eachdraidh | Open Accidental/Deliberate Post to EVERYONE 29th

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Open Accidental/Deliberate Post to EVERYONE 29th

The sound that tears from the lockets early in the morning of the twenty-ninth is inhuman. Keening, jagged and sharp-edged as a sword, it turns blood in veins to ice and freezes the very stars in the sky. It is grief and loss and utter despair. And it is hatred too, old and deep and as dangerous as any slumbering volcano when it wakes. It is unforgettable, and it forces you to close your ears to it lest it destroy your heart.

The video that accompanies it is obviously taken by a fairy, and the scene is one of devastation, Maglor crumpled over a golden-haired form. One thing immediately obvious is that this, despite the war banners flying and the armored soldiers, was no death in battle - the area around them is too clear, the placements too precise - this was an execution.

"Turko, Turko, no no no! Not again, no, please, not again!"

(ooc: so... Mags is obviously not replying to this. Link will take you to the battle log and Mags' speech, rather than me write it out twice ahaha. There is also a log going up for after where Mags can be reached... sorta. Will might answer this if you ping it, or you can just react. People Mags knows well might get his fairy, but don't expect much sense out of it either)

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[ She can't even begin to choke out words. His words may be absurd, but they do ring partially with her. She's tired, angry, and horrified beyond words right now. So when she sees this, her heart aches, because she knows that maddening pain all too well. What would anyone do if they found their family member like this? Wouldn't they too be devastated? The idiot said he was going to withdraw troops and go back with the jewel and this isn't what she was expecting.

Alice manages a choked sob, stifling herself with a hand over her mouth. Mourn the dead, but more the living more than the dead because they have to carry that pain, too. Anger will follow suit; this could have been avoided had both sides talked rationally. She does not know any of them very well, still, the shock is inevitable.

There's really no words, other than wishing things could have been very, very different. Alice covers her face, taking in deep breaths to calm herself. This whole thing is ridiculous; this scene is horrible to watch. ]

[ Generation after generation, the tempers in their line have been soothed, they cooled and the fires of them grew more and more difficult to spark. From Oropher whose fire nearly consumed him, what was exactly what brought him to his doom, through Thranduil who has learned with his father's example to contain it, to Legolas himself a soul most gentle by nature yet like the forest itself is his temper, like summer leaves richly green and full of life. Only the most scorching fire these leaves will take to...

And such he feels right now, watching the feed with speechless silence, eyes blown wide.

That fire razes him to cinders and ashes and when Maglor is done speaking, he feels deep void within himself. Rage he had always found to be a terrible emotion. Hatred a foolish thing that destroyed one more so than any other feeling.

This is not what he ever agreed to be a part of, when he joined the Seelie Court.

This is not what he ever wished to take part in.

This is not what he thought his once allies to ever be like.

He breathes at last, snapping shut the locket and turning on his heel to gather his people.

Rage is the most pointless of emotions, rage is the least constructive of them all, unless there is a way to channel it into something. It destroys, otherwise, just like hatred slowly kills and eats you from within, poisons blood and thoughts and right now he needs to breathe else he chokes on that poison. Right now he needs to leave, no more delays, no more stalling, there is something his father has been asked to do and it has been passed on to him now. His father's heir. If there ever was a matter with which to use this anger, it's this. Use it as drive to do something that will offer peace for all those who need a home or wish not to fight.

That was all he wished for, wasn't it? To honour the Oath and to protect a home.

And yet beneath it all is also grief, he - one of the so very few who had all the right to hate Celegorm - feels grief for his death. ]

[It is only anger that Ganondorf feels at this display. Anger for Celegorm's foolishness, the manner in which he died, and whoever it was responsible for it. Celegorm had already suffered for chasing the Silmaril, but the executioner would be made to suffer for this insult. His tone was even, though an obvious anger punctuated each word.]

Who did this?

[ Maglor's voice is distant, empty and cold - he retreats behind the mask of the Prince, of the High King, and already his heart's return begins to tell on him, but to none outside of his kin will he show this weakness ]

Her life is mine.

[He has not forgotten in the time that passed, but he had given up on expecting an answer. He expected to find out when the remainder of the Unseelie forces returned. Even now, the elf offers him nothing.]

Grant me her name and I shall let you have that privilege when I have finished with her. Otherwise, I will take it for myself.

[ A considering pause ]

Her life, her death. Her joys and her sorrows. Her pain and her healing. As weregild I claim them. Her name is Clarisse La Rue.

