eachdraidh | Accidental Video | Seelie & Unseelie | sometime during a break in worm fighting

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Accidental Video | Seelie & Unseelie | sometime during a break in worm fighting

[ The locket comes alive with a voice - deep and wild as the sea, it sings a lament in a language that seems made for music. The songs starts partway, and it is obvious perhaps that the singer is not aware that he is being recorded. There is the flash of one of the Unseelie imps, before it vanishes offscreen to reveal the singer - a man, or something like one, dark haired and grey eyed, with his face turned up to the stars.

To any who listen, the words of the song will paint themselves in the mind - white ships and blood on the sand, a tall and proud people with bright banners beneath a new-born sun, fire and blood and tears unimaginable, and three brilliant jewels that rival the stars ]

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Ey.

'Ey!

[ So much for interrupting him politely. ]

I wanna sing like that, huh? Teach me!

[ Maglor starts and blinks on surprise at the child on the screen ]

I do not know if that particular ability may be taught child, but I suppose I could make an attempt.

Jus' 'cause I'm a pup? [ Wow, no. He'll scrunch up his nose and do his best angry face. ] I can sing, I sing all the time! An' I do bird calls for signals.

I can do it, too! I promise, if'n you'll teach me, hu?

[ A pup and Maglor cannot quite help the small quirk of his lips ]

I do not doubt that you can, pityahuan, nor that your voice is as sweet as any sparrow in her nest. But the Art of elven-song is not a skill that may be easily taught to those not of our kind. I mind not the attempt, however.

Good, 'cause if you ain't lettin' me try then... [ He'll think of an insult, later. He's far too enamoured. ]

An' I ain't no pitty-won, whatever that means. M'Gavroche.

[ And that gets a genuine smile ]

Well, little master Gavroche, good meeting to you then. Maglor, I am. Pityahuan means "little hound" in the language of my people, and I will do my best.

[ and the smile flickers and fades to something sad and wistful ] Only... I think me you are in my opposing court, and any lesson had best be done with care and at a distance, I fear.

I can be a Pitawon, no problem! I'm a lotta things. A pup an' a gamin an' now a Pitawon.

And it ain't matter, courts and stuff, huh? They're just places where you sleep. I ain't gonna trust no authority, no matter what they say.

Oh? And what is a 'gamin', then, little hound?

Some authority is not to be trusted, aye - yet there will always be those who lead, and those who follow. Here, the courts are separated by distance, but I fear, also by other things beside. There are many in this court who will see only your size, and not your bite, perhaps. Have a care! Many here will treat you with far less courtesy than I, and our hosts may not look kindly on those who breach the barriers they set.

It's... [ Hmmm. Gavroche wrinkles his nose in thought. ] ....S'like some one who lives on the streets, summat. But they gotta be little, like me. [ Malgor has a point. A point that Gavroche has been trying to ignore for a while--there are other things. Once more, he's just a pawn.

He didn't die for this. He really, really wishes he had Enjolras' wisdom. Courfeyrac's kind words. ]

I didn't let the King rule me an' I ain't gonna let these courts rule me, either.

Strong words, little hound. [ Once, long ago, Maglor would have laughed and found it charming, to see one so small bare teeth at the great. But that was long ago, and now it only drives daggers of memory into his heart "You cannot keep us behind walls forever!" and he only smiles a little sadly. ]

Have a care they do not turn back to bite you.

[ 'lives on the streets' is an odd turn of phrase, but Maglor thinks he guesses the meaning ]

Had you no kin then, to take you in?

[ Oh, he knows. He knows about walls and biting back. He knows about scared students trying to be brave, and he knows about fire, and death, and he knows the exact sound a horse makes when it decides to give up, and the sound a fully grown man makes when said horse crushes his legs. But he's all too familiar with being killed for crown and king.

He knows all of this, but still, he smiles brightly. Grins as wide as he can and answers the next question proudly-- ]

Oh, I had kin, but they ain't recognize me. They pushed me out but I just flew instead of fallin', m'sieur Malgor.

[ Maglor frowns a little, for why would any refuse such a bright child? ]

Truly? That is cruel indeed little hound, and I am glad you found your wings instead.

Adults, they get all sad, huh? Like you. Gettin' all sad, an' singing sad songs. Ain't no need. You just gotta look ahead an' lookit what you can actually fix, huh?

[ The smile Gavroche gets is a sad thing - faint and wavering, but he tries ]

And wisdom as well! A treasure indeed they cast aside, little hound. I will try, Gavroche, but I have had little cause for joy of late.

Well, you're here, huh? An' you're alive an' kickin'. That's a pretty good reason for joy!

[ the smile firms a little and Maglor bows, a brief tip of the head ]

A reason to go on, at the least. [ he agrees ] As for joy... we shall see.

Nah, y'gotta appreciate livin'. I did an' I still miss it, even though I'm back.

I have not had much reason to appreciate much of late pityahuan.

... What do you miss, little hound? [ ... because surely he heard wrong. Gavorche was DEAD? ]

I appreciate you so you should appreciate yourself, huh? [ He'll grin his widest, too. ] I miss bein' alive, but--in France.

[ Maglor tips his head in a bow, courtly and graceful, mostly to hide the amused smile ]

Well, I can certainly make an attempt at it, little hound. Where is France then?

[ ... so this is another who has been pulled from the jaws of death ]

Y'ain't know France, huh? Then you won't know Paris, and you won't know Rue Plummet, or Saint Michele, or the Seine. Hmmmm....

Paris is this beautiful city in the country of France. An' it's always busy and crowded an' I been Everywhere, I can draw all the roads an' alleys on the sand if you want.

It sounds fair indeed, little hound. You must love her very much, your great city. She must be very large indeed. And who rules her?

I can tell you who should.

Oh? And who might that be, pityahuan?

The people. The people! Nuffin' with fancy crowns, not just one person decreeing! You gotta listen to everyone's voice.

Accidental Video | Seelie & Unseelie | sometime during a break in worm fighting

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