to some elf-chick, but I can't help myself.  dA has immortalized this pairing for me. Have a look at 3 Words by ~greenapplefreak on dA (other cool Tolkien stuff in this gallery as well).

I have a modern-day story with these two that has a bittersweet ending that I haven't finished yet.  You see, there's this interesting thing called reincarnation...

In any case, the song that made this into an angst piece instead of a fluffy creature: Love and Betrayal by Future World Music.