bythewaves | IC Inbox [Eachdraidh]

[Hi dad, calling you up to make sure you don't try and skip out on watching (since you can't be there easily) the wedding ~~take two~~]

As I am certain you are aware, Celebrian and I have been given the use of the great hall here, along with musicians and a feast.

[A pause, a brief glance down, then he returns his gaze to the locket with a hopeful smile.]

I was hoping you would give us a song as a gift.

[ it takes a while before he can control his emotions enough to answer but eventually... ]

I had heard - my congratulations, Elrond. [ still. deliberately trying to distance himself ]

I... would be honored to gift you both so, and will do my best.

[If he didn't love you, Maglor...He understands, though. But he won't allow this distance any more than the physical distance forced upon him.]

I expect nothing less than your best, with as much skill as you hold. If you could come, you know I would ask it of you.

[But they both know that is not exactly practical, even here. And the sorrow of that is clear in his eyes as he looks earnestly at the older elf.]

For you, I would offer nothing less.

[ he manages a smile back, sad and small ]

I know you would. [ but he does not say if he would accept ]

[...Don't make him come to you, Maglor. He will. For now though, he nods just a little.]

...Perhaps... [No, it sounded stupid. Childish, even. But it might just further prove he did miss his foster parent.]

I would wish to see you. Not just through these lockets. As I said before, it has been quite some time since I saw you in person.

[ if you do he will D= at you and send you right back ]

I... [ he bites his lip and looks away until he regains control.

if your family were to defect and slay their Seelie brothers and sisters, I would allow you to live with them in La Llorona in peace she said to one, and to Celegorm If you turned your Seelie family against their foolish rulers, I would let you house them in La Llorona as guardians of the forest. and Celegorm had smiled up at her, as he once smiled for Father, obedient and golden.

No, he cannot permit this. ]

It is not safe. You did not hear, Elrond, what our Queen spoke of in her audience. You must not ever come here.

Edited 2014-04-30 05:27 (UTC)

[But would it be in time?

Elrond frowns a little, listening. Maglor's never really lied to him, not where it matters. He knows the other elf truly has his best interest at heart now. Even if he's a bit overprotective. Even now.

Not safe.]

Then some other, neutral, location.

[ if it keeps Elrond alive and safe Maglor would argue he's being exactly as protective as needed ]

[ Yes he wants to answer and yet... ]

Is there any place truly neutral here? I... if it was safe...perhaps.

[As a father, Elrond understands Maglor's caution. Yet...]

There is a station, as it is called, that might just be safe. Alternatively...perhaps we could find somewhere hidden.

[ Maglor bites his lip, visibly torn ]

The Station. Yes, I had heard. There is one there I promised to meet, for he may not leave the grounds. Yet it lies within our lands moreso than yours, if I read the maps aright, and the journey may be perilous, the return one, moreso.

[Danger. When he knows full well Celebrian would be furious if he were harmed. But. He shakes his head a little, determined.]

I will not be taken easily, should I come across unfriendly individuals.

[ Maglor shakes his head ]

I do not doubt you would fight. I only... I do not wish you harmed because of me, Elrond.

[He fights a sigh, gaze dropping a little before resttling firmly on Maglor.]

I know, adar.

[ He shakes his head almost violently ]

Do not...! Oh, please, do not. You have to stay away Elrond.

[He reaches up to brush fingertips over the edge of the locket, brow furrowing at the fervent plea.]

I...I cannot make such a promise. I do not know what will come of this war.

[ Maglor's hand comes up to mirror him on the other side, as if they could reach each other through the mirror ]

Then only promise me you will stay safe. Only that, y... Elrond. It was for that reason that I sent you away.

[It's the best they can manage, small as it was. More than he'd had with Maglor in centuries. At least he can speak with him now.]

Of that, I promise with all my heart, ada.

[ You should not call me that is on the tip of his tongue, but he has never been able to say it, not then, and not now, and is this not one more sin, that he stole this ellon from his true family? ]

Then with that I will content myself.

Edited 2014-05-24 08:33 (UTC)

[Centuries of habit would not be easily broken. It's far too late for Elrond to not think of Maglor as 'dad'. And he doesn't want to stop.]

You must promise the same. That you will keep safe. For me.

I do not know if I can Elrond, not with Celegorm here. [ I have to protect him, this time hangs unspoken I have to try ]

But I will do my best.

[He slowly nods. That much he can understand.]

I feel the same, with Celebrian here. I am content with try.

[Though he has no intention of explaining why, or details. He'd not even told his beloved what is in store for her.]

Then we will both try our best, I suppose. [ he brushes across the mirror again ]

You have so much to live for Elrond. If any might heed my prayers I would pray only for your happiness.

[A return touch.] Yes.

... [A breath and he smiles again, though a touch of worry and sorrow is in his eyes.] They have been.

May the days always bring more joy than sorrow. [ A prayer, and a wish, and a blessing ]

[All in one, all nearly catch his breath. But he rallies himself, the smile warming.]

As it should be sought, even - especially in times of war.

Who would heed a kinslayer? Yet for you sake I pray that it be so. Be well, Elrond.

Who? Who but myself?

[He knows what was intended by that, though he refuses to easily allow Maglor's self deprecation.]

And you, ada.

[ A small, almost wry shake of his head but Maglor manages something of a smile before he reaches to turn off the feed ]

So stubborn. [ he murmurs fondly in farewell ]

[Maglor might hear the start of a laugh before the feed ends.]

[Maglor's locket chimes in the dead of the night; or in other words, after enough hours have passed for Fëanor to acquaint himself with the castle and fail to find any of those whome he was looking for ...and to realize that not only could people be pulled over form many places, but also that their arrival might not be voluntary, no matter their strength.

Which is the cause of him now systematically going through the names of those of whose presence in this world he would like to know, and whom he would not mind to know of his own presence at this point. Nerdanel, Finwë, Miriel, and then his sons in order of their age.

This is the first time that the locket picks up. So Makalaurë is here. Involuntarily, Fëanor will presume, for why would any of them leave Middle Earth where they are needed? There is no hesitation in choosing a visual connection, and Maglor will be treated to the sight of his father in the finest Unseelie colours, even his hairdo speaking of a lack of materials from back home to dress himself. The locket rests on his hand and allows a view of the background large enough to betray that he is in his rooms - he would have preferred the forges, but here there is more privacy to be had.

For a moment there is silence, but then he does speak. His words are almost tentative - forward, commanding, but still the faint hesitance of one trying something for the first time remaining behind it. ] Makalaurë. [A lot carries with the simple utterance of his name, the syllables filled to the brim, everything interwoven too intricately to extract clear notions.]

Edited 2014-05-29 14:27 (UTC)

[ It hurts to have his heart back. Now that he is aware of what he was missing, he wonders how he could have missed it. It is far, far heavier than he remembers it being, and it hurts, pounding almost irregularly. He keeps a brave face for the others, but House has been glaring in the way that suggests he will soon loose his patience and demand Maglor gets some aid or a drink (possibly both).

Every emotion he had forgotten has returned threefold it seems, every ghost clamouring for his attention. Some times he can barely think.

Javik must have such a headache filtering me out he thinks ruefully.

At night he is sleepless, spending the nights wandering the halls. Outside of the sterility of the station the stars give scant relief, but it is preferable to being indoors. He is curled up beneath a tree, trying to settle the ache both physical and emotional in his chest when the locket pings.

He almost ignores it - it is most likely to be Celegorm or Elrond, and he does not know if he can face either right now (Did he truly say that to them? Was he truly so cruel? Ah, but he has always been cruel, hasn't he? Heart or no, right from the beginning, he was always the one who could set aside his heart to act, did he not leave Maedhros there alone and forbid his brothers to act? )

In the end though, he picks it up, and is stunned into silence by who he sees on the other end. ]

Atarinya? [ The greeting is all he can choke out, no, surely this cannot be so, he is dreaming again, why would his father be here.

He is pale and wan, his Light of being flickering fitfully, eyes wide in shock and disbelief (and the pain is there, the pain is always, always there). ]

[The joy of seeing his son (through a locket, a tiny picture on gemstone or glass or yet another material, he cannot tell yet - but still so much more truly seeing him than just looking at thread interwoven with thread, unmoving and stiff, or in memory) washes over him, yet its waves are tempered quickly and powerfully, like the lady Uinen would restrain her husband, by what he sees.

Makalaurë looks terribly ill, pale and wan and full of pain, and it is an old ghost of his childhood that touches Fêanáro's mind upon beholding those familiar features weighed down, diminished, with such an expression. The ghost of a person, a still body in Lórien, beautiful and unmoving, towards whom his own father would turn yet who would never turn back towards either of them. It has been healed, a bit, by meeting her now as a man grown, even if not truly in person, but the shadow is awoken anew on his son's face.]

What happened to you? [Other questions should be more pressing - where are you, let me come to see you; yet they all wane in the light of those tired and hurting eyes.]

[ He closes his eyes desperately for a moment, for surely, surely his mind would not trick him this way - Father's ghost has whispered in his ear before, the echo of memory like all his others, but never has he had to face him in seeming reality. When he opens them again Feanor is still there, and the question and tone registers long before he processes what this means.

Father is worried. He wants a report. Old, old instincts wake. I have to answer him. ]

I... I am well enough. [ partial truth. Physically, this is true, apart from the tearing pain of a newly woken heart that rages with a thousand emotions to see a face thought lost forever ] I only. It has been a very long time, atarinya. [ Long enough to break me ] What do you want to know?

[ He even manages to steady his voice to calm by the last question ]

[Everything, would be the most fitting answer; it will not do to not have it be complete. Yet that may be a task to big, for he cannot know how long his son has been here (very long, said by one of their kin, must be terribly long indeed) nor what truly has been happening back in Middle Earth, and so he settles with what he perceives as the most pressing, before all questions about this world and their place in it. A demand to speak the whole truth, for "well enough" visibly is not an appropriate descriptor of Makalaurë's state.]

You look terribly ill. How long have you been, and why?

[His words are harsh, commanding, but they are so out of concern. What if his son...]

[ Whatever his emotions concerning his father (and there are many, and range from blackest fury through to desperate love), that voice and tone have always garnered obedience, and so it is now. Maglor's answer is calm, and almost impersonal, only the faintest tremor betraying him. He does not even think to lie. ]

It has been... Perhaps a week? Yes, a week, perhaps a bit more. I am being slowly re-accustomed to the burden of regret after putting it aside. It is nothing, atarinya - I will be well. [ Probably. Eventually. In time. Perhaps. ]

[Regret. It has never been something that has carried him through larger parts of his life, not until that first true night of his life, when he first knew that he had not been there - not been where he would have been needed more than anything, not been there to prevent from happening what could not be undone. Not before that fateful moment at the shores of Middle Earth when they searched in vain for Ambarussa's twin.

Regret, lasting regret, is no stranger to him anymore, though anger easily finds its way into thoughts of his father's death. Ambarto... It is a pain still growing.

Yet such thoughts are not on his mind, a quick picking through his second son's words yielding a much more curious, and troublesome, question. Anger puts aside regret, as does taking action. It is not that what concerns him.]

How long lasted that which causes your illness before you set it aside?

[ How long he asks, and Maglor falters. How long has it been, since he slept without nightmares, since he could open his eyes and say that the world was still beautiful? ]

Not... not since you left us, Atarinya. [ Not since Maedhros was taken and he made the decision not to treat with Morgoth. Not since Doriath, and Sirion. Not since the agonising burn of the Silmaril ]

I... perhaps some two thousand years?

[Two thousand years. That is... many, many times the years that have passed Fëanáro's own lifetime, many times the years that should have passed back home since they were parted. For his son to have lived here that long (for it still has not occurred to the father that he might not be taken from the same time as the son)... Yet at the same time, if it is true that he has remained unchanged all those years, there at least lies no immediate danger in his illness.

Not unless-] Has it worsened as of late? [He will consider the implication of the starting date which Makalaurë gave him another day.]

Edited 2014-05-30 11:45 (UTC)

[ The smile he gets is bitter and broken, and there is a flicker of madness in those grey eyes ]

Only so much as it worsens each time I failed thee atarinya, or worse, failed my brothers. I could not save them atarinya. I did try.

What do you speak of? You have not failed me.

[Not that he would know of. Maitimo... maybe, and he still does not understand, has had no chance to get more information on the handing over of the crown to Aracáno than that it happened. The tapestries never tell of the why. The same is why he can say little about his eldest son's capture by Morgoth, and how Makalaurë reacted to it. But one thing he can directly address.

And there is a pause before he speaks again, his voice carefully devoid of emotion as he for the first time (and most likely last time in long) voices regret; admits a guilt that he cannot take off his heart, and that he does not wish his son to bear in his stead, should it be one of the things weighing him down (he does not know if it is. But Makalaurë, for all that Fëanáro thinks him capable and reliable, had always been the sweetest towards the twins, and one of those closest to them). A regret that has steadily grown and solidified since that day at the shores of Middle Earth, and especially since he came to the halls, for nothing else was there to capture his mind.]

And not can you have failed your brothers more than I failed Ambarto.

[ That reminder draws a snarl (a snarl, from sweet Makalaure, who spent most of the trip across in the boats nearly catatonic from grief), and then it breaks, and Maglor's composure with it ]

I remember.

Oh atto, but I did. I could not save Turko, or Moryo, or Curvo, I could not save Ambarussa. Did you know Moryo's last words were to beg me to save his brothers? He did not know Curvo was already dead. Turko was alive long enough to ask me to sing him to Mandos, and Ambarussa I saw cut down in front of me. And oh, atto, I could not save Nyelo, never ever. I lost him twice you know, and once Findekano brought him back, but then I lost him too, and the second time Nyelo left me I couldn't reach him at all. And I failed you atto, right at the end, you and your precious jewels!

[ Who does he hate more, Maglor wonders. Himself, for taking the oath, his father for the way he has never been able to refuse him?

He laughs and the sound is almost hysterical - there is not a shred of joy in it ]

We reclaimed them, you know, Maedhros and I. [ he does not notice that he switched names, his eyes burn bright, but the light is fey and wild ] At the end, when Morgoth was overthrown, we came to the camp of the Valar like thieves in the night, and stole the Silmarils away. They caught us, but Eonwe let us go! He looked on us with pity, and we soon learnt why!

We could not touch them atarinya! For our deeds we were so unclean that they burnt us, oh that flame! And Maedhros could not bear it any longer, though I begged and pleaded for him to heed me! He threw himself into the fire atarinya, and left me alone! And I threw your precious silmaril away, and so failed you at the last and I. don't. care!

[Continued here.]

[Fëanáro seems completely on top of the situation now, and even to those who know him intimately it clear that he feels that to be the case at least. His conversation with Tyelkormo was very enlightening, in a lot of ways.

Without a mention of what they spoke of only a short while ago, he levels a precise, demanding stare at the locket. No deflections now; he has specific questions and demands that he wants answers to, and he won't allow for anything else. There seems to lie no use in letting it meander, not with the state that Makalaurë is in.]

Where is it that you currently are?

[ Before the Feanor turned off the feed, he would have heard Maglor weeping, and he looks, if anything, even worse than he did before, eyes red-rimmed, voice hoarse from weeping. But whatever his state, that voice and tone have always commanded obedience, and it does so again now. ]

The station. [ Flat and dull, almost lifeless ] At the borders between Seelie and Unseelie lands. I left the castle some four weeks back.

