eachdraidh | memory. open to both courts.

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memory. open to both courts.

[ All around is white, snow whips across the picture along with long strands of pale golden hair. A pace or two away a couple figures stand huddled together, pressed against a wall of a mountain. Two tall men, four hobbits whose heads barely stand above the surface of the snow, A DWARF* that stands a little taller yet still, and a greying man dressed in greys in a pointed hat. The image, oddly enough, shows them from somehow above all. ]

If Gandalf would go before us with a bright flame, he might melt a path for you.

[ For some, perhaps a familiar voice, for others perhaps not. Light of heart and little troubled by the storm. The man in the pointed hat answers him. ]

If Elves could fly over mountains, they might fetch the Sun to save us.

[ But no matter the wizard and elf exchanging jabs at each other, there are still Men with ideas here. One speaks: ]

Well, when heads are at a loss bodies must severe, as we say in my country. The strongest of us must seek a way. See! Though all is now snow-clad, our path, as we came up, turned about that shoulder or rock down yonder. It was there that the snow first began to burden us. If we could reach that point, maybe it would prove easier beyond. It is no more than a furlong off, I guess.

[ Another - the tallest - answers him: ]

Then let us force a path thither, you and I!

[ And for a moment there it seems that would be the end of the conversation, the camera - so to speak - follows the toiling men, the way they work through the snow with great trouble yet also with some success. Yet not before long, Legolas speaks up again, his voice rising easily in the noise of the snow storm. ]

The strongest must seek a way, say you? But I say: let a ploughman plough, but choose an otter for swimming, and for running light over grass and leaf, or over snow - an Elf!

[ With that said, he springs forth nimbly. The camera briefly showing his feet on the snow, sinking but only a little, leaving little imprints in the cover of snow. And he runs light and easy. ]

Farewell! I go to find the Sun!

[ He says with a last look to Gandalf first, then to the toiling men, Aragorn and Boromir. For them, he has a wave of a hand, before he speeds off. ]

( ooc; paraphrased book excerpt, sassing off to a maia, have at! visual aid, I mean what. *blanche is a loser kill me now I FORGOT GIMLI )

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[ a long thoughtful pause, then ]

In snow and ice, the singing dies
The winter cold and long
But merry and bright, is warmth and light
of good friends brave and strong
And better than ploughs or shovels great
Are the swift feet of the elves
To fetch the sun, though she tarry long
Beneath the clouds of grey

[ ~~Can he just keep you forever, Maglor?!~~ Legolas's eyes light up when the first notes of a clear singing voice reach his ears, the meanings of the words quickly following and he listens with rapt attention until the moment Maglor is done. Only then does he speak up, his grin sharp and colouring his voice with great joy and amusement. ]

I shall learn the notes and the words and from this morn on, this is how this story shall be told. [ He bows his head, honoured, yet still mirthful. ] Thank you.

[ Maglor ducks his head with a small pleased smile - he's always known he was good, but it still pleases him to know that this small skill remains to him ]

I do not think it so fine a song as that, little prince. But I am glad that you enjoyed it.

[ When it doubt, sing to the Woodland Realm Prince, easy to please and generously showing all his appreciation.

Like right now. ]

And ever humble the songster. I should ask for more opportunities to listen to you, or perhaps to sing with you, though I fear I have no skill with words the way you do.

[ a quiet sad little smile ]

My songs are more often sad than joyful these days, so I thank you for a chance for something a little brighter. I would like to hear you sing, Legolas.

[ No comment about his skill with words, Maglor knows how good he is with that ]

[ A smile is a smile, and it will certainly be counted among the small victories of his. One, he hopes, of many. ]

You are welcome, though it has not been of my own doing.

[ And perhaps now he will earn another. ]

In my time, I have learned some dwarvish songs and the songs sung by hobbits on many an occasion. I would be glad to share those for some of yours, if you would have this trade with me.

[ He does~ Still more sad than any smile should be, but Maglor does still love his music ]

For such a trade offered my own songs seem a poor exchange, but aye, I would not mind that at all, Legolas.

[ Little steps, any thread of cheer that help. ]

They will be as sung by me, and never have I quite managed to capture their nature, so the trade, in the end, is not quite as precious as it ought have been.

[ Though perhaps he could convince Fili, Kili and Bilbo to join them on their little sing-along. ]

[ a soft amused chuff ]

Well, I will have to be the judge of that, I suppose. [ We can pretend I'm grading lessons in the Music Academy in Tirion ]

Unless you wish your friends who taught you such songs to be the ones to do so?

[ Oh dear, what has he done! Brought a test upon his own head, and he affects distress at the thought. ]

Ah, so long has it been since I have been tested! 'tis a worrying thought and may yet affect my performance.

