eachdraidh | Voice, Open

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Voice, Open

[ Grief, as deep as the sea, as endless as the sky. Pain, like sheeting ice, in the voice that speaks... and for those with ears to hear, a tiny, quiet envy and relief. ]

For those who knew them, the list of those freed from this world now includes the Lady Galadriel and her husband, the Lord Celeborn, their daughter, the Lady Celebrian, the Lady Idril, and Maedhros my brother. Also, the Lady Sif, who counted us as family in lieu of those left in her own world.

Their things are with me, but they left no letters behind.

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{This is a grief that cuts deep - for him too - yet his heart seeks to comfort the Elves most of all.}

For such a large gathering to leave, they must have done so together. {He is pale, pressing his lips together.} I grieve that your burdens have been added to, mellon.

I hope... they all reach safety. Arwen... needs you.

I am riding to her as we speak. {Ehtyarion is tireless, sensing the need to move faster than usual.} My concern lies with you as well. Are you alone?

[ He shakes his head ] I do not... matter. Get to Arwen.

You matter to me; to us. Would you make her shed more tears in your absence?

I ... I will not... I will try not to Fade. Amil... I cannot... do that to Amil. But Arwen needs you now, I... will cope.

You cannot do that to those who love you. {His mother is not alone in that category.} Tell me again that you do not need the company of a stubborn Ranger? She will find you if I do not and then we shall be three instead of two.

[ He manages a shaky smile ]

I ... I have said that I will... try not to. So I will try. I need you far less than Arwen does, right now.

Go to your mother. I will come to you after I see Arwen. {Not a request. His manners are rough when it comes to seeing those he cares about hurt.}

No!

[ Urgent and worried ]

Do not come here! Not with war knocking at our doorstep and far too many willing to kill for the slightest provocation. If you... if you must see me, I will go to the Station. But do not come here, Elrondion!

{Is he that stubborn? Yes.}

Let them try. {He has a battle savvy Unicorn, a sword, daggers and experience.} It would do you good to distance yourself from their rooms.

No, please!

I cannot... I will not let you risk death for me. You must have heard the words bandied about. To even cross the borders now risks everything. I will come to the Station, I will come to the Greenwood. Do not come here!

The risk is worthwhile for me. {Which speaks for itself.} Meet me in the Greenwood. I shall not keep you waiting long.

Elrond would be so angry with me if I let you get hurt [ he says softly ]

Alright, alright. I will come to the Greenwood. Do you remember the old camp?

[ Maglor crosses borders by moonlight, and the Elvenking's guards know better than to shoot him ]

Lord Elrond has long since accepted my nature. He would think ill of me to leave you to grieve alone.

{Elrond never turned away from grief or tears. He accepted them and did what he could to soothe them.}

I remember it. {Ehtyarion looks like moonlight given physical form as he races to the camp.}

He would be angrier if I let his fosterling get injured on my behalf!

After moonrise then. I will come.

{After ensuring Arwen is safe and cementing that she can rely on him in all matters, Aragorn rides for the Greenwood. He urges Ehtyarion forth with soft Elvish, his pale eyes scanning the trees for sign of movement. Finally, the Unicorn slows to a trot and positions himself beside one tree.}

Man cerig? {"What are you doing?" But as soon as he says the words, he spies Maglor. The Elf all but blends in with their surroundings with his dark hair, however there is something...else. Something Aragorn has seen before.}

Amarth faeg! {"Evil fate!" Maglor is beginning to Fade. He dismounts and approaches the Elf, expression pained.} The tethers connecting you to this world have worn thin, but they will hold.

[ Maglor opens his eyes from where he was sitting beneath the trees, drawing what strength he can from wood and bough (he would do better by the sea, but he does not dare stir his Sea Longing as well) and manages a quiet smile ]

They are, yes. It is alright, Aragorn. It is no worse than it was before, and I will fight it still. But I fear all of Maedhros' hard work is undone.

{Aragorn leans down and pulls out his water skin. Inside is a herbal infusion meant to give the drinker strength.}

Then we must fill the gap he left behind to the best of our abilities. {Ehtyarion stares at Maglor, eyes bright. He nudges Aragorn to the side and lays down, quite decided, by the Elf.}

Forgive me for being in your way! {His words are laced with amusement. The Unicorn looks entirely unabashed.}

Do not worry for me. I will manage. I cannot leave amil alone.

[ Maglor smiles a little and starts when Ehtyarion settles beside him ]

Hello fair one. [ He blinks at the unicorn in surprise ]

I would rather you not leave anyone alone. {He scratches behind the Unicorn's ears, affectionate.} He is fierce in battle, but empathetic when he senses grief.

{Sitting down across from Maglor, he drops his gaze to his hands.}

Your mother would mourn you undoubtedly, but so would I.

Edited 2015-02-04 02:44 (UTC)

Muscovy will be alright. [ he says softly, and shyly reaches to stroke the Unicorn as well ] He is stronger than he knows. But will you and Arwen care for him, if things go ill? And you have Arwen, eh?

I worry for amil, more. She puts so much of herself into Morla's commission. I fear she will lose herself to it entire.

[ If Nerdanel goes, Maglor knows, he will follow, and if he goes, he strongly suspects his mother will do the same ]

{Ehtyarion turns his head and gently nuzzles Maglor's shoulder, cautious with his horn.}

He will not be left alone, I promise you. {He presses his lips together, shaking his head.} My heart has room for many friends. As does Arwen's. She has encouraged me to support you because she loves you.

{His brow furrows.} Does she think highly of Morla?

Good. He does well, but he needs... people to teach him to care, I think. You and Arwen... are both very much Elrond's children.

[ He smiles at the Unicorn's concern and runs fingers down to scratch at his withers ]

Amil? No. She neither likes, nor trusts her. But... Morla asked her as an artist, and Feanor was not the only one of my parents who was proud of their work.

His heart is young and it has room to grow. A child should have been given better circumstances. {He will go and pick him up if need be and carry him to safety.} Ah, be cautious, you are spoiling him.

{Ehtyarion that is. The Unicorn closes his eyes contentedly.}

Pride runs strong in your family. Perhaps that is the curse.

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