Edited (GRAH HTML) 2014-06-01 10:59 (UTC)

Remain there.

[It's a flat out order, and he will allow no words to the contrary. Meeting halfway would bring them together faster, yet bear the danger of missing the other, and he cannot trust Maglor to make his way back to the castle safely in the state that he seems to be in, the road is too dangerous for one who seems not ready to put all their will into remaining alive.]

Are you alone, and if that is not so, who is with you?

[ Almost, a spark of rebellion flares in his eyes I am no child to be ordered! but it dies only too swiftly and Maglor only nods once in acquiescence. ]

I came with friends, and they are here even now. Most will not return to the castle.

[ And perhaps it says much about his mood and thoughts of the Drabwurld, that he chose as companions those who distrust the castle and its queen, and chose for a location one as far away from it as he could and yet remain within unseelie lands. ]

Why is that so, and what are their names?

[He must have someone to watch over his son and relay word of him that has no bias in Makalaurë himself; and while he would prefer that person to be of kin (he has found a rift in understanding between himself and the secondborn too great for proper understanding of what he fears his son's situation is, and they seem to be the majority among those from other worlds - and he can only assume that those that Maglor travels with are taken from other worlds as well) he will take anyone, as long as they seem reliable. But to contact them, he needs their names.]

[ A long pause, Maglor eyeing his father quietly - here, here, is the politician that he became, all emotion locked away behind utter indifference, because to feel is to break ]

Because. [ he says eventually ] We do not trust her, the Unseelie Queen. Because we are weary of fighting, especially another's war. [ We, he says, not They ] Because I saw how easily she led Celegorm, and felt the brush of her power against me.

[ He does not give their names - and that as well, speaks much of his regard for them as opposed to the Queen. He is protecting them ]

[He nods, briefly. It is not something that he feels it safe to comment on, not in a castle where he does not yet know where ears might hear, not through seeing stones such as these that might be overseen by another.

But though Celegorm's words might have swayed him more than he would admit, even to himself, he does not trust the queen that brought them here, does loathe that her son has sworn himself to her. He may be less decided in his answers, but Maglor's words still ring true to him.]

But I am not her, and I am not your brother; and I desire to speak with your companions, if only briefly. [His voice is softer now, beckoning.] I worry for you, Makalaurë, and my heart will rest easier if I would know those whose company you share. [It is not a lie at all; not the full truth, maybe, but close enough to be honest.]

[ He hesitates a long moment before he nods, slowly ]

Daud. Ask to speak to Daud. [ That should be safe enough, he thinks - everyone who pays any attention to gossip knows that Daud demanded to be released from the Queen's service in their audience. The old soldier has little fear of the Queen, though plenty of respect for her power, and he is already so out of favour Maglor feels it cannot do any harm. Besides, the grizzled veteran has proven time and again to be the most level headed of their group. ]

[Another nod, though entirely different in meaning - a silent thanks for giving up that name-, and Fëanor relaxes slightly.]

I will contact him. [And, on a last, and somewhat less personal note:]

How long did it take you to travel from here to this "station"?

[ There is a subtle line of tension that eases when Feanor approves, but Maglor only shrugs a little ]

Some four weeks. But we were in no hurry, and not all of us were accomplished riders.

[He mulls that over, visibly performing some mental math and similar tasks, his eyes going distant for a moment, before focusing back on his son.]

I should assume that it can be done in three weeks, then, if one hurries. [And has good horses, but he knows that he'll have them.]

Yes - we took the roads, also. It might be possible to cut across the forests, if not as safe.

[He almost shrugs his shoulders at that; safety is relative.]

Be at the station still [don't leave; don't fade] in three weeks time, then. Your brother will help me decide on the fastest way.

I will not leave of my own will.

[ It is the only promise he can make ]

[And not more than he can ask for.]

Message me, should anything come up.

I will, atto.

As will I.

[And with that he ends the connection. There is much to do still, and it must be done swiftly.]

Edited 2014-06-01 14:47 (UTC)

[Not a restful night sleep for Alice with nightmares and terrible hallucinations upon waking. She looks exhausted.

Alice has never been a shy person, however, she's certainly feeling that way. She feels as if she has opened an old wound and the guilt won't go away, as usual. She's drowning in it along with her natural paranoia. She sucks in a breath, finally working up her courage.]

... Sir? I-

I'm very sorry to disturb you, but.

[She rushes along.]

I wanted to apologize for last night.

[ The answer is a long time in coming - too much has happened (is happening), and with his heart still newly returned Maglor has not been coping well. He is pale and wan, but for her, who he barely knows, he manages to look more-or-less composed ]

Mistress Alice wasn't it? [ he sounds tired, even so, but calm (it is a lie, but Maglor is a good actor, when he needs to be) ]

Tis of no account - the error was on my side, not yours. I thank you for your apology, but there truly is no need.

[The wait to hear from him has stressed her out and yet when she finally does get a response, she gives a sigh of relief. She still feels terrible -- for both of them.]

Yes. My name is Alice.

[Alice swallows.]

I... well, I am glad to hear that, but I beg to differ. Truly, I am sorry for upsetting you.

Edited 2014-06-01 08:02 (UTC)

You could not have known. [ He shakes his head a little ]

That the news brought me pain is not of your doing. I needed to hear it, in any case.

Perhaps, but. I understood where he was coming from having been separated from family before.

[What is with her? She is normally not this nervous. The fact this man was looking for his sons and he obviously found some of his sons makes her feel even more guilty. Alice frowns.]

Please allow me to make up for it in some way, sir.

He is. [ soft and sad ] He is my father, and it has been a long, long time.

Do not feel you have to, mistress. Our family's affairs have always been fraught with peril and emotion. To be frank, it would be safer for you if you had as little to do with us as possible.

[That? That earns a suspicious look from Alice; she isn't one to brush those things off, although she finds herself just a little insulted, despite the good intentions. Alice's face grows dark.]

So I saw; you look like him. With all due respect, Mr. Maglor, I am capable of fending for myself if needed. And I've already agreed to go with him and a group to this so-called station.

I do not want to be apart of a war and I am no soldier. I would feel more content being out of these realms. I only felt the need to offer, because the moment I saw you, I wondered if you were his.

[ he cannot quite hide the flinch at her words but his voice is as even as ever ]

As you say mistress, yet beware! No good has ever come to those who deal deeply with us, for good or ill. Have a care of my father. He means well, truly, but he does not always spare a thought for those around him in the pursuit of his goals.

I am at an impasse.

[For lack of better words. Alice figures if she goes with them, she's out of the way. Though with this, she may be exceptionally weary. His omittance is respected by her, however-]

I only wish to leave this castle, nothing more. I am not going to be confided amongst the unseelie court. The lesser of evils, unfortunately.

I am, however, concerned. Has alerting the both of you to each other think of him as much? To be blunt, good sir, you look dreadful.

Probably for the best - Father will do his best by you, but he is... not the best at caring for others.

[ He shrugs ] I love him, and I missed him dearly, but... I have been burnt by his flame before. I would still follow him, to whatever end, but I would spare others that flame.

And I will be well, mistress. In time. [ which is not a denial of how bad he looks ]

Such is family.

[She's never fought with hers, she was far too young. Far too young to lose her family.]

It's a strange thing to include yourself in that warning, but. I was already armed to begin with.

[She could outright say she will not hesitate to use her knife against anyone who does even raise their hand against her. No, that would be too much right now.]

You can insist that everything will be well, but I promise some sort of peace offering.

So it is. [ He agrees quietly ]

I am as dangerous as he, mistress, if in a different fashion - I too, have brought grief to many.

If you must, Mistress Alice. [ he manages a smile ] I do not need anything, truly, but I will not refuse you.

Anyone is capable of being dangerous, Mr. Maglor. Things are never simple as they seem and I am not that much of a fool.

[Ironically, that self-deprecation angers her, it brings dark thoughts to her mind. Maybe it angers her because she can see elements of herself in it.]

Your omission is appreciated but never allow your omissions to kill you.

Capable, aye - but we have much against our names. [ but he shrugs and lets it drop - On your own head be it - he is far too tired to pursue this ]

[ I would not mind if it did he does not say, instead ]

As it please you, mistress.

Well, for the sake of sanity, that is something I am willing to look past momentarily.

[She understands, or so she hopes. It's infuriating to see someone talk about themselves in such a matter. She can't get a gauge for him quite yet so there's no point to drill him to step out of it.]

Please, sir, call me Alice.

[ He tips his head in acknowledgement ]

Alice then. And will you do me the kindness of using mine as well then? Maglor I am, no lord or prince to deserve fine titles.

I was taught that it's improper to address an elder otherwise, so I-

[It should be self-explanatory, shouldn't it. She rubs the back of her head.]

If it pleases you, Mr. Maglor.

[ that nets the glimmer of a smile, there and gone again 'elder', is it? Truer than she knows ]

I thank you for the courtesy Alice.

You're welcome, Mr. Maglor.

[ Even with that warning, there's still a pang of guilt she feels for bringing his father to his attention. Still, the warning stands and Alice won't ignore it. All the more reason to be on guard. ]

I suppose I shall leave you to your own devices, but I will keep you warning in mind.

But I also ask you to keep in mind not to trifle with me, either.

[ He tips his head in a bow (maybe there is a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, but it is hidden well, if so) ]

Travel safely Alice.

I will.

[ And for now, she'll let him be. ]

[The feed only records the sound of the wind at first. They have found a sheltered place under the branches of low, meagre trees a small way up the side of the valley, shielded from sight yet offering a view of their surroundings all the same, and while Tauriel is seeing after the horses and the humans are asleep, Fëanáro has taken some steps away from both to contact his son; hear of news and address a topic that his talk with House brought up.]

Maglor.

[And sure enough that name rang his son's device when he spoke it first, and he repeats it once the connection has been made. Maglor. The intonation and quality of the vowels is faintly off (he has not heard much Sindarin in his life, though some of it is very recent now), and his tone is almost a question, though not quite. Why.]

Atarinya? [ Maglor still sounds tired and weary, a bit more present, perhaps (he has always done better given something to do, and he has an elven princeling to care for until his father arrives, and then who knows? for this insult, what repatriation can he make that is sufficient?) There is confusion on his part as well. Why that particular form of address? ]

What is it? [ Why use that name? ]

[He had meant to address that, but then... He has never been good at listening; never had much patience for it. But his sons he knows too well to miss much, and though Makalaurë has changed since he saw him last (so broken, so gone), and though he was in a bad state when they spoke last, as well...

The name by which his son introduces himself in this world may be curious, may be worrying, but more worrying is how Makalaurë sounds even more tired now than he did before. Anything else come later.]

What happened? [For it can't be that nothing has, not when his son is like this.]

[ Despite the centuries between them, his father's abrupt change of direction is familiar, and on his end Maglor only blinks and shrugs mentally before obediently switching gears. Since his father uses the Sindarin however... ]

Celegorm's...victim arrived at the station. [ careful, precise, deliberate, but with anger quietly banked and simmering beneath (at the queen, at Celegorm, at himself) ] The young woodland prince had been cruelly treated. That he made it here at all is a marvel, but he was wounds were dire. His escorts sought aid. They found me.

[ He leaves unsaid 'I gave of my own strength to save another more deserving' but perhaps his father hears it anyway ]

Edited (i just realised) 2014-06-06 16:07 (UTC)

[There is no recognition to be found in Fëanáro's eyes at the mention of the younger of his sons, hidden though it is from his son; too unlike each other are the names, and he has not heard of any of the circumstances surrounding Legolas's capture yet - Tauriel's prince, perhaps, is what catches his thoughts for a moment, but it cannot last, not stay on a mind that is focused now on the little that was said about Makalaurë himself, and more than that it which was left unsaid.]

You are no healer, Makalaurë.

[Neither defeat nor exasperation nor reprimand are in his voice, a simple statement tinged with worry and a faint hint of irritation - at the prince's escorts for tempting his son such.

Tuning into his son's thinking process, at the distance not only of many miles but also of even more years, proves a difficult undertaking. Anyone else may not become the focus of Fëanáro even trying to do so, but this is his son, and he will not fail him. Will not fail him like he failed his father (his mother), not how he failed Ambarto. In a world without hatred of Morgoth or his own oath and their objects to drive him, without his father to put before all others in his heart - without his wife, even, and oh, he wishes that she was here, always the better of them when reasoning with matters of the heart - in such a world, his sons are what matters most to him. There are other moments of importance: To "not be in servitude", as Alice put it, and lesser desires that will come when he has time (to explore, to learn, to understand, to transform and create). But he has always been one to act in order of priorities, to leave lesser matters for later.

To argue by his son's reasoning is what he will attempt, and can only hope that his words will come through.]

There is little that giving of your strength could do for anyone injured, much less injured as you say this prince was; of more help will you be to him and others in other ways, and for those you need strength that without use for any would be wasted if you try to heal.

I am not. [ Agreement, but not entirely. ]

Yet it was my brother's hand that struck against him, and on my brother's hands his blood, and possibly, his life. What other choice had I? If one of Feanor's sons dealt the injury, should not one of Feanor's sons mend it? I kept him alive, atarinya, until House could tend his wounds [ Yes dad, his friends told him that dad was on their backs ]. I will not apologise for that.

[ His life is worth more than mine goes unsaid, but perhaps it is heard in any case ]

It is done, in any case. His father rides for the station, and the prince is as stable as House can keep him, but it takes Elven skill to keep a fea from fleeing, and if that is all I can do, then I do not begrudge it.

[ Gentler, because as tired and weary as he is, he can tell Feanor worries ] I will be here when you arrive atarinya. I told you as much, and I will keep that promise.

Edited (spelling...) 2014-06-07 11:24 (UTC)

I will be there soon. Two weeks more, by the reckoning of the sun, as Tauriel tells me.

[And now that that is tended to, he turns to the other side of the argument - which does start with a linguistic question, though only to clarify the matter.]

So like you, Tyelkormo uses a name which I can only assume to be Sindarin in these lands, despite the tongue being a third. Celegorm, you say?

Edited 2014-06-07 22:51 (UTC)

[ A nod, he can hold that long ]

Forgive me atarinya, I had forgotten that you would not know. Aye, we all took names in the language of the Sindar - it was thought to be more politic at the time. We... Quenya is spoken seldom, now - it is the language of lore, and close family, but little more than that. [ Most of them hate me using the Quenya, so I stopped, he doesn't say ]

But yes, he is Celegorm now, [ Celegorm the Cruel, and I still miss my baby brother ] even as I became Maglor. The translations were... done in haste, and perhaps not entirely as well as they might have been, however. [ since he knows how interested Feanor is in language ]

I was told of a ban.

[It's said as a question as much as a statement, and he does not elaborate further on who it was that told him, or what his thoughts on the matter might be, not on what little he knows of it. Maglor has done little to diminish the questions that he has regarding it.]

Yes. [ a small nod ] When King Thingol of Doriath - he who was once Elwë, King Olwë's brother, - when he learnt of... the our Doom and our... manner of arrival, he banned all Quenya from being spoken or used in his kingdom. [ He refused to countenance any dealings with us also Maglor doesn't say ] And since he was lord of the largest and greatest of the moriquendi kingdoms... it became widely accepted so, even by those who were technically not under his lordship.