[ No, Legolas shut up, though his amusement then drops a notch. There is a certain fondness still, but coloured with mourning. ]

Mm, those who taught me have long passed and the monarchs did not see them fit to bring them to this foolish war. For the best too, perhaps, I would love to see their faces once more, youthful and cheerful as I do my best to remember them by, but I would not wish this fate on them.

Though I am certain the dwarves and our sole hobbit would be willing to sing with us as well, further if we had wine and good food to offer as well.

[ Well if you are going to ask a bard to rate your singing... ]

Aye - best to spare as many as possible this fate. [ a soft sigh and another faint smile ] Well, if you wish to request such a task of those here already, I will not gainsay you - although I think me they will be a crueler taskmaster than I.

[ Legolas takes it all in good jest, far from actually seriously bothered or thinking it too difficult for him to pass. In the end, whether his singing of the highest quality or not matters little to him, he enjoys it nonetheless. ]

Perhaps then I should have only you witnessing my first attempts at performing those songs.

Perhaps. [ Almost despite himself, Maglor is still smiling ]

It depends, I suppose, on who you think will be fairer in the grading.

[ Legolas casts his gaze to the side, giving this serious (not) thought. ]

I feel the answer to this would be you.

[ If only because he's half certain Fili and Kili would like to tease him, and Bilbo likely could be convinced by them as well. ]

Hm. I suppose I will have to do my best to live up to your expectations then, little prince.

[ cheeky brat ]

And have you a plan for a time then, for this examination of yours?

That would be most kind of you, [ Of course he spins it in his favour, yet still follows up with a bit of a challenge, regardless of how impossible it is to ... have on in this. Since one of them is to do grading, and the other is the graded one. ] I would not have it but you doing your best.

[ Now he considers this too, although briefly. ]

Any time when you are available. Little responsibilities I have here and little preparation I need, as I know all these songs by heart already.

[ Distraction, little brother murmurs Maedhros in his ears but Maglor only shrugs at Legolas in reply ]

We are both at the station, are we not? You may seek me as it please you, little prince. And I will hope you regret not such an asking.

Very well then. May I seek you out now?

[ Nothing better to do now, after all, might just as well. ]

Or is finding you a part of the test?

If you wish it, Legolas.

[ a tip of the head ] I imagine I am not hard to find.

[ simply follow the harp ]

[ He is outside, in the stables, playing for Daud's cleg right now, who has taken to him and House both (but not Javik, much to everyone save the Prothean's amusement) with the loss of his master ]

Very well, I will see you soon in person.

[ And he closes the locket for a time, to instead head out. Keen ears open, eyes focused and searching as he wanders the Station. His first guess was to look outside indeed, like most elves Maglor likely vastly preferring the outdoors to the indoors and especially such foreign indoors.

Eventually the sound of a harp is what catches his attention and guides him towards the stables. And when he arrives he is quiet for a while, just listening to Maglor playing. ]

[ The Cleg does not mind if his songs are happy or sad, but out here by himself, with nothing around him but the smell of the stable and the company of the horses kept here, it is easier, perhaps, to play the simpler tunes of Tirion long ago.

When Legolas comes in the Cleg lifts his head to snort distrustfully at the new person before huffily returning to his hay. Maglor's grey is more welcoming - nickering softly in a bid for treats as he reaches over his stable door. ]

You have found me then. [ Maglor lifts his hands from the strings and smiles a little ] And did you bring the sun with you, or songs to tempt her with?

[ Earning smiles, really, all in a good day's work. No matter how small or brief, or how sad. It's always a start perhaps for something better and brighter, perhaps for lightening the day just a little and scattering the clouds and shadows.

He offers one of his own now, touching a hand to the muzzle of a grey mount and stroking with apology for a lack of treats. ]

You do not make it a difficult task. [ As if, in this, he had expected a challenge at all. The Station is not such a large place in the end. ] It is summer now, I would not ever disturb Sun in her work now.

[ This is his season, after all. ]

But I do have songs to share.

[ Maglor's grey is spoilt, and will happily butt his head against this new person who pets him even without the treats, shoving affectionately ]

Hm, very considerate of you, little prince. Hiswafan, go back to your stall and stop bothering him, you great bully.

[ The grey rolls his eyes affectionately at his elf and continues to lip at Legolas in hopes of discovering a hidden treat. Shaking his head, Maglor shrugs a little and turns back to Legolas ]

Then I will be glad to hear them.

[ Legolas doesn't mind the nudging and pressing at all, he smiles at the horse and whispers cooing words to soothe it and offer further apology. ]

Here? Or should we move elsewhere?

[ Hiswafan allows himself to be mollified and Maglor shakes his head in amusement at his behaviour ]

Elsewhere I think - or at least, out of reach of this big baby. We will get nothing done so long as he deems himself not appropriately placated. I suppose I have spoilt him.

memory. open to both courts.

I APOLOGISE FOR MY CRAP POETRY

NEVER APOLOGISE

ALWAYS APOLOGISING

S T O P

MAKE ME

I WILL

FINE

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