eachdraidh | [Video]

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[Vanyel's absence was brief and likely unnoticed, but he has returned...changed. His once black hair is now mostly white and his eyes are a much paler grey. He is sitting on the floor in his room with his back to the wall. Every inch of him says "don't touch me", yet something prompts him to open his Locket and use it.]

Why did you bring me back? What use am I...here? Without Yfandes? Without Stefen?

[His pillars have been ripped away and they expect him to stand; to fight?!]

I could kill whomever you wish. [There is something distant in his eyes. His heart can't handle the guilt of his actions.] I could drop them into the bowels of the Drabworld and leave them to suffocate.

Is that what you want of me? [He's beyond tears and out of answers.]

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I love my mother and I...forgive my father. We have come a long way since I was a teenager and that is saying something. [At least Withen tries.] I have a wonderful Aunt who I love with all my heart and friends.

[Well, he did.] Many of them perished at the hands of a Mage I am hunting.

[Yes, hunting. Mercy is not apart of this tracking.]

Hm. [He chuckles, holding his ribs.] I didn't know that Elves and Dwarves could behave...childishly.

[It's a little refreshing.] I'm sure everyone has tangible reasons for their anger, but it's...silly when you look at it from afar.

[Vanyel looks away, his cheeks flushed.] I've asked enough of you. Don't go out of your way.

I am glad. [ Maglor says softly ] Kinstrife is a grievous thing indeed, and I am glad that at least bridges may attempt to be mended.

Then I wish you every fortune in your hunt.

[ A soft laugh in return ] Well. I think it is more that we rub each other wrong, I suppose.

[ He sobers ] Very tangible, if the tales I have heard are true. [ He shakes his head ] We were good allies... Maedhros still mourns Azhagal. But once again the curse of father's Silmarils broke the bonds of trust and led only to bloodshed. It was not the only reason, of course but... it was the beginning of the end of the old friendships, I think. But the ties are mending now, slowly, and I am glad.

Tch [ He scolds, reaching across to tug fondly on a lock of hair ] I offer what I wish to, Vanyel. Tis no hardship for me. You are as deserving of my care... of anyone's care as any.

There are matters that some cannot digest no matter how much time passes. His effort matters the most to me and I accept that as apology for...our earlier years.

[He bows his head in assent, eating more of the lembas.]

It is the least I can do for them.

[It's a nice feeling to have a full stomach. With a small sigh, he leans back and focuses on Maglor's tale.]

Who or what is Azhagal, if you do not mind me asking? [The sheer expanse of what the Elf has experienced is remarkable.] Was he a Dwarf?

[His eyes widen at the tug and he wrinkles his nose childishly.] Would you rather I demand things of you like the spoiled peacock I used to be?

He was, yes. Azaghâl was the dwarven lord of Belegost in the Blue Mountains, when my brothers and I held the Siege of Angband with our kin. He was strong and stubborn and had little patience for fancy words and politicking, which is probably why he and my brother got along so well. He perished in the Nírnaeth Arnoediad - the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, when Mogoth unleashed Glaurung, Father of Dragons. Glaurung's flame was so hot that... nothing could stand against him. [ Maglor's voice has gone tight with remembered pain, sing-song and emotionless, his eyes blank and unseeing as he walks again the blood-soaked fields ] But the dwarves of Belegost were strong and hardy folk, and they wore iron masks to protect their faces. They surrounded Glaurung and Azaghal wounded him and drove him from the field... but he was crushed beneath his claws and died.

[ Blinking back he smiles fondly at Vanyel ] I cannot believe that of you, Vanyel. And in honesty, I have dealt with such behaviour in my younger cousins and am rather used to it.

I can appreciate someone such as him. [Politics have never been his favorite venue.] Maglor?

[He is up in a flash, raising his hands to rest them, light as a feather, on Maglor's cheeks.]

You are not there. Lord Azaghâl would not want for you to suffer so from memories. [The lembas gives him the strength to offer the Elf a small bit of healing - and a stronger smile.] As you said, he was strong, stubborn and had little patience for fancy Elvish depression.

[He means the words as amusing, but he is glad for the change in conversation.]

It is a shame you did not meet me sooner. I was deplorable and far too ready to push everyone away.

You should not expend yourself so. [ He murmurs softly, memory clearing from his eyes as he leans a little into Vanyel's hands ]

Yes. You are right, of course. You would think, after so many years, that I would know better. But the Nirnaeth was... a bad time, for all of us. Maedhros, in particular. [ And Maglor has never truly grieved it - he had to be strong for his brother, after all ]

[ a soft amused huff ]

Hm. Perhaps so! But I have dealt with spoilt young lordlings before.

I will expend myself however I wish. [The peacock of his youth may not be completely gone after all.] Your memories will haunt you if you let them. That is the price of seeing war...and death.

[He smiles sadly, shaking his head.] It was hard on you too. Your attention to your brothers is admirable, but you matter too.

[Tossing his head arrogantly, he lowers his hands and gives Maglor an imperious look.]

I was the pet of many at court. My teenage self could try your patience, I'm sure.

Is it not right that I let them do so? [ Maglor says softly ] I ... someone needs to remember my victims.

[ He shrugs a little ] The Nirnaeth nearly destroyed Maedhros. Far more than... even Thangorodrim did, and none of us speak of what happened there. He needed... all of us to be strong for him.

[ Maglor smiles at Vanyel's posturing, eyes brightening, and reaches to flick his cheek ]

As long as you did not demand that only gold ribbons would do, and why can't they be Finno's and I want my brother to do my hair, why can't Finno do it!

[ His voice mimics the young tones of a frustrated ellith perfectly... and if Vanyel has heard Galadriel speak, even in those young tones is the echo of her adult voice ]

Is that why you live? To be plagued by your memories and to remember the names and faces of those you killed? [What a sad existence. Vanyel stares at Maglor hard.] What of the present? There is much to cherish.

[His expression falls and he closes his eyes.] I do not know the extent of Maedhros's pain, but I can see the extent of yours. Has no one ever comforted you?

[The impression causes his haughty air to falter and he frowns, puzzling.]

Why does that sound somewhat familiar? ...was that the Lady Galadriel? [He's stunned.]

What else is there left for me? [ He shrugs, old and tired ] To walk amongst the Eldar, as this world has so ably proven, is to bring my Doom back into play. So. I will not let them be forgotten - not my victims, and not my brothers. But there is nothing else left for me.

[ I am alone hangs in the air between them, although Maglor does not say it. For he has always been the sane one, the kind one, the gentle one - the one the others looked to for comfort, and never the one who needed comforting in turn, although Maedhros did his best ]

[ He quirks a smile at that ]

It was, yes. When she was little Princess Nerwen, youngest and fiestiest of the Noldoran's grandchildren.

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[Video]

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action /realisation I've been spelling it wrong this whole time orz

action /complicated tolkien words

action /story of our lives....

action /hey he had fun. We can say that much. XD

action /truth!

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