It was easier for all of us to... follow suit. [ He does not speak of the arguments, the tears, and secret ways many of the Exiles kept their language alive in their families. He does not speak of the way his brothers refused all dealings with their old names ]

[But he hears that which his son does not speak of in his words, faintly only and without the picture being clear yet enough to let him know that the following of the developments was not done in happiness.]

Yet there is no force here which calls for either of you to continue such practice, nor does the language spoken call for your names to be Sindarin. What is it that makes you use them still?

[ there is a long pause before Maglor answers ]

I have not been Makalaure for a long time, atarinya. I do not know who he is, any longer. And... my brothers dislike such reminders.

[He will have to remind Maglor of Makalaurë, then, for his son cannot have lost himself too thoroughly to be refound; yet this, he cannot do from a distance, and so it is not the time for that, now.

For a short while, only the wind can be heard, rustling in low trees. Then, Fëanáro picks up another part of his son's words, the third which needs to be taken up.]

You spoke of a young woodland prince's injuries at your brother's hands; for what reason did this come to pass, and are those woodlands those of Mirkwood?

[It would indeed be a cruel twist of fate, to have one in his company sworn to a lord whose son his own sun hurt in such a manner. Dangerous as well, and certainly necessary to know.]

Mirkwood... aye, that was the name Gala... Artanis used. Yes, I think so. I do not know the specifics, atarinya. When I said the prince was wounded sore, he was very close to death, and in no fit state to be answering questions.

But... I recognise Celegorm's hand. [ I recognise my brother's madness ] Artanis told me... that he had beaten and tormented him for being caught trespassing.

Without knowing the details I cannot give you specifics but this is what I guess - not long before your arrival, both castles staged incursions on each other - the Queens taking from those in their service, and placing them on the field of battle. Likely, the prince was one of them. Celegorm was one from our side. He... he took one of our kin from the castle. When I spoke to him, he was wroth with rage at their refusal to leave. And when he returned... the Queen heaped him with praise and reward, and he found the castle also invaded. It.... I think it made him angry, that a place where he was honoured be touched so. [ And there is a world of bitterness in the way he speaks of it ] The prince was unlucky enough to cross his path, and... he used him as an example.

There is one with me who is sworn to him; Tauriel is her name.

What others to you know of who hail from the same realm, or otherwise would owe allegiance to him past the bonds of the courts? [It's not a judgement of what happened, not approval nor disapproval; it's a simple assessment that brings forth this more tactical question. If the prince's state is as bad as Makalaurë tells him, it is likely that there will be demands. And no matter what his opinion might be in the end, if war should come between Tyelkormo and the prince's side, he will stand with his son and unspoken the expectation stands that Maglor will do likewise.]

I have not been keeping abreast of the affairs of the court [ because I do not want to ], but so far as I know, Mirkwood has only its king and his son. There may be others in his service, but I know them not. Further, based on how Artanis speaks of him, I suspect that she is friendly, if not allied to him.

[ The response is dutifully precise, pulling on centuries worth of politicking to tease out nuances of what little he knows ]

There is at least one other who is closely allied to him - I believe I heard tell that a mortal soldier rides with Thranduil. There may be more, I do not know.

[He nods, and briefly raises his head to see if Tauriel is still standing where he last saw her.]

Artanis is from a time far into my future. What can you tell me about the person that she is now? [He has seen her on the network, but hell will freeze over before he contacts her first.]

She is from mine as well, atarinya. But... When I knew her she lived in Doriath and was courted by, and eventually married a Sindarin Prince - Celeborn by name. She is Galadriel, now, and she tells me she has a daughter already full grown and married, in her time. She did not, when I knew her, but... we had fallen out of contact. [ Through our own deeds ]

So far as I know after Doriath she and Celeborn relocated down towards the shore, and settled for a while in Sirion by the harbors, before heading East towards the mountains. I heard some tell they were living near the foothills of the Misty Mountains among the Sindar, but I can tell you little more than that.

What I have seen of her here - she is grown wise and great, with compassion in her heart to balance the fire of her youth. She has suffered, but it has not broken her, but instead forged her anew, bright and brilliant. [ It hurts to look at her, but I am happy that she has found her happiness ]

[A formidable foe then, should it ever come to such; he hopes that it will not.]

Is her daughter present in this place?

[ for the first time, a genuine smile crosses Maglor's face - it is a poor tired thing, but it is there ]

Aye. Celebrian is her name - a fine young ellith with her mother's spirit. Her betrothed is my Elrond.

[His eyes widen in surprise at his son's words.

That explains the feeling of familiarity that Celebrían gave him.]

We have spoken.

[He doesn't comment further, yet his surprise does not give way to the distance that it holds when he speaks of Artanis - at least not yet.]

Truly? She seems a fine one - Elrond clearly loves her dearly. [ And so Maglor must automatically do so as well ]

[ wistful ] I suppose I should be grateful for a chance to know her here.

What is your and Elrond's relationship?

[He has caught bits and pieces, but not as told by his son, and is curious to hear the whole picture.]

[ a pause, then ]

It is... complicated, atarinya, and bound, as so many things are, with your silmarils. [ Maglor sighs and fiddles with the harp, looking for a way to explain ]

We learnt, eventually, that one of them was in the keeping of the peredhel princess of Sirion. When she did not yield it, we... stormed their camp. [ the words are like ashes in his mouth - Sirion was little more than a glorified refugee camp, far too few guards, and mostly frightened survivors of too many wars and kinslayings - things might have been different if Earendil was home, but he was not, and so... ]

We did not retrieve it, and ... Elwing jumped - to her death, we all thought, leaving behind her two children. Twin boys - Elrond and Elros. Maedhros, sorry, Nyelafinwe and I... we took them with us. [ and perhaps it is notable that Maedhros is the only one he mentions, of all his brothers ] We... I could not tell you with any clarity what we were thinking, that day. I suppose we wanted hostages, if their father came back? I do not know. But... over time... things changed.

[ a long pause, then he admits ] Elrond is as a son to me.

[And here he thought he could steer the conversation to more shores more joyful for his son by way of this question.

But it still tells him much, and more by way of what is not said or mentioned.] How many years have passed for you since then? [How many years has it only been the two of you? (It does not even occur to him to wonder if one of their brothers might have left them instead of passed on, they would not leave their brothers, none of them, not if a choice was possible.]

Edited 2014-06-16 08:14 (UTC)

[ the pause this time is brief - these dates are close to him now, and will always be so ]

Sirion was some 50 years ago now. [ 50 years. So long, and so short. 50 years and now I am alone ]

[Fifty years, at most, and then Maitimo was gone as well... For he knows that he isn't with Makalaurë anymore in the time that he came from.

He's really trying to end the conversation on a positive note, though, mostly because he hopes for that to aid his son's help, if only in the slightest.]

How long was it that Elrond stayed with you?

[ Sorry dad, but all Maglor's tales end in tears these days ]

25 years. Not long, as we count it. When ... when they were old enough, Maedhros and I, we decided to let them go - better that they went free of us. [ For we loved them, and would not drag them with us, and even then, we began to see how it must end ]

[One last attempt and then he must speak to Tauriel before the others awaken.]

Children in Middle Earth grow more swiftly than those in Aman?

Not really - but like their parents, the boys were peredhil - half-elven. They grew more swiftly than those of full blood, but slower than Men. By the time they left us, they were mature in body, if not perhaps entirely in mind, eager and ready to see the wide world. [ If, perhaps, supremely irritated and more than a little hurt that their parental figures had suggested that they not come back. Ever. ]

[He still knows little enough of the secondborn that such an union as must have happened between their grandparents does not seem terribly unexpected to him.]

You raised them well. [At least if Elrond as he met him in the Unseelie halls is anything to go by.]

[ that gets a very real smile - whatever his guilt for tangling the twins' fate with his, to heart that Feanor approves is something he never thought to hear ]

Thank you atarinya. I am glad you thought so.

I do.

But we need to end here - I will message you again in a few days.

I will be here atto.

[Will is sitting in a room that looks nothing like the room he lives in in the Station. This new room is covered in gold and bright fabric, with pillows and lanterns decorating every surface. Far from comfortable, Will looks upset, nearly panicked if he could reach that far in his emotional handbag]

Mags? MAGS!? Got a bloody problem right now.

Will? [ Maglor is up and reaching for his sword, responding as much to the tone as anything else, and it takes a brief moment to register that is the locket. ]

Will what ails you? Where are you?

Mags! Oh, that god.

I'm... [He's almost embarrassed to admit exactly where he is]

Look, go in my room and see if the bottle is still in the drawer under my bed. [He leans his head against a golden wall and sighs in frustration] Just don't let no one know what you're doing.

[ Maglor blinks back in confusion, but as it is important to Will he only nods and signs off to do so.

Ordinarily, sneaking around other Elves is difficult, particularly if one of said Elves is your Father, and he is hovering worriedly. Fortunately, Maglor is... well, he's not well but he's certainly better, and Feanor has finally unbent enough to give in to his curiosity about the station now that he's convinced his son isn't about to Fade. And with the others all caught up in their own dramas it is easy enough for Maglor to wrap concealment around himself (tiring, but doable), and drift like a shadow down the halls to Will's room.

It takes a little while but eventually the locket pings back a reply ]

I cannot find it Will. You are certain it was there?

OF COURSE IT-- Sorry, ain't your-- Okay, just, maybe if you call me?

[Will hates this world. HATES. He only wanted to take a nap after a big lunch and cold beer. Was this punishment?

OH! That damn fairy! If he ever found it again he was going to take it tiny wings off]

[ A shake of the head and a crooked smile ]

Do not apologise Will, I know how important it is to you. Call you? Ah. Certainly?

Will, come here?

[Will waits with his eyes closed, ready and willing to take whatever abuse and humiliation needed to himself out of his tiny problem.

Nothing.

There's an itch, but it's as though something was blocking him from going to Maglor. Will opened his eyes and hit a purple and gold pillow.]

Right. This place, this stupid place...

[He's still embarassed, but he wants out and the only way to get out is for some to free him]

I'm in the bottle and I got no idea where the bottle is. Probably one of them blasted fairies.

[Will moves so that he can see out of the bottom of his bottle, where golden bars keep him from being free.]

It's dark and [sniff] smells a bit like leather. A bag maybe? Someone mighta stolen the bottle, but I ain't sure how I got back inside. There's...grass? No, herbs. And, I think, arrows. Can't see too much in here.

[ A brief frown, but it is more worried and thoughtful than anything ]

Can you see the arrows? What colour are the fletchings?

[Will has to smash his face against the grating to see the colors. Luckily the bag was open enough to let a small bit of light in so he could see outside his lamp]

White and...yellow? Can't tell, might be shadow.

Celegorm uses white and yellow fletchings... it ... might be his bag but...

Will how in Varda's name did you end up there?

Celegorm? You mean the fellow who was all nice and friendly to me, but apparently went and tortured one of your own? Great.

[He doesn't meant to bring up such a painful subject, but he's nearly panicked and more that a little claustrophobic]

If I knew that then I'd know how to get out. One minute I'm having a rest and the next I wake up here. You know there ain't no toilet in here? Or food? Or anything?

Mags, you gotta get your brother's bag and let me out.

Aye, my brother. [ there is the slightest edge to his voice at that, but it drops soon enough ]

I will speak to him Will, and see if it is his bag that holds you. Will you be well until then?

Or you could just grab the bag and get the bottle without him knowing.

[Because Will really didn't want people to witness this humiliation]

And...I'm sorry for mentioning that stuff. Small places just get to me.

I can see that. I am sorry Will. But Celegorm is back in the Castle - four weeks ride from the Station, and I'll not abuse your powers so. [ not when using up all three means that Will might get stuck inside permanently ]

I will speak to him and see what might be done.

[There is a lot of frowning going on]

Right. I'll just...sit here.

I am sorry Will. [ the faerie that follows him comes creeping onto the screen and chimes apologetically - totally not her fault, but you look sad, cheer up! ] If it is Celegorm, I will tell him to at the least let you out post-haste. If it is not... well. I suppose I can use a wish, but I am hesitant to waste them so.

Don't use a wish! Remember, they have to be exact or I could end up on the top of some mountain or in a volcano. Just, just get me your brother to open the bottle or whatever.

[ A flick of a smile at that ]

I will not. I sent a message to Celegorm - we will hopefully have you free soon Will. Although I suppose this teaches us one thing - if the bottle goes, you may travel with it, and not be bound to my side.

[Will really can't help making a face]

Oh yeah, this is so much better than being stuck at the Station.

[ an apologetic shrug ]

The best we can do, for now. At the least, Celegorm trusts you?

Hopefully he'll remember that trust when he finds a stowaway.

Least this bottle could do is give me a fridge full of beer. [so much pouting]

I left him a message - hopefully he will remember that you were good to me Will. I... can I ask a favor? I know... I know he rides to war. Will you watch him for me? I cannot influence him, not from here, but he might listen to you. He needs good friends Will - part of his problem has always been that he needs a cause to follow, and companions to stand with him.

[A favor? What made people think Will was someone they could trust?]

Yeah. You know I ain't going to get in no fight, but I'll-I'll keep an eye out for him. Maybe convince him to head to the Station.

Do me a favor and keep this whole genie trapped in his bottle thing between us, yeah?

[Oh, the humiliation of being stuck]

[ because Will has been honest and helpful? ]

Of course, Will. Better Celegorm does not know what power you hold in any case, he might well seek to use you for his own ends. And thank you - it sets my heart at ease to know you will be beside him.

Your brother is bonkers, mate.

[His voice is quiet, almost as though he's hiding]

Will? What is wrong? [ anxious and worried ]

What has happened to Celegorm?

[ and then utterly resigned ]

...What has he done now?

Well, he spent a good part of the day sad. Or angry. Hard to tell with him. Then he went off with his little army and I have no idea what he did, but he probably won't be welcomed with open arms at the Mair anytime soon.

[He promised to watch Celegorm, but the elf is a bit darker than Will initially thought]

You sure you two are related?

Ah... [ Well considering that Mags today has (1) punched and broken a mirror/window and scratched up his hands (2) reopened the burn scars on his right and (3) possibly depressed everyone within range of his voice... yeah, he knows why Celegorm is feeling right now ]

Oh Celegorm. [ soft and so very despairing ] Be very, very careful Will. I ... think I know why. Have you been paying attention to the network? One of the Seelie children has ... made an extremely unwise move. That is probably what has him so angry. He ... will not hurt you, I do not think. Not willingly. But Will, it will be very dangerous to be closely associated with any of us now.

He ain't going to start a war is he? I mean a proper war or whatever you elves do.

[He will need to have words with Celegorm if things are headed in the direction he thinks they are]

Also, you are my mate and I ain't just going to toss you to the side because of a bit of misunderstanding.

We are - [ We, not He ] although I will try and mitigate the damage, if I can. Did I ever tell you of our Oath, Will?

One of Father's jewels has appeared here - a jewel we are sworn to retrieve, whatsoever the cost and irregardless of who stands in our way. The Seelie girl has it, and has brandished it in our faces, refusing to yield it.

