eachdraidh | Video | Both Courts

[ 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 ]

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Thank you.

I see Sketto has been recording again. It is my honor, sir. Any time.

Thank you, for this. [ He hasn't spoken with Maglor for ages, but to hear the fruit of his and Waver's frustrations so borne out... There is a smile in his voice. ]

[ a soft chuckle ]

My Sketto seems intent on sharing it. No - it was an honor and a privileged. Thank you

[ she thinks she sees her city. but she cannot be certain -- it could be any other place frequented by dwarves. but her stomach leaps to a guess, and she nurtures that guess a little longer.

even so! if it is the cothromach, part of her shrinks to hear so brazen a song sung what might be mere half-miles from where reynard left holes in corpses in an local inn.

the young lady keeper responds in a soft and distant tone: ] A brave tune!

[ The answer is incongruously quiet amidst the hooting cheers and laughter of a full and happy tavern ]

A timely one, perhaps. I apologise if it startled you - I did not mean for it to be so widely shown, but it seems that others had different ideas.

[ it's possible that she flinches a little under all the noise. taverns have never been a comfort to her -- and though she has indeed stayed in one of cothromach's finest (upon her first trip through the city, before she inherited its seat) she still finds herself troubled by their sounds. ]

No. No. Only -- I wonder if... [ she shakes her head. ] Are you a bard?

[ A quick smile and he tips his head curiously ]

What do you wonder, lady? But aye, I am.

[ once upon a time, sansa stark would beg her lord father not to let the singers leave winterfell. in her youthful exuberance, she'd wanted to keep them all under her roof and listen to them sing forever. but since then, the singers' trade has grown tarnished. she thinks on the broken sad songs of one musician in particular.

hmm. ]

I've heard some singers tempt fate with the songs they sing. I wonder, then, if you must be as brave as your song.

[ to mock the fox so! ]

That much is sometimes true! Not everyone appreciates a good tune, after all, and what one man considers art another might consider rubbish.

[ But there is something sharp in his smile despite the lightness of his words, a hidden blade - Reynard made him very, very angry by taking Alice ]

[ he shrugs ]

Brave? I would not say so. But music has a way of being heard.

[ and indeed it had been a little...raucous for her tastes. but that doesn't mean she couldn't appreciate decent musicality when she hears it. sansa is herself fond of singing, though she indulges in it less and less as the city's work eats up her time. ]

And your harp! Beg pardon, but it's a pretty one. And sweetly strung. [ it's been over a year since she last played the high harp; she misses it so. ] I've decided: you are both brave and talented. Certainly.

[ She earns a true smile from him, a flash of something bright ]

I thank you for the compliment, lady. The harp twas a gift from my father, long ago, and I prize it dearly. Do you play as well?

I do! [ no -- that's not right. she frowns. ] I did. I confess I've lapsed in my lessons.

Edited 2014-12-01 04:32 (UTC)

It is better than I could have imagined it being. Spread it as far and wide as you will, such that no corner of this world will want for the hearing of it. [ People make mistakes when they are angry and pissed, right? Also, Maglor's audience seems to like it. ]

I intend to [ There is something like teeth in the chuckle ]

And as requested, I will keep its author from the spotlight.

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.

I see you finally started singing stuff that actually sounded entertaining. [ Han drawls, but it's clear he's delighted by the tune. He'll have to remember it to alter when he wants to irritate some "friends" of his ]

And give Sketto my love, won't you? My favorite fairy-doll.

[ Amused ] I was wondering if you would deign to comment - I am glad this suits you better - although I confess to not being the author - tis something I picked up. But tis a lovely tune, is it not? I think I will keep it in my regular repertoire - certainly it has been well recieved here tonight.

[ Behind Maglor the tavern is a loud, cheerful wash of noise, but Han will hear the chiming as Sketto pops into view and blows him a kiss ]

And as you can see, she is all to happy to accept your love herself - twas her who decided this ought to be broadcast.

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

[ 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.

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.

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.

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. ]

Edited 2014-12-01 13:48 (UTC)

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.

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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