eachdraidh | Voice, Open

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[ 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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[It would probably be polite to say 'at least they're still here', but he really wanted to say 'don't get used to them sticking around'. He'd known Maglor long enough, and respected him, to not resort to pity or cruelty.]

I know some of those names. Will you stay with them?

[As in: are you going to do more than sit there and look sad?]

Mother needs me. [ He breathes in ] Muscovy... needs me. Aragorn will be angry if I Fade, and Arwen ... has had too many hurts already. I... will do my best, Javik.

Staying for the sake of their needs will do you no good.

[That was where he and Shepard had differed: she fought for her friends, but his were dead. You couldn't build a life on something so transient.]

I know. But ... it is the only thing that holds me, Javik. Maybe I will be strong enough one day to survive without but... not for a while, I think.

I believe there is time enough, here. [Assuming no one got killed in battle first, but he thought that went without saying. Which reminded him...] They are prepared for the coming war, correct?

Maybe. I cannot see it, Javik. And yes, so far as any can ever be.

I am curious if you intend to participate.

[Given the circumstances, he was inclined to guess no. He wasn't certain how he felt about that.]

[ A curl of his old fire, a snarl in his voice ]

Why would I waste myself on a fight for those I despise? They take and take and take from me, and offer nothing but careless boons, as if to win me that way. Let others dance to the Rulers tune. I will not go.

[Poor topic or not, that spark was nice to see.]

I do not care for them, or fight for their ideals, but the coming battle will ruin whatever is in its path. Regardless of our affiliation, a loss will mark us as targets.

[He might not spend a lot of time at Caer Scima, knowing any place like that was only temporary. Losing it completely, though, meant turning the lot of them out into the world, where it was becoming increasingly hazardous to be a Shardbearer. He wasn't keen on being a hunted species again.]

At the moment, I am rather disinclined to care. It is not the first time the sons of Feanor have wandered homeless.

[He had expected the elf to care more, at least about the welfare of the friends and remaining family he had here. A heartless, fading apathy was one thing, but this was a side of him he had not really seen.]

So long as you do not chose to simply lie down and die.

[ Maglor is good at locking things away behind rage and bitterness and hate. It has been a long time, but he is drawing on those reserves to keep himself going again - he will likely get worse. Even with his heart ]

I promised I would not. Not yet, anyway. There may come a point where I simply cannot keep going but... I hold. For now.

Then that is enough. I will look for you afterwards, assuming we both survive this battle.

I will do my best to still be here, my friend.

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