Video | Both Courts

[bythewaves]

[ When the video starts it is to a burst of laughter and calls for 'More!' - this is a tavern, somewhere in Cothromach, perhaps, considering the number of dwarves visible.

There is a minstrel seated by the fire, silver harp in his lap, and he swigs back a drink that has obviously just been passed to him in reward for his last song to roars of approval. The silver eight-rayed-star on his cloak may be familiar, although his features are curiously a little blurred, as if hard to hold on to in the flickering light. But his voice now - his voice is probably very familiar to some. ]

Well now good sirs, another is it? And what would you have of me? Joy or sorrow, war or peace?

Sing us something to get us laughing, boyo!

[ He bows in thought and then smiles ]

Ah, then, this one perhaps might suit, considering recent events eh?

[ And he launches into a rolling rollicking tune with a very familiar subject ]

Oh the world will talk of a ruddy fox
Across all time and space
And not because / o’ his fearsome claws
Or punch-attracting face

The monarchs try / to win their war
and finally take the day
But that damn fox / with all his plots
keeps trying to get his way

As popular as a mangy rat
He’s sure he’s so much better than that
Reynard, that phony king in Eachdraaaidh
A pox on that / phony king in Eachdraaaidh

Grabbin’ at a throne / to call his own
Pretendin’ he’s the king
[stage whispered:](We’d rather shove him / in a box)
(and out a fairy ring)

He throws an / angry tantrum
if he cannot have his way
Moans o’er his shard / ‘cause life’s so hard
then allies does betray

He’d like to think that he’s the first
but we all know he’s just the worst
A pox on that / phony king in Eachdraaaidh


He kidnaps all / our dearest friends
And robs us from our beds
but mark, we’ll yet / collect that debt
and crush that fucker dead

We’ll party hard / and party long
when that damned fox is gone
but until then / through mount and glen
we’ll sing this catchy song

So sing it loud and sing it long
Let nobody forget this song!

The scurvy’d, fleabit phony king in Eachdraidh

The snivellin’ grovellin’ / measly weasely
blabberin’ jabberin’; /gibbering jabberin’
blunderin’ plottin’ / wheelin’ dealin’

Reynard! That phony king in Eachdraaaidh


[ ooc: with thanks to Waver-mun & Kaldur-mun, who wrote this. And yes, Mags is going tavern to tavern and singing this ]

Comments

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[bythewaves]

That is a pity - but music, as I said, will be heard, one way or another. If you love it lady, I think you will find that even lapsing in your lessons will only make the skill sleep for a while, and not truly be lost.

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[steeledskin]

I think the girl who played the high harp is gone. [ ... ] I haven't the time any longer.

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[bythewaves]

[ Gently ]

I have found there is always time, if you truly wish it. [ A considering pause ] Do you wish to take it up again? I mind not the teaching.

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[steeledskin]

I do not -- [ know. she does not suffer strangers well. the lockets are simple enough, but to spend time with strangers? face to face? ah! she wonders if he would mind this layer of distance and metal between them if he dared help. ] Mayhaps. It would be nice to play again.

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[bythewaves]

Then whenever you wish it, lady - to hear, or to play, you need only ask for me - Maglor of the House of Feanor is my name.

[ a wry smile ] I have many songs better suited for noble ladies in grand halls, as well as those for places such as these.

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[steeledskin]

And mine is Sansa Stark -- Lady Keeper of the Cothromach.

[ she gives her name now as a measured test. to see if she's right -- if he does indeed keep company in one of her city's taverns. and to tell him, perhaps, that there is a grand hall not far that might make use of him if he would allow it. ] How sweet and good it is to make your acquaintance, Lord Maglor.

[ after all! he claims to be of a house. and therefore, she decides, noble. ]

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[bythewaves]

Ah! [ A bright smile of recognition ]

So you are the Lady Keeper! Well met Lady Stark. They speak of you fondly here - you are well regarded. [ Which means he thinks of her kindly as well - dwarves, he finds, are quite straightforward in their likes and dislikes ]

I do not know if it be sweet or good, but tis a gladsome meeting in any case.

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[steeledskin]

So! You are in the city. [ a smile at last! though only a very small one, and perhaps felt because she's glad someone speaks well of her. ] Welcome to the Cothromach, my lord.

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[bythewaves]

In Cothromach? Aye, at present! [ He bows to her slightly over the lockets ]

No lord I, there is no need for such titles with me. But if I draw the attention of the Lady Keeper herself, I must needs ask if she has a request from this humble bard?

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[steeledskin]

[ it had been the song that drew her attention, certainly! and the talk of reynard. but now -- hmm. she hums a moment while considering some new thought. ]

I have no high harp -- [ she confesses. ] But I have a desire to purchase one. Only I wouldn't know how to tell the good from the bad. I remain a student still and could not trust myself to discern which was worth my coin. Will you help me?

