Maglor Makalaure Canafinwe Feanorion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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eachdraidh2014-06-09 04:29 pm
bythewaves) wrote in eachdraidh2014-06-09 04:29 pm
Accidental Video, unlocked to both courts, sometime during the event
[ The video flicks on to a song, soft and sweet and sad. The voice is familiar, it has been heard, in similar circumstances, before - the singer is also probably easily recognizable, and it is fairly obvious that the singer once again does not know that he is being recorded (this is something of a trend) There is a fearie who chitters at the screen before zipping off again ]
Hush now dear ones,
Rest your eyes
None will bring you harm
Sleep my sweet ones
Fear no noise
For I will keep you warm
[ It is a lullaby - an old one, sweet and gentle, but sung oh, so sadly. He wrote this, long ago for the youngest of his brothers, to keep them calm and help them sleep. He rewrote it, years and years later, when there was only one twin left, and sung it as a dirge. He rewrote it one final time, for twin peredhil boys, who he had stolen all joy from. He sings all three versions now, in a soft round, looping back on themselves - quiet peace, grief, and apology, all twining together to make something that says, as clearly as if he spoke the words:
I miss those days, when we were happy, for there is only sorrow now
Maglor is outside the station and he keeps his voice low, so as not to disturb those inside who might not want to hear one of the Feanorionnath. He does not look well (he will not fade, he promised, but he is so very close), but a bit calmer, perhaps (killing imps is good stress relief). He also has an audience which he does not appear to notice - namely, the faerie who turned on the locket (perhaps it was one of the Ainsel, before) ]
Hush now dear ones,
Rest your eyes
None will bring you harm
Sleep my sweet ones
Fear no noise
For I will keep you warm
[ It is a lullaby - an old one, sweet and gentle, but sung oh, so sadly. He wrote this, long ago for the youngest of his brothers, to keep them calm and help them sleep. He rewrote it, years and years later, when there was only one twin left, and sung it as a dirge. He rewrote it one final time, for twin peredhil boys, who he had stolen all joy from. He sings all three versions now, in a soft round, looping back on themselves - quiet peace, grief, and apology, all twining together to make something that says, as clearly as if he spoke the words:
I miss those days, when we were happy, for there is only sorrow now
Maglor is outside the station and he keeps his voice low, so as not to disturb those inside who might not want to hear one of the Feanorionnath. He does not look well (he will not fade, he promised, but he is so very close), but a bit calmer, perhaps (killing imps is good stress relief). He also has an audience which he does not appear to notice - namely, the faerie who turned on the locket (perhaps it was one of the Ainsel, before) ]
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[She smiles honestly.]
But I'm holding up alright, really. I'm tougher than I look. I can take this war and all the things the Queen tries to tell us.
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For I fear this will only get worse before it gets better, if indeed it ever does.
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I suppose we're only at the surface, aren't we? We've only been away for just a bit, only been in a few battles.
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The first skirmishes, a testing of strength. We are not yet at open war - but already the push begins.
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...I suppose we just have to take it all as it comes.
[What else can they do?]
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Will you be well, Mistress Clara?
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Of course, I'll be alright. Always am.
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Well, then I hope your words prove true indeed! Did you have a chance to speak to the Lady Galadriel?
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I've been a bit preoccupied. Thinking about what the queen said.
[It's been eating away at her as much as she hates to admit.]
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[ an eyebrow goes up curiously ] Oh? And what did your Queen say? [ I wonder if she is any better than ours ]
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[She shakes her head and swallows.]
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Tis a cruel thing to sunder you from kin that way. I am sorry mistress Clara. It seems both sides care little for their pawns beyond ensuring that we are willing to fight for them.
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[Her face twists into the very definition of defiance.]
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Brave words milady. May your hand never be forced!
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And woe betide any who stand in the Lady Clara's way?
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Well then! I shall have to be careful not to incur your wrath milady! I suppose our rulers ought to wish the same.
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[She grins. She's just going to enjoy teasing him.]
Can't promise the same for the queen.
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I will do my best milady Clara. [ a small sly smile ] If you have occasion, I do hope that you will make a fine tale out of such an encounter.