[ The light in his eyes gutters, a flame in a too-strong wind, and he looks so very tired, all the hard work his friends and family have put into fixing him vanished in one fell stroke ]

Unless I can find another way to retrieve it, we go to war Will, not as Unseelie but as Feanorionnath, and I would spare you that.

[He caught that "We" and was less than pleased]

Over a jewel? No, no, I don't care. Look, you have a way to get it, yeah? Wish. Use a bloody wish before you brother does something really stupid.

Unless...this is just a jewel, right? I mean, it doesn't end the world or anything does it?

Not just a jewel - Father's Silmaril, the most beautiful things ever created by hand of mortal being, the only remaining source of the Light that was before moon and sun, and Father's most prized creations. But I suppose if you mean, "does it have any world ending powers" then no, it does not - beyond that it is precious beyond price to my father, and holds a light that can never be dimmed and will not stand evil's touch, it is, still 'only' a jewel.

And the nature of such Oaths is binding, beyond life, beyond death - we may have no rest until it is fulfilled.

[ A light flickers in his eyes, hungry and desperate at the offer, but he shakes his head ] And embroil you in our problems? No Will, I do not want you bound to our Oath as well, and you will be, if I use your magic. And I only have two wishes left - I do not want you trapped in your bottle.

[He didn't expect to be given a talking to over a jewel, no matter how special it supposedly was. To a thief a jewel was only as good as the price it would fetch, and certainly never worth risking you life over]

It ain't a problem, it's a wish. One, leaving one left. Look, I'll never be free of this bottle no matter what you think you have figured out, and there's not certainty that I'll get stuck again; this is a different world with different rules.

[Why does Maglor have to make everything so difficult?[

What's the name of this Seelie who has your family jewel anyway?

[ because that is what he does? ]

And if we need it later? [ Maglor shakes his head ] I do not want you entrapped in our Doom, Will.

And if we do not know if you will not get stuck, neither do we know if you will. I dare not risk it, Will. Not until I can work out a way to free you.

[ he blinks a bit in surprise at the question ]

Clarisse La Rue.

Then we have one left. [Mags, you need to stop being so concerned for others] Pretty sure it's my decision on if I help you out or not.

By all mean, keep looking, but, look [So much sighing], despite what it seems like, I ain't one to go tossin' about wishes here and there, but if there's a way to stop something bad then maybe you should take it. Folks are going to die. Folks who have nothing to do with your Oath.

[Yeah, it's low of him to toss that at Mags, but damn it, the elf is one of his only friends in this place]

Clarisse La Rue. Interesting name. Stands out.

[Did he ever tell Maglor he was a thief? Ex-thief, except when it suited him to be a current thief
Now if he could just get away from Big Brother, Celegorm]

One which to use might trap you forever, Will. [ no never ] And if I understood you aright when I made that first wish... it truly is not, Will - I heard how it forced you.

[ At the time he hadn't care much, but he does now ]

[ The mention of extra casualities makes him flinch ]

I know - I warned her of such, and I do not doubt that Celegorm did the same, albeit in less than kind words. And I sent word to the Seelie Queen and King, although I do not know if they recieved it. [ But the fairy that he sent with the message has not returned, and that is good enough for him ]

I... was planning on going in secret. If I wait, Celegorm will force my hand to war, but I might yet go and retrieve it in the confusion of the coming battle - hopefully without more lives lost. [ Apart from his own, perhaps, but it has become very obvious to all and sundry that Maglor cares very little for his own life ]

[Will is silent on that part, because Mags is right, it was fairly horrible when the magic of the curse took over his mind in that moment. Still, if Cyrus could get used to the cures than so could Will]

Oh yeah, that's a brilliant idea. The brother of the elf who is busy attacking, sneaking around, trying not to be noticed. Pardon my saying, but your lot tend to be fairly noticeable, not to mention how much you like to make friends on these lockets.

You need a professional, or at least someone to watch your back.

[ A quiet faint smile ] Celegorm is not the only one who knows how to wield illusion. And I would argue that I am a fair sight better than him at it - he was never one for subtlety. Believe me Will, with all of my kin here at the station, now, there remain precious few who could see me for what I am if I wished it otherwise.

[ it is how they got into the camp of the Valar, after all, ghosting past guards until they got to the very center ]

[ a curious eyebrow ]

Are you offering, Will?

Course.

Just let me get away from Big Brother.

[ A slow dawning smile, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds ]

Thank you Will.

Right.

Then, there's only one thing for you to do.

[So much hesitation. This better not be painful]

Call me back to you.

[ Only the briefest of hesitation this time, a prayer that it will not be too hard on Will ]

Will, come here.

[It starts as an odd feeling in his gut. Was he going to be sick?]

Oh, bloody hell.

[Looking down, Will realized that it was less a feeling of being sick he felt and more a feeling of having his body turn to a rust colored dust. From the bag he had been keeping the bottle hidden came a small cloud of dust; it was the last thing he saw as the rest of him was turned into this magic form and took off like a small cyclone through the forests and roads and right to Maglor.

The dust reformed into Will and the bottle found it's way in Maglor's hand.]

Okay, that, that was not...yeah... [He leaned over, unsure if was about to be sick or not]

[ a startled look down the locket is the last Will will see of Maglor's face until he reforms. The hand not filled with the bottle goes to Will's shoulder, Maglor instinctively twining healing and comfort into his voice, the subtlest thread of power like a soft warmth (he is no healer, but he was not that long ago a father, and before all that he was an elder brother, and some things are instinct by now) ]

I am sorry Will, it seems a cruel way to travel. Will you be well?

[He waved off Mags concern as he stood up and grinned]

That is not a method of travel I'd ever recommend.

Now, what's this 'bout a jewel that needs thieving?

Brother! I... brother...

... I've met, at last, with the Seelie commander who holds the Silmaril. We've arranged... [ His voice seems so small, uncertain, thin as a thread. He hasn't stammered so much since he was a child. ]

...arranged... an exchange. She'll deliver the Silmaril to you. And our oath again, I hope, will quiet. Guard it well from all that comes! The courts, the war... from everything.

[ Maglor has been in the Seelie castle with Will, hunting for the Silmaril, praying desperately that he finds it before it is too late. Between Clara, Will's skills and Maglor's own abilities they have passed unseen and unnoted, but even the Oath can only drive Maglor so long without rest, when he is already worn to the very edges of his endurance. And their search has been hopeless so far, the only thing of worth is Maglor's little ainsel fairy who found them in the search and has refused to be sent away again (she indicates that she left the note but recieved no reply from the Seelie monarchs, and the fury that Maglor holds against Morla widens to encompass Solais as well). When the message comes Maglor is outside the walls, in as safe a place as they might find, and he goes pale, reading easily between the lines the things Celegorm does not say.

No ]

Will! [ the call is soft but urgent ] Come here - we are out of time - we need to get back to the army lines now.

Edited 2014-07-29 02:18 (UTC)

[ She hears it and she knows, bile rising in her throat, that her message to Celegorm was too late. She knows and she scrambles with her locket, in the safety of the Station (Aubri has been looked after, healed, and will not hear; she can't face his anger at Celegorm, not right now. She can't face the responses of others either, and so she tells the locket that this is for Maglor and Maglor only), so close but so very far to where she last spoke to Maglor.

She tries to say his name but at first there are no words, just a choked sound; syllables that won't pass her tongue, a sob that won't quite form. She has to take another breath, has to force her grip on the locket to loosen as her knuckles start to ache. ]

He-

[ Again, she falters. Again, she takes a deep breath, but this time it shakes, trembling with her heart. ]

Maglor.

[ It's all she can say, as deep and sorrowful and never-ending as the ocean on the shores of Limbo. ]

[ It is a week and a day before she gets a response ]

Ariadne.

[ He sounds... exhausted. As if all the joy has gone out of him, as if all the life has been drained away ]

They tell me Celegorm lives again. [ And the hate which was washed out of him with the loss of his heart flickers to life again - how could they bring him back, why could they not let him rest? ] He woke not a few hours ago.

What?

[ The response is so startling, the words within it even more so, that Ariadne can't quite puzzle out how she feels. Shocked, mostly. ]

I- I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but-

[ She pauses, shakes her head though Maglor can't see it. She will talk to Celegorm herself. ]

Do you need anything?

My little one - the fairy who stayed. She was by his side when he woke. She called me... [ He had wondered where she had gone, for she had been all but attached to his side, following Celebrian's instructions while he was heartless, only to vanish in the last few days ]

I... no, little builder. I will be well enough. What of you?

I'm glad she was there. [ Glad of many things, but most especially that when Celegorm woke up, he wasn't alone. ]

I'd feel better if there was some way I could help.

[ A soft noise that might be laugh or sob or both, perhaps ]

Ah Alcalassë. The best thing you can do to help us right now is to stay safe, please. [ By which he means: stay away from us ]

I'll try.

[ Of course, the true meaning of his words doesn't actually come across for her. ]

But you too, okay?

I can promise nothing, little builder, but so long as you are well I will count myself content.

[ e l v e s ]

Do you know anything about dryads, Maglor?

[ If nothing else, perhaps she can give him something new to think about. ]

[ Most of them aren't this insane, promise? ]

Dryads? Not really, Ariadne. I have only met the three who follow in Legolas' train.

[ Distraction get? ]

We had no such beings in Arda that I knew of, although they seem a little like lesser Maia, perhaps - ah, that is, spirits of the world, but with less power than I would expect, and tied closely to their homes.

[ did it work ]

I have a manor in the forest, but I didn't realize that building it might upset them. Someone suggested that I should plant a tree in it to appease them, and I want to grow a garden, but I've never done either.

[ y...es sorta? ]

In La Llorna? Hmp. That place dislikes all things that walk, human or otherwise. If you plant a tree, I would choose one carefully - a young one, tended with love and care, might yet learn to love its carers, but do not take the willows - their hearts are black and rotten. Yet it might be taken as a sign of good will, also. I would speak, if you can, to the haryon of the Elvenking. Legolas is King now, if he chooses to take his father's crown, but he is Silvan, I think - and the folk of the wood have ways with tree and branch that we Noldor never learnt. You could also ask to speak to the Lady Galadriel - from the tales her daughter tells me, after... we were estranged, my cousin moved to Lothlorien, and they dwelt amongst and on the trees there - she might have some advice.

And... no fortress should be without a garden, I think.

Would one from another forest do well, do you think? Though- noted about willows. [ unsure face @ trees forever ]

'Haryon'? And I've spoken to Galadriel and her daughter before; it'd be good to speak to her again, I think.

[ Pause. ] I don't really know much about gardening, like I said. But I think it'd be nice -- add some color to the forest.

It would be safer, but, perhaps not as politic. [ a considering frown ] If you could see if a dryad would speak to you? You might stand and call them politely, beg their assistance - they would know, if any seedlings were safe to take. [ The Willow tried to eat them, Maglor does not forget such things easily ]

Ah, your pardon. Haryon is... it means, prince, heir - he is the Elvenking's son, after all. Mm, she is grown wise and great, my little cousin. I am glad... [ his voice drifts off a little before he seems to return to the conversation ]

It takes little you will find, to raise a good garden - a little sun, a little water, a lot of love, amil used to say, was enough for most small things, and plants are no different.

But what if they don't answer?

[ What if she isn't worthy, isn't good enough? ]

And what you call me - what does that mean? [ c: you know, now that you're sharing. ]

I have a list of plants and herbs that can be used for healing; I'd like to try to grow those, especially.

Then you will have done the best you can, and none can say you did not try. [ firm ] The consequences will be on their own heads, then. [ Something dark flickers in his voice at that - for above Clarisse, above himself... he blames the Seelie Queen for Celegorm's death ]

But I think they will - they seem good folk. Certainly, Legolas has had no trouble, but then again, as I said, the People of the Wood have a unique perspective, in that regard. Always a good idea to have in a garden. [ He nods ] But grow things for pleasure too, little builder - fruit and flower may bring ease even in the hard times... and you may be grateful for the fruit in the lean!

Hm? Alcalasse? It means... mm, Bright, Glorious. You shine, Ariadne.

[ The bit of darkness in his voice makes her shiver, unseen by the locket. This is war -- this is what will happen, one by one, unless she can do something. ]

Oh, I will! Apples should be okay, right? With the weather? And... I always liked sunflowers, when I was younger.

[ Oh. She ducks her head, cheeks red; when she speaks, the pleased embarrassment is clear. ] Thank you.

I would think so, yes. You may be able to persuade a pear or plum tree to grow as well - I fear I am not the best suited to ask, however.

Sunflowers? Aye, bright and golden - they would suit you, I think.

[ a soft amused huff ] I speak as I see, Ariadne, no need for thanks. But I am glad you approve.

And tall, which suits me a little less.

Even without being an expert, you've been very helpful.

[ There, finally, she's won a smile, although she cannot see it ]

Perhaps, or perhaps not. There is something to be said, little builder, about the thought of you lying amidst a field of golden sunflowers, reaching high above your head in a bright cloud.

Thank you.

[ No -- but she can hear it in his voice. ]

I'll let you know if the dryads reply to me, okay?

I am sure they will [ not an ounce of doubt ]

But I would be glad to know their answer.

I'll talk to you soon, then.

I will look forward to it, then.

[ If I am still here he does not say. ]

[Her face is pale as she sits on the ground, legs crossed and the chest (closed now) sitting in her lap. It's taken awhile for her to pull herself together enough to contact him. Celebrían can remember what she saw of Will's memory of his hearts removal and this-

She swallows hard.]

What is this?

[She knows that he'll know what she means. Not the chest or its contents but why it's there and not with him, not a part of him.]

[ It is a long time before she gets a response - once again, the most obvious thing is that his Light has simply gone out, the music absent from his voice. This time however, the consequences seem more severe. The first time, Maglor had been calm and almost cheerful. Now he seems a doll with strings cut, eyes empty ]

My heart, I think Celebrian. I do not know why. I was only telling Will I was tired.

That much is apparent, mother and I opened it.

[She's sure most of the Station heard them when they had. Her hold on the chest tightens and her knuckles turn white.]

So he did this? And sent it to mother and I?

No... he looked as surprised as I. The last time... it went to Celegorm. [ a small shallow shrug as if to say: Well, obviously it can't ] Will says it goes to someone I trust greatly.

I would be flattered if I did not know what this implied otherwise. [Her lips form a thin line as she takes a deep breath through her nose.]

I saw Will's memory.

About the Queen of Hearts. [ He nods, apparently unsurprised ]

As did I - he still remains without, for he told me it was with someone he trusted and they were not here. He says it is easier for him, without it - he does not feel as deeply, so pain remains at a distance.

So he avoids recovering from that pain as well. And so too do you. Any with eyes can see that you have lost a vital part of who and what you are with this.

[She pauses, stopping herself before she goes any further.] Can you take it back?

I do not know. The last time the boundaries were clearly set. This time, I did not ask, and Will did not act, so I do not know. Will tells me hearts may be returned - certainly his Queen of Hearts could both take and give. Whether he himself could, I do not know, and she is, of course, not here. Whether any other could... you would have to ask Will

[There's a flash of irritation in her eyes, so strange when one is so used to seeing Celebrían as gentle and kind.]

Then ask him I will. And then you and I will speak again when this is a part of you once more. ['When' not 'if.' And she's hardly giving him a choice. Celebrían is upset, very upset.]