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[bythewaves]

For such a simple task as that, my Lady Keeper has all my attention.

[ Maglor smiles at her, more real than the bright gaiety of the travelling minstrel ]

Did you wish for one of wood or metal? And... forgive the presumption, but how tall are you, lady?

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[steeledskin]

-- Wood. No! Metal. [ a girlish (almost innocent) pause. ] I've only ever had one made of wood. What makes the difference?

[ and...and perhaps she not-too-smoothly avoids the question upon her height. it's a little personal to ask for any sort of measurements over the lockets. she tries to pretend like it was never asked. ]

video /makes things up whoo

[bythewaves]

The sound of it, Lady - some prefer metal, others wood - I have a preference for wood, myself, normally, although this one is silver-gilt. [ He brushes his hands across the strings fondly ] But my father was a craftsman of unparalled skill, and I do not know how he made this one to sound as sweetly as wood might.

But steel and silver may last longer, but the sound, I find, is usually harsher, also - sharp, almost, where wood is mellow and grows only richer with age. Also the best bards of the Sindar and Silvan would tell you that the harp will sing to you while it is still a tree, that they know that it is a gift to them, and so the music will echo still from the tree from which it was made.

[ he hears the avoidance but that is fair enough ]

Do you know where to look, Lady Keeper? [ since you know. He kinda needs to know what size will suit you ]

yesss.

[steeledskin]

I can believe it: trees, singing. [ would be blasphemous to hope for a harp of weirwood? ah! a dream, alone. the scant bits of white-barked would to be found in these lands are not the precious weirwoods of her home. not aside from the holy trees asked for form the court of seelie. ] Wood. It must be wood.

And I know there are good craftsmen here in the Cothromach. Mayhaps we might meet at one of their stalls in the market. [ he can then see her considerable height (for her age) for himself. ]

[bythewaves]

The Noldor like myself had no skill for speaking to wood or tree, but I could ask the Woodland Prince, if you liked? [ Maglor offers ] A gift that the tree gave freely would have a virtue in the wood beyond anything that a harp maker could set in it, no matter how skilled.

But otherwise yes, that would suit Lady. Whatever you buy, the harp must sing to you - and then it might be the simplest of things, but if you hear its song, then it will always sing for you.

[steeledskin]

Your faith in these matters is...charming. [ her tongue tastes the absence of a title; it's difficult. ] I will not press you for your time today. You seem...busy enough. But perhaps tomorrow? In the morning?

[bythewaves]

Nay, say not faith but rather the skill of lessons long learnt! [ He smiles and bows in acknowlegement ]

Whenever it suits, Lady Stark. I am at your disposal!

[steeledskin]

It is...difficult to know the hour by the sun when we live below the ground in the Cothromach. But they mark the passage of time well enough, and I have a wide set of steps that enter upon my keep. Meet me there perhaps two hours after the markets open, and we will walk there together.

[ such command and boldness is new to her! but she must practise it -- so say her council. so she practises it when a bard, because why not? ]

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor nods and bows in acknowledgement ]

With good will, lady. Ah... and you may see a little one around - young Muscovy often follows me. I do not know if he will approach you, he is often leery of strangers, but he will do you no harm.

[ Because Muscovy's habit of creeping on people he meets is occasionally a little bit unnerving ]

[steeledskin]

[ little one--? ]

A child, good bard?

[bythewaves]

In seeming. [ Maglor nods ] Although I suspect he is far older than he looks. He is not mortal, but something else entire. Young, but not a child, not truly.

[steeledskin]

And you give your word that he is not dangerous?

[ it matters little, of course. she will be coming with guards in tow all the same. after all, who can say whether the singer is safe? ]

[bythewaves]

[ A wry smile and he shakes his head at her ]

Ah now Lady, that promise I cannot make - we are all of us dangerous, in our own ways - we would not be pawns in this war if we were not! But he means you no harm, nor yours, unless you threaten him or his, first - that much is true. Muscovy means well, but he is a strange one and does not always understand that his behaviour is odd. If you mind him not, likely he will watch for a while and then go off on his own affairs. If you speak to him, he will be shy but courteous.

[steeledskin]

[ courteous. she can cope with courteous. sansa wrings her hands together and already finds herself selecting faces for a small guard. it could not be an insult, she's certain, for a young woman to bring escorts to an appointment of any sort. she wishes she could ask jon or maybe ser gendry along, but doubtless they are busy with their own affairs. guards from the city must suffice. ]

Then I see no issue with his attendance.

[bythewaves]

[ The smile she gets back is kind and understanding ]

I will warn him to be polite - you may not even see him! He tends to be fairly shy amongst strangers, in any case.