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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[ An amused quirk ] He was very worried about me. He has been approaching everyone who spoke to me when... I broke the news. You may hear from him soon. If not, you may spot him watching you from behind a tree - he can be quite shy around those he does not know. Mistrusting, I suspect.

Do not. [ A flash of his old fire ] Amil does as she thinks is best, and I support her. Do not think that because she pours herself into this that she neglects me.

I am not the easiest for a child to approach. {His Ranger habits make him look gruff even when he's cleaned up.} Should he avoid me, I will send him a message.

{He sighs and wonders where the dysfunction of the Fëanorians ends. Maglor, at least, seems the most reasonable at times, but then he speaks as a desperate child. Aragorn is caught between wanting to comfort him and wanting to say something harsh.

But harsh words only deepen the wounds, he knows. This is not an Elf who has been spoiled or granted an easy life.}

Maglor, I have lost my mother. I do not expect to see her again until I pass from this life. {As if that isn't hard enough...} I watched her grieve for many years after the death of my father. I could not bear to see her so consumed. There were many years, I did not even lay eyes on her.

{A thing he regrets now.}

Turn her attention from craft to the life she bore. Spend time with her.

Edited 2015-02-06 08:17 (UTC)

It is not that - but I think... I think Muscovy was very ill treated. He trusts very few.

[ The madness runs very deep, it is true ]

It is not so easy as that. In many ways, we Noldor look for this - the one work that others will remember us for. This is hers - I cannot, nay I will not take it from her. I will stay by her, never fear that - she will need me, now that Maedhros is gone, as much as I need her.

{He grimaces and gives his head a sharp shake.}

By who? Have you asked him?

{Aragorn knows how to approach those who have been ill-treated. They are usually animals, but he could be kind and comfort Muscovy.}

I was taught from an early age to stand alone. My Elven foster-kin will sail far from Gondor and I will not see them for many a year. Arwen will suffer the loss too, but we will endure and rebuild the kingdoms of Men.

I fear what will become of you if she loses herself to this task. Can you stand alone?

He named two names when the Dogs were about. I do not know if they were people or Nations. And he talks of Mongolia and China, as well, and based on how he talks, those two are most certainly Nations. I suspect, most of his hurts are from his status as a Nation - and, I think, caused by other Nations. If you think on it, War, when fought on a personal level such as must be done for such as he, must be a terrible thing indeed.

[ The smile is sweet and sad and accepting ]

You already know the answer to that, Aragorn. [ No. If his mother goes, he will follow. ]

He experiences all of his citizen's woes at once. {War must be the stuff of nightmares - enough to drive a country mad - and Aragorn hates thinking of a child - country or not - enduring that pain alone.} I will do what I can to soften his pain.

{He wants to curse - he wants to rage - but instead he grits his teeth and drags Maglor into a tight hug.}

Yes. He fears famine, and he dislikes the cold.

[ Maglor nods, and then Aragorn is hugging him and he goes very very still in surprise before very slowly his arms come up and then he is clinging and weeping into Aragorn's shoulder ]

Then we shall keep him well-fed and warm.

{Words of comfort have abandoned him. He knows it's selfish to ask Maglor to suffer and stay if his mother leaves, but that's precisely what he wants to do. Maglor is one he never imagined he would meet - nor like so well. Aragorn has always had a problem saying farewell - even when he knows it's for the best.

He breathes in deeply and lets the Elf spend himself of tears. A few slip down his cheeks too, but he pays them no mind. It's far more important to comfort now than be comforted - and Maglor has sore need of a shoulder to cry on.}

[ The worst of the storm Maglor spent in rage and grief at his mother's feet, so his grief is sharp and brief, if no less terrible for that ]

Forgive me. I did not mean to weep.

{Freeing a handkerchief - unused - from his pocket, he holds it out to Maglor.}

Why are tears a crime? Shed as many as the stars in the sky and I will not judge you for it.

[ He blinks curiously and nods in thanks, using it to wipe the worst of the tear tracks from his eyes. He even manages a quiet broken smile ]

I think there are even more than that, for was it not said to us that tears unnumbered would we shed?

{There are tear tracks on his cheeks too, glistening in the faint light.}

Tears do not always mean grief. They can be shed in joy too.

I fear I have long forgotten what such tears may mean.

You are equipped to feel them nonetheless.

Equipped? Maybe. But those are not for such as I, I think.

The day will come, I pray, when you will see Lord Elrond.

Perhaps. But I will not wish his return here, and I will not return home, if it sunder me from my mother again.

It is not our wishes that draws them here. {He gives him a curious look.} I sometimes think the lot of women is harder.

Maybe. But all my choices go ill, I will not add to them with this sin as well.

[ A quiet shrug ] Mother chose not to follow father. In the end, she chose aright, but her price is as high as any of ours.

{He gives Maglor a sad, tender smile, leaning in to rest their heads together congenially.}

Men can act - they can choose. Most women are forced to wait and be patient. I do not think I would be a dutiful woman.

[ A soft snort but he does not refuse the gesture or pull away ]

Mother chose. She always has done so - the only one who could meet and match Feanor's fire was always and only Nerdanel.

Then she is a remarkable lady indeed. {He can't help but think of Eowyn.} The life of an Elf offers time to make such matches, I suppose.

[ He smiles wistfully ]

She is. Father would never have been able to love anyone but his equal.

I am to wed my better and I am glad of it. {His smile says all.}

Hm. We always do, I think, but truly it was said of Feanor that he was both the best and the worst of us. Still, in some ways mother was always his better. But she could not hold him, nor any of us, in the end.

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