[ Ordinarily, of course, that irritation would have garnered an immediate response. Instead he nods, as blank as if she had told him that it would rain tomorrow, or that dinner was served ]

As you wish. Should I tell Will that you wish to speak to him?

[That only irritates her more. This is not the Maglor that Elrond told her stories of, the Maglor that she'd grown to love while here. Who she trusted, especially when he'd seen her at her worst and nearly her weakest.]

Please do.

[ The response to the direct order is immediate, eyes blanking even further ]

I will tell Will that you wish to speak to him.

[Not what she was expecting. In fact, it's surprising enough that the irritation vanishes from her eyes.]

Uncle?

[ A blink and the blankness is gone, retreating back to the quiet emptiness of before ]

I told Will, as instructed.

[The irritation that vanished is suddenly replaced by confusion.]

As instructed? That was not-

[ A blink at her and Maglor repeats her instruction back ]

I was told to inform Will that yo wished to speak to him. I have done so.

Well... Yes, I wanted you to tell him but-

['You act as if you had no choice.']

[ He tips his head sideways in mild confusion, the most emotion he's showed all conversation ]

You told me to, so I did?

You acted differently than you might. As if you had no choice.

[ Another curious blink ]

...Did I? [ He shrugs a little ] You told me to, Celebrian. [ ... yeaaaaaaah he really doesn't get it ]

Well yes, I would prefer he knew I would be contacting him but I would have whether or not you had forewarned him. You did not have to.

[ Head. Tilt? ]

But you told me to do so, Celebrian. [ Confused forever on this end ]

[She's beginning to feel like she's not going to get anywhere with this.]

Since when do you so dutifully obey your niece?

Edited 2014-07-31 23:55 (UTC)

[ An accurate assessment ]

Since you asked it of me, Celebrian?

[ Quietly puzzled forever ]

[She sighs, almost sounding exhausted.]

This gets us nowhere, uncle. We will talk later.

[ Obedient he nods ]

We will talk later.

[She just sighs again and slowly closes the locket. But not before one last thing:]

I love you, uncle Maglor.

[ She only has a confused blink in response ]

[Celebrían gives herself a little more time to think on what she wants to say and to give him a chance to readjust to having his heart back. There are things she wants to say, things she should and shouldn't say. And she knows she has to keep herself in control, desperate to keep from ruining the relationship she has with Maglor.]

We need to talk, uncle.

[ The return of his heart had been... not entirely a surprise (a week and a day, he wished for the first time), but a pleasant one all the same (for they had not know if it would hold true this time as well) - once again, he has gone pale and crumpled, the box vanishing as if it had never been, and his Light returned to him. Perhaps this time, it seemed more painful. He looks the way he did the first time - quiet, and pale, his Light flickering unsteadily (perhaps, if one looks closely, he is a little too pale) ]

Celebrian. What is it, little niece? [ The endearment he has not used the whole time he was heartless ]

[She remains soft because she knows how he must be feeling now. And she'd be blind not to see the flickering of his Light or how pale he is. So she keeps herself and her voice as gentle as she can, considering the subject at hand. And she tries not to let it show how much the endearment means to her.]

I told you that we would speak when you had your heart back.

So you did [ He manages a smile for her, even ]

Do not be angry at Will, little niece - he truly did nothing, this time - neither of us expected this. And even the first, he acted only out of concern for me.

I cannot help but be a little angry with him, uncle, for it is by his doing that you were in such a state. [Family is important to her. Very important to her. So much so that she could be pushed towards violence for their sake.] And that this is not the first time does not make it any better.

That was... a piece of you, an important piece of you, that appeared with me. Your light.

I know [ he dips his head in apology ] - but Will has only ever acted in what he thought my best interests - that they were not necessarily wise is as much my fault as his. He is a good friend, little niece, insofar as his lack of heart permits him to be.

[ He looks away ] Aye - I learnt that the hard way, eh? I am sorry Celebrian.

He suffers bias on that method, of course he would have recommended it. [She thinks very little of removing a heart, can you tell?]

Have you learnt though? Or will this happen again? Have you any idea what you became in that state?

He does - perhaps he will learn differently in time.

I did not mean it on this occasion, little niece - I swear. I promised all of you I would not make such a wish again, and I swear to you no matter how dearly I have wished to, I have not spoken the words. That it happened again... I do not know if it might again. Will has no experience of this either - this has never been the case, so far as he knows.

Some part of you must have if that was the result. Look at yourself now, you are worse for this than you would otherwise have been. You have gained nothing from it, then or not. You avoided your pain rather than overcome it.

You are stronger than that, so much stronger. There are those who are not so strong as you who had no such option and still found their way back to the light. As you could.

You have seen and faced things that no other could have and you lived. And you have seen such wondrous things that can never been seen again, things that should not be forgotten. You seem to dwell on all the horrid things now rather than the good.

[She pauses.] You are stronger than I ever was, or ever could be. I found my way back to the light without losing a part of myself, you can as well.

Am I? [ a small broken smile ] I do not feel so, little niece. It is easier to see the grief than it is the wonder, these days.

Perhaps I did wish it - I grow so weary of the way the curse dogs my every step. Even in a different world it follow us. But I did not mean to, and I am sorry - I know it grieves you, and I would not have willingly done it again.

[Firmly:] You are, I know that you are. You only feel this way now because you felt nothing these past days and now you feel it all again.

We are your family, you should let us help you find the wonder in the world again. Curse or no, I will not abandon my family, I will not leave you to your own.

If you must, ask your queen for relief. Or I will ask mine.

[ all his emotions are back, aye - including his rage at the Queens - and that suggestion draws a snarl ]

And put myself in debt to them who brought us here and did not stop either my brother or Clarisse? No!

[ but again and again, the fire gutters out, with nothing to sustain it ] Not for this. I do not trust them, Celebrian.

Edited 2014-08-02 14:41 (UTC)

[She flinches but it's almost barely noticeable. She expected that reaction from him. She expected it and had braced herself for it.]

Have I ever claimed to trust them myself? No, I do not trust them. Queen Solais has been generous but she has never once given me real reason to trust in her.

[That's hardly important.]

But it would not be a debt owed to them but one they would owe you. Have they not taken much from us already and given little in turn?

Aye [ A dark scowl - Solais, especially, he feels has much to answer for - If she cared at all for them, she ought to have acted ]

[ A sigh and he shakes his head ]

They have taken much, and seem inclined to take more. Do not worry for me, little niece - I will... I will find a way to manage. I suspect the more we meddle the worse it will be, in any case.

[Celebrían would make no effort to defend Solais.]

I will always worry for you, uncle. Just as I think mother would and Elrond would were he still here. [Her hand moves to the pendant.] Then we need not meddle. They offer us gifts, boons, in return for certain deeds performed.

It would not be difficult to ask such when next something simple arises. As the ainsels did.

[ I still do not understand why you would he does not say, for he understands that family is not... always unbiased in such matters ]

As kind-hearted as ever. Thank you for the offer, little niece - only do not put yourself in debt for me eh? I will manage.

I will not but do not think that, should the opportunity arise, I will waste it.

[Definitely biased, this one.]

Only if you cannot use it for something better suited to yourself. [ firm ] I will manage, Celebrian. And... I will not willingly take anything from the hand of one whose inaction in large part brought about this war and my brother's death.

Even when it would be more to your advantage than to hers?

[ A considering pause and he shrugs a little ] From Morla, I might take such, if I could see it so. But not ever from Solais.

[ Hi, guess who we lay the biggest portion of the blame on ]

[She can tell.]

I trust neither the seelie or unseelie monarchs uncle, should I ask, please do not deny what I offer. Whether it come initially from Solais, it would be my gift for you.

[ He tips his head in a bow to her, a quiet little smile in his eyes ]

And who am I, to refuse Galadriel's fair daughter? If it comes from your hand, little niece, I will not refuse it. But do not put yourself in debt for me.

You would have a very upset niece. [She sighs softly, relaxing.] I will not. When I ask for it, it will because they owe something to me.

[ a quiet nod and he smiles again for her ]

You are far too kind to me Celebrian. Thank you.

I have only ever been as kind to others and they had shown they deserve.

Hm, perhaps. There are many who would argue otherwise, in regards to me, little niece.

[ But he won't, since he's already established she's as stubborn as her mother ]

I do not care what they might say. You have earned my love and kindness.

[Stubborn as both her parents.]

[ the smile she gets is a little more solid, a little more real ]

You truly are a good match for him, Celebrian, a heart as wide as the ocean.

I am glad that you think so, uncle. For a long time, I did not think I was worthy of his affections.

[You know, during those two thousand years where he said nothing.]

[ an amused huff ] I suspect he might say the same. You are a credit to your parents, little niece. If there is one thing I might be grateful for, it is this chance to know you.

Perhaps he might although I would think much of his reason may lie in the fact that many find my parents frightening. [No idea where they got that idea.]

I am glad I have had this chance, too.

Hm. Well I cannot speak of your father, but I imagine anyone who could keep up with Artanis would be fearsome indeed if he wished it. And my cousin... well. She is grown great, and it would not surprise me that others find her... intimidating.

Oh yes, he can be very frightening at times. Only ever when he has needed to be though. You would need t meet him. [Which is likely never to happen.]

Mother is the greatest. [There is so much bias here.]

Hm [ A small little smile ] Oh, I have no doubt I would find him terrifying, little niece - and I do not think I need to meet him to know that. [ Since, you know, Celeborn's reaction would probably be to try & take his head ]

She is rather special, although I think you a little biased there niece.

Perhaps not. [The smallest of smiles. And yes, that probably would be his first impulse.]

Are not all who have met her biased in some way?

Mm, that is probably a fair assessment. [ the smile is quiet and faint, but the spark in his eyes is real enough ] She always did like to... make an impression.

I do not think that has changed much.

[She's glad he's showing some reaction, that it's genuine.]

Hm, no it certainly does not seem to have, eh? Only her method of doing so. You should ask her how she made an impression at the banquet for her fifteeth begetting day. Finrod was laughing for weeks afterwards every time it was brought up.

Oh? [Her brows go up curiously.] I will certainly have to ask. Uncle Finrod mentioned nothing like it while I have been in Aman.

[ That even manages a low chuckle ]

He would not, I imagine - he was always a kind one, and not likely to spread rumors too unkind when the one at fault was not there! Besides, he was as much to blame as her, that day!

Well, he did tell me a few stories, just a few. How she got into everything and caused some trouble. [Laughing softly.] You leave me very curious now.

Hm, I imagine he would not have been able to keep entirely silent. But you had best ask your mother for further tales, lest she decide to seek revenge on me!

I would not tell her. Oh please? You cannot tell me something like that and then choose to keep silent, it is completely unfair.

[ For the first time this conversation she wins a small wicked smile from him and he wags his finger at her ]

Oh no no no, she will already be cross that I have told you this much! I do not fancy being on the receiving end of her wrath again, especially as there are no statues of me to desecrate!

I would not tell her though. [She pouts some more, giving her uncle her most pleading of looks.] Pleeease?

[ Ohh no, he knows that look - no, no, no, we are not looking nope ]

I think not! I love you dearly Celebrian, but I fear your mother more. Bad enough the last time!

[Continues pouting. Over 5,000 years old but dang it, she will still bust out a pout when there's something she really wants and thinks it will work.]

She would never know, I promise. At least, I will say nothing to her.

[ noooooo not the pout he is weak to the pout that is cheating little niece! ]

And will you protect me from her inevitable revenge when she finds out then little niece? I do not fancy a repeat of the Fountain Incident!

Edited 2014-08-14 09:37 (UTC)

[She does what she has to!]

You will be safe, I promise. Now come on, tell me something?

[ Aaaaaaaugh curse his weakness for pouting ellith! ]

[ He throws up his hands and shakes his head at her ]

Very well, but you swear you will not tell your mother I told you this story!

[She raises her hands up, looking more than a little gleeful.]

I will not tell her a thing, I promise.

[ Maglor sighs and shakes his head]

Very well as then. The things I do for you [ he grumbles fondly ]

You know, I think, how your mother was something of a tomboy growing up? She had a reputation for destroying dresses, indeed, she often lamented that she was forced to wear them at all! For her fifteeth begetting day, one of especial magnificence was commissioned for her. It was a lovely thing, dripping in pearls and exquisitely embroidered. Much to her displeasure, it also had long heavy drop sleeves and an equally long train. Hardly easy to move in. She raged angrily at all of us that she was no delicate jewel to be displayed so, but we all knew she would wear it, for it was a gift from grandfather. Finrod took her aside, comforting her that at the least it was only one time. He then suggested that it would make a lovely short dress and cape later.

Imagine the look on everyone's faces when she walked into the banquet hall, skirt chopped scandalously short and the train turned into a lovely cape, drop sleeves elaborately tied in ribbons to keep them out of the way!

She looked beautiful and dangerous and utterly not like a 'delicate jewel' - but a magnificent one all the same! We knew Finrod had helped - no one ties ribbons like he does. And Amarië as well, based on the tailoring. More than one ellon lost their heart to her that night! And she set a new fashion trend in Alqualonde as well as Tirion. Fortunately, grandfather found it funny as well, although her parents, perhaps less so!

Edited (stupid ellith names) 2014-08-16 12:09 (UTC)

[She listens intently, a smug little smile on her face at her apparent victory against Maglor. He can probably even see her as she imagines it all as he tells her the tale.

Her mouth actually drops open when he reaches the part where her mother had cut the skirt of the dress and changed it before the banquet, before everyone had seen it in its original glory.

At the same time though-] I suppose I was not so different from her when I was young. I ruined a great many fine dresses.

[ siiiiiiiigh curse ellith and their pouty eyes ]

I am not entirely surprised to hear that [ he answers wryly ] - with Galadriel as your mother, indeed I think I would be rather curious if you did not.

[And yet, he still loves her.]

I thought you might not be. Surprisingly though, it was mother who was often more displeased about my dresses ruin.

[ Somehow, this is true. Curse his fondness for fiesty ellith S I G H ]

Hm, I suppose she would be! After all, it is now her who makes or pays for them!

[Curse seems accurate. He is forever cursed with feisty ellith that have pouty eyes ~~and can seemingly wrap him around their finger~~.]

She should have seen it coming.

[ Yes. Whhhyyy what did he do to deserve... don't answer that. Also he has the sinking feeling Celebrian would get along great with Falmamiriel ]

Apparently in this one area, at least, Galadriel's famed foresight failed her!

[She very likely would. But then, she gets along great with a number of people.]

Unfortunately so! It seems fitting now that ruining her own dresses should have come back to haunt her in the form of her own daughter.

[ Sob. Story of his life - bossed around by beautiful fiesty ellith. ... Could be worse he supposes ]

So it does! Perhaps all her past indiscretions will come back that way as well. Tell me, little niece, were you as fond of mud pies as she was?

[Could be much worse. There could be children wrapping him around their fingers too.]

How fond was she? I know that I made them often and I tried to give one to one of the guards once.

[ ... good thing Curufin was the only one who reproduced huh ]

Hm, much like you, she enjoyed greatly making them - but more, she enjoyed throwing them. At whoever upset her at the time. I do believe she once got into a fight with Irisse... sorry, Aredhel - no one put them in white for at least a Tree year after that.

[Or he could have visited Imladris while the twins or Arwen were growing up.]

Oh, I did not throw them. Often. [Once in awhile there had been someone who got on her young nerves. Like a trader patronizing her and then things just... happened.]

I can barely imagine that. Mother has always had a fondness for while, that I can remember.

She might now, but oh, you should have heard the tantrums back in the day. Between her and Aredhel, it sometimes felt like a competition as to which of them could ruin their lovely white dresses faster.

I cannot imagine that mother lost it very often. If ever she has wanted to do something, little could stop her.

Oh that last was as true then as it doubtless is now. But do not let her calmness decieve you! She has a tmper, has your mother, and a way of getting even!

Oh no, I would never. I have never seen her temper, truly, but I have been scolded. I was certainly frightened then, even if it was barely a fraction of her upset.

[ Maglor smiles a little wryly in reminiscence ]

Oh, I do not doubt that she could be terrifying if she so chose. But in Valinor the greatest terror was never being sure how she would exact her revenge later!

She certainly could, that is not a skill easily lost I think. [She laughs.]

Was she really so creative that you all lived in terror of it?

Oh yes - she had a knack for knowing exactly what you most did not want, and finding the most humiliating way of giving you exactly that. She did not always indulge so, of course - which only made it worse, for you were never certain if this was going to be that time.

Ooh, she really was quite terrible. I would hope you all learned your lessons quickly so that you would have been able to avoid her revenge.

Ah now, I would like to think I certainly did, but we were young and the fire of life was strong in all of us in those days. Many in the family dared her temper, knowing she would never truly hurt them, for the sheer thrill of it, I sometimes think.

[ If he was one of them, he does not say ]

[Some part of her is sure that he was.]

No doubt she made them all regret it each and every time. I wonder if ever she failed to make it creative though with how often you all much have tried her so.

[ Maglor shrugs cheerfully back at her ]

That you will have to ask her, I think. Certainly I never noticed a lack!

I think that I will. Who better to ask than the source herself!

Who better indeed [ he nods wryly ] - just do not tell her who told you eh? I would rather not learn if she remains as creative as she was then.

I will be sure not to mention your involvement. I would not want you to suffer so at her hands again.

Why thank you kindly, little niece! [ is the wry retort ] I am glad to escape one such tongue lashing! For a little while, at the least.

[A soft laugh.] At least I can do that much for you.

Thank you, little niece.

[ for everything ]

You do not have to thank me, uncle.

Perhaps not, but I do, in any case.

Then you are welcome.

[ Here is a face you may remember, and a voice you may recognize ]

Maglor.

I am sorry, for your loss, and whatever part, unwilling, I played in it.

[ There is a pause. ]

But, as one I would claim at least something of a friend, and for Celebrimbor's sake, I would tell you what I know of it.

You know, of course, of Clarisse's network post. Afterwards, Celegorm decided to ride out with an army, with the intention to set siege to the castle and retrieve the 'silmaril'. [ He hesitates over the word, uncertain of its pronunciation ]

Many of the Seelie spotted a large army on the march towards Caer Glaem, and fearing another incursion much like the one months previous, but with more manpower, we tried to gather and fight to defend the castle. There are children, teachers, all manner of non-combatants who call Caer Glaem their refuge, many of which were drawn here by the monarchs for a war they are ill-equipped to fight, if they even desire to.

In light of that, we gathered to fight, an head of the Unseelie forces, while others sought to evacuate the castle of those who could not defend themselves, should the worst occur. Many of us did not know the reasoning for the battle until almost two days into it, and some did not even know until your pronouncement that was broadcast over the network.

It should not have happened. I will forever regret not catching sight of Clarisse sooner, to know of the battle and its intentions. I regret not pushing harder once the trade was decided, for there are ways to die that lend themselves to resuscitation, for the body can remain dead for a matter of minutes before it is too late to save.

[ He is silent. For all of his regrets, there is little he can do of them, and even then it likely could not have changed the tide. ]

If I can assist you in any way, do not hesitate to ask. You can consider it a debt owed, if nothing else.

[ Maglor uses voice so as not to betray how badly the return of his heart has affected him - exhausted and tired and wrung to the limits of his endurance, but the voice is cool and distant, the proud prince rather than the gentle bard ]

Kaldur'ahm. I know of the way Clarisse flung my family's treasure in our faces, for was I not one of the first to answer? It was not just Celegorm's threats she refused but my pleading, also - and it was I who spoke before my brother. She was warned, and Celegorm fulfilled his part. I do not hold the Seelie at fault for defending their own, but I do cast fault against your queen, who despite my warning did nothing to prevent it. I cast fault against those who call her friend, and who did not act to stop her. I cast fault against those who let her go through with my brother's execution.

I do not blame you.

I thank you for the kindness of your thought. Yet I will take nothing from the hand of any who hold with the courts or who stand with Clarisse.

Edited 2014-08-02 08:26 (UTC)

(... and dwelling and feeling a bit sick about it but after redgate and now the drabkeep castle he has to ask.)

You are, of course, under no obligation to answer me, but for the safety and well-being of those whom I hold dear, and damn the courts for their false divisions of them.

[ He hates asking this. He hated asking it of Alyosha and that went terribly, but if the Drabkeep can offer neither safe haven nor knowledge of one, and Artemis is alone, and Nico is searching for the Black Shuck, and Alyosha was dead and then alive... ]

Your brother... did he, before his passing, or you bearing him, after it, have any encounters with the Black Shuck, or the Black Dog that guards death.

This world is strange and I... I am forced to suspect that Death is not necessarily permanent. [ Quieter, then. ] In my world, such is not unheard of, though rare does one come back alive the same.

[ Vague surprise, as he was not... expecting to hear from Kaldur again but... Maglor knows the pain of kin sundured on opposite sides. However there's the part about how Celegorm does not... actually want to tell people he's alive, so he has to be careful about his answer ]

I saw and heard nothing, and if there was a Black Dog present before, none of those who were with my brother have spoken of such to me. In fairness, the world might have fallen around me and like as not I would not have cared. [ Could not, as he had been heartless, but Will guarded him well and would have said something ]

But none have said to me that they saw anything like what you are describing. [ Celegorm included ]

[ Kaldur exhales, a quiet form of blessing. He regrets that this conversation ever occur, but Nico needs to know, and for Kaldur's own sake, he is quite done seeing attempted assassinations the only family he has when he can do nothing, and they have done nothing, to warrant such.

He is tired of watching his family die. Or disappear. In any world, much less this one. ]

Thank you. I am sorry, to force you to revisit such memories.

[ A pause, and another exhale ]

And, I confess, I am grateful, that you have not had to suffer watching one you love die and return, changed. The the magic of this world and my own are different, I have never heard of such a thing occurring differently.

Those brought back to life can be so easily twisted, whether it is a change visible on the skin, or elsewhere.

Again, Maglor, I thank you, and I am sorry for your grief.

You needed the information - I gave it freely.

[ Changed? Maglor wonders and smiles a little I suppose that he is a little calmer. A bit more the brother I remember from Valinor, and not the merciless butcher of Middle-earth but he says nothing - Celegorm does not wish it known, and so he will not tell. But his brother's light burns clear again, untangled from its snares, and Valar willing with Nerdanel here they may keep it so. He takes the warning to heart however - once he is assured his friends and kin here are safe, he will head back out and keep an eye on Celegorm ]

And I am sorry that your world would afflict you so. It is not... quite the same for us as for you - Death is unnatural to the Eldar. In our own world, those of us whose hroa - bodies - are slain - their fear go to the Halls of Waiting where they may, in time, be reborn. What this world may do I know not, but I hope that you will not know that grief again.

[ It is dark around him, surrounded by old stone. The light of the locket is the only light to see by, and it illuminates his face as he begins to sob. ]

Brother, brother, brother, please, please, please...

[ The answer is slow and curiously blank - Maglor's eyes are empty, and the music gone from his voice ]

Celegorm? Ah... I dream again it seems. Hush, little brother.

[ Next to Celegorm, the little ainsel presses close against him and chimes worriedly at him Told you. Something's wrong ]

Edited 2014-08-08 14:51 (UTC)

I AM NO DREAM!

[ The shriek, thick with terror, becomes a sob. ]

Help me! Help me, I'm trapped in the stone!

You always say that. [ But not the tearing grief it should be but quiet and empty resignation ] Every time. But you have to be, you know - twice now, I have had to watch you die. And every night you call to me, because I could not save you. And every morning you are still not here... there are only ashes.

[ But, despite the lack of heart, there is something in him that still cannot bear to watch his brother suffer - quiet and pale, a hand reaches to brush the surface of the locket ]

Does it move, little brother? Cold stone does not suit you. Tis always fire for us - push it away. Little one, are you there? Help him.

[ The little ainsel huffs indignantly, what is she supposed to do then? But obediently she brightens her glow, flying up as guide ]

[ Celegorm is laying down, it seems-- entombed in a stone crypt. But the light of the little fairy reveals that the heavy stone he had felt above him is a little ajar. Just enough of a crack for him to wrpggle a few fingers, and then, a hand, through. Towards the light.

Panting, locket still clutched in one hand, he shoves at the stone. It grates a little, but will not be moved. Even bracing his feet together against the bottom of the lid and shoving with all fours only slides it a very little. ]

I'm trapped.

I'm still trapped.

[ A small flicker of concern, at that ]

Hush hush. Don't panic. You know that only makes things worse. Little One, where is he?

[ a cross little chime, good grief but where would the two of you be without me! The castle, of course! It's so creepy here! ]

Too far for me, even in a dream... if I told her to find help, little brother, would you be well?

[ Celegorm bared his teeth like a wild thing, as if he might snap-- ... and paused, seeing the hollow-eyed familiar face, blinking back more tears. ]

N-no. I shall call for those I trust. And your fairy, your fairy may be the light for us. The light in the dark.

I'm still bloodied, where I felt the blade struck, brother. I... I cannot move it alone. I must find my own help.

[ A flicker of recognition ]

A blade... yes. You were... I remember. Dior's spear. And that girl. Are you still hurt, then? Call for aid, for I can not reach you, and she and I, we will stay here until the morning wakes me.

[La Llorona is a haven, if only because of Ariadne's presence. His time at the Station had been restful, for the most part, but Aubri found traveling away from it a relief that he couldn't quite articulate. There's no reminder of war here, where Ariadne has built her home.

But there's one person who has been on Aubri's mind. He had heard rumor of Maglor in the Station, but had stayed away. (He's an old fool and coward of a bird.) So, when he's safely away and feeling a little more like himself, he sends one short message.]

Who told you that you could stop talking to me?

[ For most, Maglor has stuck to only voice, for his voice is the one thing the lost bard of the Noldor has always had exquisite control over. But Aubri his family has wronged, and badly, and he deserves the video. So Aubri gets to see him as he is, right now - pale and his Light flickering (flickering beneath his skin, a fire that consumes from the inside out) - but his voice is as steady as ever, and his face betrays nothing - the mask of the Prince, of the High King, distant and remote (but the madness lurks so very very close now, there in the back of his eyes) ]

None, Master Aubri. Yet I did not think you wanted more to do with the brother of your torturer.

[Well, he does look awful. Aubri is quiet for a moment, his bravado failing in the face of Maglor's appearance. He finally huffs.]

I rarely know my own mind. I do not need others to know it for me. I called you a friend, Maglor-who-is-not-a-fish. I am not so easily swayed.

[ a faint, quiet smile that never quite reaches his eyes ]

Even for such a sin as that? You have a wide and generous heart if so, Master Aubri.

No. I'm just an old fool.

Perhaps. Even when I tell you I love him, my tempestous brother who hurt you so? Even knowing that were he standing before me I would draw him into my arms and wipe away his tears? I do not want you to be caught between, Master Aubri.

He is your brother. Family. [Aubri understands those bonds, as much as he can, having built his own little un-related family. He will never question the strength of them.] I will walk where I will, my friend, and I will be who I am. If I am caught between, then so be it.

[A pause, and a sigh.] I am bitter over it. I cannot deny that. I have not -- and may not ever -- forgive nor will I forget. But it was not your bolt that struck me, nor your nets that held me.

Yes. [ Quiet and resigned ] Although I suppose he is only a ghost again, now. Just like before... so perhaps you will not have to, Master Aubri.

Not mine... but I wonder if I could have prevented it, in any case.

[Aubri breathes deeply, biting back his condolences. Forasmuch as he hurts for Maglor, he cannot regret Celegorm's death. He will not lie to Maglor.]

It's done. Wondering over it will do you little good.

No, I suppose this is true. I cannot change what has already been - I am only sorry that it must happen this way. [ again is probably implied ]

Do you heal well, at the least Master Aubri?

I am healing well, my friend. [It's a deliberate choice of words. He's worried over Maglor.] I have taken to the skies again.

[ The answering smile is sweet and bitter ]

I am glad - none should be denied their rightful birthright, and no one with wings should be grounded.

Your heart is a great one indeed, Aubri-who-is-a-gryphon. You are kinder than I would be, in that situation [ cold but relentless does Maglor's hatred burn, and perhaps not even old friends might he yield for - but they will never know, now ]

I tend not to compare my heart to those of others. I do not know that it is great.

[He sighs.] Maglor, I still call you a friend.

I sometimes wish that none would... but I can not command the hearts of others, and to attempt to do so would be a grave sin indeed.

You do me great honor, Aubri.

[Will lets the locket fall for a moment while he pokes at a very tired and pale Maglor]

Mags, think your mum's here now. Come on, Mags, up you get.

[ Maglor stirs easily but he still looks unwell ]

Mother? We left her behind. I am only dreaming.

I have settled at the Station, uncle. Is Arwen well?

[Right to business, yes. Her daughter. Worrying. Fretting. It's happening.]

You travel fast, little niece, but aye she is. She is armed, now - her brothers, she said, saw to it that she learnt. Only one of the blades from the armory for the moment, until we can get to a forge, but it is a good one and will serve her well.

Shall I bring her tonight?

We had already been traveling so that we might return to Caer Glaem. I merely chose to return to the Station instead. And my horse was kind, he rushed when he learned how much it meant to me. He will need a great deal of rest now though.

[Poor thing. She'd have to bring him an apple later. And one of those sugar cubes they sell in the Station shops.]

If she feels up to traveling again so soon.

The trip takes little effort, with thanks to the boon-ring. [ Maglor shrugs wryly ] And I think she will be as eager to see you as you are to see her! She will be hard pressed to wait til moonrise.

A ring? [He hasn't mentioned that before though boons were recently handed out as she discovered.]

She may be. It has been so long since we saw one another. I did not want to leave any of them.

Mm, a boon gift, when I asked for a way to travel without the fairy rings - something which could carry more would be useful, of course, but I suspect this will get good use as well.

I am sure you did not - what mother would? But you are reunited here, and I am happy for you.

A useful one. [More useful, it almost seems, than her mark.] It means that you might see us more often then.

Thank you, uncle. It means a great deal to me to see her again. And even more that you are making it possible.

Very much so - and being a ring, I suspect I might gift it, also, if I need to.

[ That almost shy duck of his head ]

It is no trouble, Celebrian, and the least I can do.

If you need to but I suspect you will make great use of it.

[You're sometimes kind of adorable, uncle Maglor.]

All the same, uncle. I cannot wait to see you both.

[ Am not ]

I think I might, aye. I will look forwards to it as well, little niece. Until tonight!

[Are too.]

Until tonight then.

There is one I wish for you to meet - at your convenience, of course. His name is Stefen and -

He is my shay'kreth'ashke. [He loves saying that and knowing it's true. Without his lover's support, he doubts he would be in such a stable place currently.] His Gift is a rarity. He can sing pain away.

A strange gift indeed, Vanyel - one that must be highly prized, no doubt. [ Vanyel does not see, but pain spasms across his face and Maglor's hand goes to his heart, his Light flickering once, drawing a concerned look from his brother. Shaking his head he mouths Bad memories, and his voice stays steady and calm ]

And what does that word mean, bardling?

It is put to great use in Valdemar. Our King suffers from an unknown malady that causes him great pain. Stefen is the only one who can give him relief.

[He only wishes he met Stefen sooner.]

He is my Life-Bonded.

The healers cannot aid him? It must be a grievous malady indeed, although I know little of the illnesses of Men. I am glad he has, at least, the aid of your beloved. Fortunate are you to have your heart with you! I would be honored to meet him, Vanyel, although I know not how this might be accomplished.

His Life-Bonded is a Healer. She is incredibly skilled, but - [He sighs sadly.] I am fortunate. The Drabworld separated me from the other half of my heart. Perhaps it wanted to amend that by giving me my future love.

[His brow furrows in thought and he is silent for a moment.]

The locket would suffice.

Oh? And is not the other half of your heart also your love? [ confused ]

If that would suit, Vanyel, I would be honored.

My heart has been given to two. [Well...three, but only two of the three are alive.] My Companion Yfandes is the other half of my heart. Where Stefen is my romantic love; she is...my family. I see her as a mother of my soul - or perhaps a sister of my soul.

Companions are otherworldly beings that Choose those who are meant to be Heralds. Once a Companion bonds with someone, the bond cannot be broken except through death.

[His voice is sad but he quickly recovers.]

I will tell him, thank you.

Ah, I see! You had mentioned that one was chosen - I see that the statement carried a significance that I did not understand. How do the Companions choose?

But for such a bond to be sundered by the Drabwurld's capricious rulers...I am sorry that you must be parted so, Vanyel. You do not suffer unduly for it?

Whatever time suits you bardling.

[ There's a text from Kelsi with coordinates just outside the Unseelie territory. If Maglor ventures, there's a small box containing a few homemade bags of tea and a handwritten note: ]

❤Maglor❤
Thank you for putting up with me and all of my questions! You have so much patience. I really admire you, so I'm giving you my favourite blend of tea. I hope Elves can drink it! Maybe if you just smell it a lot, you'll get the same effect?
♬Kelsi Nielson

P.S. Sorry I had to make you walk, none of the fairies wanted to deliver to Unseelie.☻

[ It is after dark when the reply comes back, Maglor taking advantage of his ring to fetch it himself rather than send his ainsel ]

Thank you, brave heart. I will enjoy trying this, and will think of you when I do. It is always a joy to teach those eager to learn, and I am happy to answer whatever questions you have.

Dear fellow shard bearer,

I was hoping I might be able to have a chat with you about a couple of things, at the behest of Higgin, the majordomo of Caer Scima. I'm looking to take note of your current whereabouts and any special abilities you may have or may have been granted by Morla.

I appreciate that this is actually very forward, but you'd be doing me an incredible favour by getting in touch.

Sincerely,
Kieren Walker

A strange request. One might wonder why? I am not overly fond of having my movements tracked.

Uncle, I wonder if you might do a favor for me?

Of course little niece. What do you require?

Young miss Alice, I have asked her to accompany me to Thranduil's Yule celebration in I Othrann-in-Heneb but she asked that she not go alone.

[She thought of Maglor immediately, with how he'd kept her safe so often here. And she'd thought of bringing him but she still isn't sure how well that would be received.]

Ahh, yes. I had heard news that the Elvenking wished to celebrate something. [ What is elves celebrating Yule isn't that a human tradition its just an excuse to drink isn't it ]

Mm, do you need aid in travelling, little niece?

[Very likely an excuse to drink but it's not a terrible idea. If only to have a little fun.]

I may. The Great Greenwood may prove difficult to traverse, I have never been there.

[ He will have to find a way to troll Thranduil for the lack of invitation, even if it really is no surprise ]

Fortunately enough I have! And often, as it was where the young prince had his camp and my brothers and I were all there but recently. I think me the campsite is likely close to the Elvenking's demense as well.

[ Oh look, method of trolling found ]

[Oh, uncle Maglor...]

Fortunate indeed! You can keep us from becoming too lost. [Especially since Celeborn and Galadriel would probably worry if she got lost and never showed up.]

[ Look it's perfectly understandable, but it's still a bit rude and Maglor feels entitled to a little harmless trolling ]

I will do my very best!

[She supposes she can't begrudge him.]

Thank you, uncle.

[ He won't annoy him too much, promise ]

Tis no trouble, little niece.

[Good. And don't get killed either, Maglor.]

I will see you soon, then.

[ Aye aye ]

Until then!

[ Alice's imps will leave a card, in addition to a cannister of loose-leaf tea that she's blended herself, in a strange tea cup. If you feel so inclined, there's a small box of cookies she's made. A Wonderland signature, but still very much an Alice thing to do. ]

[ Delivered by raven is recipe book for French cuisine and a small music box that plays "Frère Jacques". ]

I have a favor to ask of you. Legolas asked me to speak with the Neurwë clan - offer them refuge in I Othrann-in-Heneb. I leave with a guide and a few guards soon, should I need assistance... [You know, in case everything hits the fan] Might I call on you?

Of course, silme. Go careful. If you need me, try and find a tavern - I have, I think, been to all of them by now. If not, get outside and find a place to defend yourself, and I will be there as soon as I may.

I hope it will not be needed, but I believe it will ease the worries of some of the others. [She will also not be travelling unarmed. No, that was an added danger she did not intend to take on.] Thank you.

I hope the same - go with the stars to light your path, Arwen.

[Muscovy has been asleep for weeks when he suddenly shows up at Maglor's side and speaks up.] I found a place for us to stay, but you or Mr Maedhros must speak to him because I am too small, yes? [Because obviously nobody would make a contract with someone whose status is perceived as a dependent child and in truth is that of a dependent territory.]

Edited 2015-01-11 12:22 (UTC)

[ Maglor startles, hand going to his sword before he recognises Muscovy and relaxes. The next thing Muscovy will know is Maglor pulling him into a tight hug ]

Oh Muscovy, you are awake!

[The reaction worries him, and it only really dawns on him now that he must have been asleep for longer than he thought he was. Sure, his body did feel odd and it seemed like he had been relocated while asleep, but...

but he has no time to ask how long he was gone, not while he is meant to fetch Maglor to speak to Jon, which is really important. So after letting the hug go on for a bit longer (because hugs are nice and warm and he won't ever really turn one down) and clinging back tightly, he pulls away just enough to pull his locket out of his pocket and hold it up for Maglor to see and talk to Jon.] I found us a place to go, but you must speak to him, yes?

A place to go? [ Maglor lets Muscovy pull back once he's had enough and blinks at him curiously ]

Alright, Muscovy.

[Muscovy will fall quiet, though he remains at the elf's side, and watch the two men speak, listening in closely and keep an eye on Maglor in hopes of the elf not being silly. If he is... he'll figure something out.]

[When the conversation ends and Maglor shuts the locket, Muscovy is very still in his lap. The urge to run is there (he has never quite managed to figure out what it is that makes bad things happen, but some patterns are there, and one of them is that unsuccessful diplomatic talks often do it. He isn't sure if this falls in that category, and he hasn't really gotten into any trouble since coming to stay with Maglor, but experiences of centuries aren't unlearned so easily, and the only time that he has seen the elf angry, the hounds were there to unleash the anger against), but he stays - not only because he is too well within reach of the older male, but also because there isn't really anywhere to run if he wants to stay with him in general, and he really wants to.

So he will only bite his lower lip and sit there, looking up at the elf and wait, very unhappy with how this turned out. ...actually, he'll speak up.] Why didn't you promise? That was very silly, it would not have been very hard.

[ Gently, Maglor resumes petting Muscovy's hair, letting him sort out what he wants to say ]

Because words are binding, Muscovy. [ He says sadly ] And it would be unfair and untrue to tell him something that I had no intention of keeping. I am sorry. I ruined all your hard work, hm?

He offered, and you turned him down. [Maglors reactions will never cease to confuse him, and he has a limited amount of understanding for them. Even with explanations. Words are not nearly as binding as Maglor says they are - they are binding for a time, until either party doesn't consider them binding anymore. He's seen that at work quite often.] He will be angry.

Yes. [ Gently, he keeps carding through Muscovy's hair ]

Mm, no, I do not think so, Muscovy. Sad, I think. But he would be far angrier if I promised him something and then broke my word. She has threatened him, I think. With what, I do not know, but the Lady Keeper is a sweet girl, and a fine young lady. I would prefer not to bring her trouble, if I can.

...He won't trust me now, if you send me there.

[And he doesn't want to leave Maglor's side. He has rarely felt as safe and warm as he does these days, and though such experiences are always fleeting - Maglor is technically immortal, from what he understands, so it doesn't have to be fleeting. He needs to become stronger, quickly, to keep this. Somehow... he will find a way.]

He will. [ Maglor says calmly ] Because you are Seelie, and because, I hope, he knows that if I send you to him, it is only because I have no choice. You need not stay long with him, Muscovy. My cousin Galadriel has agreed to care for you, if I cannot. She only asks that if you go to her, or to Celebrian, that you go without my mark. [ he taps the sigil ] You may ask either of them for theirs, for if it comes to that... I will not longer be able to protect you.

[He looks down at this belly and nods. It makes sense that it would not be wise to keep this if he comes to live with someone else, especially if it is because it isn't safe to stay with Maglor anymore. Picking carefully at the stitches, he wonders if it will be possible to take the star off, or put something over it...]

But I could keep these clothes, yes?

[Galadriel... he wonders if he has met Celebrian, though. Galadriel is nice, even though he isn't sure if her husband won't hate him.]

Mmhmm. For as long as you like. They are yours, after all. But it is not like one of the Eldar to turn away a child - or, well, in your case, a young one, eh? And Galadriel and Celebrian's protection will mean much, amongst my kin.

....even Galadriel's husband? [The part about that they will not turn away a child (or a young one, and in many ways that is a strange thing to Muscovy who is just used to people thinking of him as a child, even though he would sometimes prefer to be considered young instead... but really, he knows that he is a child, and would readily identify so). That one encounter that he had with him really didn't make him think that Celeborn will be happy about anything that even remotely resembles a Fëanorian being around his place, and though he isn't strictly one, he has stayed with Maglor too long already to not be connected with them at all, not in a place like this where everything seems to move much faster than what he is used to.]

Mmhmm. Celeborn hates my brother and I, but he is a good and honorable ellon. He will not turn away a child, e'en if that child is fostered with us.

[ Wryly ] I do not say that he will be pleased about it. But he will not turn you away.

[His fingers clutch Maglor's shirt at that. It... doesn't sound like a place that he wants to go to, either. There is a large difference between being allowed to stay with someone and it being a nice place to stay. A lot of people don't understand very well how you make a place nice for others to be in. ...One day, he will be strong enough to keep people with him, and then he will be better about that. Then everyone can have a nice time, or as nice as possible considering the situation, and they'll all be friends.

Celebrian doesn't stay with them, yes? [If she does... well. He didn't mean to leave Maglor's side, anyway. He'll just have to become strong enough to make sure that he can remain there.]

[ Maglor ruffles Muscovy's hair and his arm tightens around him fondly ]

I do not know, Muscovy. She is their daughter, so she might, but she is also an ellith grown. I do not know.

[But...]

Is she married? [= Does she have a different family that she could stay with? There are a select few other options how someone would enter a different protective context, but this really is the most likely one that he can think of.]

She is wed, aye - but her husband is not here.

Why wouldn't she be with her parents, then? [Considering that most occupations that would take a woman away from their family would demand that she be unwed, safe for that of a midwife and wetnurse, and he has serious trouble imagining someone that is related to Galadriel in either of those occupations. Too ...stately.]

[ A soft laugh ] Because she is full grown, and may make her own decisions. I do not doubt that she is far from them - they are a close family, from what I have seen, but equally so, I do think that necessarily means that she is always with them hm?

But a part of her house would also be a part of Celeborn's house.

[He won't leave Maglor's side, and in a way... that just makes things a lot less complicated. The nation slowly relaxes and settles in against the elf's chest.]

How long did I sleep?

I suppose you could see it that way. Or perhaps... mm, it is like ... adding an extra room, or ... a bridge between two houses. She belongs to both houses now.

Almost three full weeks. [ His arms tighten briefly around Muscovy ] I am so glad you are awake.

Edited 2015-01-15 13:30 (UTC)

[So there really is no better place to be than Maglor, or...

Hm.] Why didn't you ask your mother?

[He hugs Maglor back.] I did not get older while I was gone.

Because mother is busy, tithen pen. And... if things go wrong... she will be in as much danger as you. I bought her place with the Elvenking by promising my aid where it needed. I bought yours with my cousin's kind heart.

[ He drops a kiss to Muscovy's hair ]

I am glad.

[And yet another reason to become strong enough to be self-sustainable or stay with Maglor; he doesn't trust "Kind heart" as a motivation, not so much due to being jaded and distrusts people but because it just is the way of the world that good-will and pity run out a lot more quickly than being indebted to someone.]

If you fall asleep, you must return, too.

I will try, Muscovy. [ Maglor promises quietly, and pushes down the darkness that looks so tempting ] But while I sleep, if I sleep, promise me you will not linger by my side but seek safety.

...I will seek safety.

[Of whatever kind. But just for the very unfortunate case that both his mother and brother will be gone at a time like that, he will make sure that Maglor's body is safe first, and then find a way to wake him up again.]

Thank you. [ Maglor hugs him again ] If I know you are safe, it will be easier for me.

[For a moment, he wants to demand that Maglor promises him to come back for him, but Sweden came back and ...he didn't stay again, only raided.

So he modifies it.] But you'll come back for me and stay then.

So much as it is within my power, yes, Musocvy, I will.

[He doesn't look convinced (because he isn't) but snuggles a bit closer anyway and will remain that way for a while.]

[The storm came on the scream of a raptor; terrible and cold, it was as if fear itself had been given sound. Carried on a bitter cold wind, it reached even the ends of the Drabworld -- and it brought with it death. Underneath roiling clouds, given life by magic, the world froze. Ice and snow caught creatures where they stood, and trapped them for the death that they could not escape.

And the great bird -- so great it blacked out the sky itself -- still cried its hunt, Caer Scima standing starkly below it.

(And then a weary keen echoes it, and it would be a tone known to friends, as Aubri pulls himself from sleep.)]

[ Maglor is jerked from what passes for rest for him these days, reaching for the lockets and trying to reach for his friend ]

Aubri? Aubri are you well? What happened?

[It's a sleepy bird that answers, ear tufts drooping and moving slowly.]

Maglor?

Master Aubri, what happened? I ... I dreamt, and I heard you cry out.

You did? [Definite confusion there.] I did? [Pause] Oh. Well. Yes. I did.

[Pause again.] You did?

[ Panic fading to wariness and amusement ]

Aye. I am sorry. I have woken you, have I not? But it was a very terrible dream, and I feared for you.

Have no worry, my friend. [Aubri takes a moment to stretch and shake.] It was, wasn't it? Terrible, yes? I do not know what to make of it.

I am just glad you are well. [ A soft sigh ] Aye, a very terrible dream. You are not the only one, either. I too dreamt, although I do not think anyone saw mine, and it too was one of grief and darkness. Not the same as yours, I do not think!

I wonder... [He trails off, shakes his head. Memories had been shared before. Why not dreams? It's an odd thing, to be sure, but not exactly without precedent -- at least not here, in the Drabwurld.] What did you dream?

I... I dreamt...of the Station, and claws tearing it apart. A storm, and a tower. Like a fist reaching into the sky.

[ Maglor shudders ] It was far too reminiscent of Thangorodrim, where Maedhros my brother was enslaved.

A great creature and its only purpose is to bring death on the heels of a storm. It is too familiar to be called coincidence.

It is, is it not? I wonder what is coming - and who sought to give the warning.

I wonder if it is truly a warning.

Warning, or threat you mean? [ Maglor hums thoughtfully ] I do not know. Either way, the danger seems clear.

That is exactly what I mean. I suppose you are right, though: either way, we may well be in danger.

Mm. You are not near the Station, are you my friend? I think I will warn our friends to stay clear for now. Your dream of freezing cold makes me think of Muscovy's General Winter... or worse, the Frost Wyrms of my own world. Whether it is the same beast as in my dream I know not.

I have been spending most of my time near Caer Glaem. I have not visited the Station in some time now.

[A pause] Tell me more of this Winter? Of these Wyrms?

General Winter I do not know - he comes when Muscovy calls him and... I think he is not dissimilar a being to our young Jack Frost - a bringer of winter. Muscovy says he has a pact with him - protection for the permission of winter to rule his lands.

As for the Frost Wyrms... I do not know. They are whispers and rumors only. But in my world not all dragons breathe fire. The cold-drakes did not have flame at all, and rumor whispers that to some of them the Enemy gave breaths of frost and cold, instead.

Perhaps I will speak with both Muscovy and Jack Frost. They may have some insight that we do not.

What became of the Wyrms?

True, I did not think of that - although Muscovy, at least, has little understanding of the General, I think.

The Wyrms... I do not know. Rumor has it they vanished into the North, where the Snow Men live, but we did not have strongholds there. If Morgoth brought them down for the War I did not see them. Perhaps they are still there.

That such creatures can vanish so easily disturbs me.

Mm, although I suppose they were only rumor, in the beginning - perhaps they did not exist at all? Certainly, I never encountered any, although I have had plenty of experience with both the fire-drakes and the cold-drakes. And if they do exist, well... apart from the Lossoth there are precious few folk who live in the North, and the lands there are largely unexplored. Plenty of places to hide.

Perhaps a violent storm, the likes of which none have seen before, could be mistaken as the rage of such a creature -- but then something would have to fuel the storm. My world was torn apart by such storms, but they were the result of a magical cataclysm. Not a creature, perhaps, but created by powerful forces.

That is a possibility true, but the storms created by the Valar and Maia tended to ... have a certain feel to them. Even at the height of the War, I never noticed anything of the kind, although I suppose not all are as aware of the Song as I and my kin. Still, I hope they did not exist, else there is a threat in the cold watches of my world that might yet wake from slumber.

Are there not always threats slumbering somewhere?

[Aubri sighs heavily, shakes his head.] I did not mean to wake you, Maglor. You have my apologies. I... do not know how that happened.

True enough. But a dragon! That is a fell one indeed.

Nay, tis fine! I sleep little, these days. I wish I had an answer for you, but I know not.

And I have interrupted what little you get. [He's grousing, huffy, but it's all annoyance at himself.] I am truly sorry.

No, no! I was awake anyway. [ Maglor assures ] My dream was only a few minutes earlier than yours.

[He nods, somewhat mollified.] Still. It's odd. A trick of the Drabworld, perhaps.

Mm, I think so. I was never the one with foresight. [ Just a strangely prescient appreciation of the direction of the Song ] That gift went to my cousins, instead. Will you be well?

[Aubri huffs a quiet chuckle.] And so we are alike again. The gifts of the mind went to other gryphons. I will be fine. The dream was disconcerting but it is just that: a dream.

We always seem to find more similarities, eh? I wish I had know you in your world, Master Aubri, and not in this farce of a place.

You would have loved my city, I think.

I think I would have too. It sounds a lovely place, Master Aubri.

Lovely doesn't do it justice.

Tell me of her, again? Let us chase away the night's shadows with light.

[Aubri closes his eyes, bringing to mind the clearest picture of White Gryphon that he can. Then, he sets to describing her.]

She overlooks the sea and I'll never tire of seeing the sun dance on the waves. The cliffs are white and our homes are built into them. It was the humans who decided that the walkways should take the shape of a gryphon rising into flight, but the gryphons certainly did not argue it.

[ Maglor closes his eyes to listen and hums appreciatively ]

Do they fly together, your people? In freedom, in joy?

We rarely fly alone. We dance in the sky, Maglor, and one should not dance alone.

[ A soft wistful sigh ]

I would love to watch, one day Master Aubri. Perhaps I will see you and the Lady Zhaneel dance so one day.

[Aubri blinks.

Blinks again.

Chokes on the air he's trying to breathe.

Somehow, after a moment, he manages to speak.]

Perhaps you will.

[Maglor certainly didn't mean it that way.

Right?

Of course not. Right. Skan would kill him. Then bring him back and kill him again.]

Did I say something wrong? [ He blinks in confusion ] Forgive me, I did not mean to cause offence, if I did.

[Aubri shakes his head quickly.] No offence. My apologies. It was the way it was phrased.

Ahhh, forgive me. [ Maglor ducks his head apologetically ] I am sorry. I will try to remember not to use that phrasing!

She is gone. {Ranging has its uses and Ehtyarion is kind enough to bear him. Clearly the bond he is forging with Maglor is growing if Aragorn can find him in his time of need.

He is cloaked in green, easily mistaken for a shadow in the forest, and his expression is hidden.} Arwen Undómiel returns to lands that are destined to be renewed. There she will experience pain and joy...

Lord Elrond will dry her tears and show her a brighter future.

.............Oh Aragorn.

[ Another tie snapped, another loss, but Aragorn means more than his own pain, and Maglor lifts his head from where he rests and takes the steps needed to pull the Ranger into his arms ]

I am sorry.

{He shakes beyond his control, ice filling his veins where once their had been warmth and security. The pendant she had given him is a weight on his chest - a reminder that his love is in another world.

But that's okay. That's better.

Then why does his heart scream?}

May I stay?

Hush hush. Yes, of course you can.

[ He tugs him down to sit, carding a hand through his hair and crooning comfort instinctively ]

{He doesn't sit so much as collapse in on himself. There are no tears - he is too numb, too shocked for them to fall. But he doesn't push Maglor away. He sought him out for a reason - he knows her disappearance will hurt him too and that's...

Something they share.}

Once I heal... I will make myself stronger. The Monarchy will know where I stand.

[ Maglor will keep it up, until Aragorn tells him to stop or pushes him away ]

Have a care if you do. [ he murmurs softly ] He may well have started from the same sort of ground as you, but his search for power drove Reynard mad, in the end. I do not wish that fate for you. I would rather you sought a way to return... although without your shard...

[ Gently ] She left hers behind, did she not?

{Slowly, he sits up and stretches out his legs. Digging into a pocket, he pulls out the Shard. Her Shard. He hasn't given a thought about what to do with it.}

I cannot return before I give them an answer for the pain they have caused.

{And not just his pain, either.}

Do not let revenge drive you. [ He warns quietly ] You told me the same, I return you now that advice. It has never ended well.

[ He looks sadly at the shard ] Another from our family gone. I... am working with the Lady Rin to use the shards left by our family into more than just a memorial. I am not my father or Curufin or I would have done it myself, but I hope to turn them into palantir, or something very like. Elrond's will be the master stone. I want you to have it, Aragorn. I trust no one else more. Will you let me add Arwen's to that as well?

{Anger is a dangerous emotion and Aragorn doesn't rage quietly. He is fed up with being used and helpless. Surely there is a way - apart from madness and seeking ultimate power - to quell the atrocities of the Monarchy?

This is his new path and his heart is harder for it.}

I cannot sit idly. Once a path opens, I must take it. {However...} They will not see me dying on their lands again.

{The Shard is...both hateful and precious. He holds onto it tightly for a moment, eyes closed, before he offers it to Maglor. As he does so, the Elfstone slips free from his shirt, glowing with a fainter light.}

We will share it, Grandfather.

Only be careful that it does not consume you. I have... seen enough of that.

[ He accepts the shard gravely ] I will take it to Lady Rin and see that this too, is more than just a memory. [ He promises and shakes his head ]

I... mother forebodes that our time together is short. She has always been right before, and this world... seems intent of removing the Eldar from it, as swiftly as might be. Perhaps we proved too troublesome, in the end. The Master Stone, it is right that it goes to you. I think it will take Nerdanel or me, next.

I have not lost my reason. {He immediately holds onto the Elfstone once he has given him the Shard.} I should like to speak to Lady Rin. She possesses much that is precious.

{Little does he know that she possesses his Shard too.}

No. We mustn't envision that day or they have conquered us.

See to it that you do not... Grandson.

I do not know where she is, at present, but I can speak to Lord El Melloi II, he will know.

[ He brushes a fond hand through Aragorn's hair ]

Never has my mother's foresight failed. I have been here since the beginning of this... "collection" began, and I have seen our numbers swell, and then with terrifying swiftness fade. There remain from the fair lands of Middle earth only you and I, my mother, the Lord Gimli, the Lord Faramir, and the Lord Fili. There are none of the Eldar saving mother and I now, where once we were a great company. I cannot but wonder if this process by which folk are taken and then returned is more than simple chance. I am... glad for this one thing, if it is me that goes. That I had a chance to know you.

{A rush of warmth mingles with the ice, melting some of it and he breathes out shakily. When ice melts, water is able to flow freely. His tears are no different and they fall silently while he rests his elbows on his knees, bowing forward.}

I did not imagine in my wildest dreams that I would encounter you. Every story barely touches on the Elf you are and I mean to correct that. {Family is like a brilliant flame to him - too soon extinguished but too bright for him to avoid.} All I ask is that you do not rush for...death... If your light Fades, take what light I have left. I share it freely.

For years, I have dwelt detached from others. I was cursed by some and admired by others, but I never knew my place. Now I see that, even in the midst of loss, if there is but one friend, there is my place.

{Incredibly poignant and beautiful video.}

I was always meant to be forgotten. [ He says quietly ] To be nothing more than a warning to those who came after. But... I am a selfish creature, and I am glad for this chance, as well.

[ Fondly, he runs his hands through Aragorn's hair ]

Such a great heart. You really do remind me of Elros. If I Fade, it is too late to stop it now, Aragorn. I have lost far too much, too swiftly. I will stay for as long as I can, but if mother is right... I cannot survive her loss. I do not know if she would survive mine. She might, I suppose - she has done before. But I do not know. If in the end it is Men and Dwarves alone who will stand... well. That seems fitting, as well. Do not grow bitter, grandson. Elrond named you well. Do not lose that - it was what killed Maedhros in the end, the loss of the last of his estel.

Not by me. {Not by Elrond or Arwen or anyone else of that line.} I can see why the twins grew so well and became so strong. Despite what you did to their kin, you became a steady heartbeat in their lives.

{He wipes at his tears and glances at Maglor, feeling far younger than his eight decades.}

I have seen you suffer and it is difficult for me to... {He is a Healer. A Renewer.} I feel I have failed you.

No. Never. [ Fierce and firm ]

You have never failed me Elrondion. There are some hurts that you cannot heal. As a healer you know this. I am one of them, no more, and no less.

I will not believe that. {His voice is rough, dropping a notch so it sounds like a growl.} Call me a fool but I cannot stop searching for a better future for you.

Is he a fool who trusts yet in Hope? [ Maglor murmurs softly, the inflection suggesting he is quoting from someone or somewhere ]

There is no future for me, Aragorn. There can be none. Only the memory of the Eldar days. Let them pass. Look to the future.

...no. {His lips twitch, but the amusement dies as quickly as it comes to life.} You are welcome to Gondor at any time. I will open the palace to you.

If I survive long enough to see your kingdom, perhaps I will visit. [ He smiles a little ]

Survive to see it and your great-grandchildren. My son shall be named Eldarion.

No promises. [ Maglor warns ]

I do not know if... I will survive that long without Maedhros. But I will try.

There could be daughters too. {Lovely little girls that take after Arwen and dazzle everyone they meet.} Would Maedhros enjoy the chance to see them? Would he wish for you to see them?

I hope there are for you. You and Arwen deserve every happiness.

[ He shakes his head slowly ]

Maedhros is dead. I... before I was brought here... I watched him fall. His last ... the last thing he told me was... was not to follow. I... I could not... I could not catch him.

I would think far less of him if he ordered you to follow. {He holds Maglor's hand between his own, seeking the contact subconsciously.} He was beyond your reach. Do not blame yourself for his decision.

[ He does not fight, turning to grip fondly in return ]

Maybe. But I will always wonder... if I did something so terrible that he would not stay, and would not let me follow.

Your actions were mirrors of his, were they not? What right would he have to blame you so harshly?

{He shakes his head thoughtfully.}

No, he reached the barrier of his sanity. It was the same for Isildur when he took the Ring for his own. Deaths come in many forms.

[ Maglor shrugs, eyes far away ]

Not always. And... I still wonder if he blamed me for Thangorodrim.

An elder brother would not want to risk his younger brother even if it means he will suffer endlessly.

{He touches Maglor's cheek, trying to draw him back.}

[ Maglor blinks back at Aragorn and sighd quietly ]

I wish I could believe that he forgives me.

Family cannot help but forgive. {It's part of the package, especially when family is so close.} It has been long enough even if he felt anger towards you.

Maybe.

[ Is all he says, but Aragorn can maybe hear the words he does not say: 'Then why did he leave me behind?' ]

It was his weakness - his breaking point - and it had nothing to do with you.

{No one blames Elrond for failing to hold back Isildur; no one blames Maglor for failing to hold back Maedhros. Choices are made and consequences inevitably follow, but those left behind do not deserve guilt.}

[ Maglor only shakes his head ]

I was supposed to look after them. Be the moderating influence. I could not even change his mind.

And I am supposed to be a Healer and a Renewer. {What healing is he doing? How is he renewing anything?} Our talents cannot solve every riddle or save every soul.

You might yet be, here.

[ Maglor points out quietly ]

But they are all lost to me now.

You have not lost your talent. {Why else does he feel calm in his presence?}

Have I not? I think you think on me too kindly, Elrondion.

IC Inbox [Eachdraidh]

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[Video] and now the fact that Mags is a creeper comes in useful

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... considering what happens in the current event...

Yeeaaah lol

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Some ungodly hour before the crack of dawn on the 2nd of June

\o/

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Andddd a while later :D

Re: Andddd a while later :D

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morning of june 2nd

Sometime late in the evening

ALL ABOARD THE GUILT TRAIN

CHOO CHOO

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