[ Literally he claims her life ]

Then let her be cursed, so that she might fear to ever leave the walls of Caer Glaem. For if she does, I will use all at my disposal to see her on her knees.

[He will let Maglor take her life. Ganondorf has a strong respect for those who need vengeance. But the shard will be his.]

[ A quiet bow ]

May it be as you have said.

[ Oh, Maglor has no intention of killing her. Oh no no - that's far too quick and easy. He has other plans. If she likes War so much, then Maglor plans to be aggressively peaceful at her. Let her choke on his mercy, let her stew and have no target for her rage. ]

[Galadriel wishes that she could summon up the tears that Maglor sheds for Celegorm. She wishes that she could do something more than look on in horror with the growing realization that it's happening again, that it's still happening and it will never stop. It's becoming increasingly clear that what hope she had held for her cousins- that their paths might be less bloody here, that they might find some other end-- was in vain from the very beginning.

Perhaps later she'll find the strength to argue with herself again, to tell herself that there is still a chance, however small. But now, in this moment of grief, all she sees is the inevitability of more bloodshed, of a tragic end for them all. Again. And she's tired. So tired of the weight of it all.

She has no hope of reaching Maglor when he's like this, she knows. So she addresses his fairy instead, her voice hollow and emotionless.]

Tell Makalaure that Artanis would speak to him, little one, when he is in a state to hear it. [There's a significance to the use of the old name that she trusts him to understand. She wishes to speak to him, not as a great Lady, not as one of the Wise, but as his cousin- and Celegorm's cousin. As the family they are, fragmented and broken though they may be.]

[ The tiny fairy nods, her chimes sad and mournful and worried and then gestures frantically Something is wrong, something is wrong lady! She swings the locket around so Galadriel can see, Maglor pale and silent on the ground next to Celegorm's pyre, and his Light has gone out. ]

[By now she has seen the heart and with Maglor like this- well, she is making some astute guesses. Her instinct is to go to him, but she does not know where he is and she is not about to search the woods just hoping to come across him. So for now, she speaks, loudly and clearly, hoping that her voice will rouse him. It's the first step and if it does not work- she'll think of something.]

Makalaure. Makalaure, speak to me.

[ Mags, come on, wake up! Maglor stirs, responding to the tone as much as anything. Will is nearby, Elincia likewise, and between the two of them they had him roused before, but he slips back to sleep (or something like sleep) far too easily. ]

Artanis? [ Grey eyes blink open dully and take a while before they fix on the locket ] What is it, Galadriel?

[She breaths a sigh of relief.] Makalaure, I feared- [Well, it's obvious what she feared. But things still aren't right. This isn't ordinary grief (and the heart in Celebrian's possession keeps haunting her thoughts). She frowns and her brow furrows.] What has happened?

[ He blinks at her slowly, the Light gone from his eyes, the Music from his voice ]

I am not sure. Will and I... I was... arranging things for Tyelko. Making sure the Silmaril was safe. I... told him I was tired. And then... I fell.

[ a considering pause ] I think... my heart is gone again?

[She will get to the 'again' part of this in a moment. Right now she is a little too busy looking horrified.]

I believe it is- and it is in my daughter's possession. Makalaure, what have you done?

[ Another slow considering blink ]

Nothing on purpose? But I think... the magic took it as permission.

[She frowns deeply] What magic?

The last time... I made a wish. A week and a day without the pain and regret. I did not consider... how that wish might be accomplished.

Makalaure, how could you be so foolish?

[ Makalaure would have flushed and ducked and stuttered in embarassment, but Maglor shrugs tiredly and emptily ]

I was tired. I am... sorry? I was not thinking.

[She can't even lecture him like this. There's no point to it. Instead, she just sighs.]

How may this be undone?

[ He shrugs a little ]

I do not know. The last time, I set a time limit - a week and a day. I suppose there is no reason to imagine it any different, this time.

[Well that's...better than nothing, she supposes.]</small. How did you do this, if I may ask?

I... this time I do not know? But Will agrees it was probably a result of the wish. I was only telling him how I was so tired... and then Will says he felt the magic activate again.

[ A pause and then he remembers that Will had a video come up recently and so he offers ] There was nothing like Will's memory - I think the magic simply chose that method as the most efficient to solving the wish.

[She bites her lower lip, an old tell that she had (mostly) trained herself out of long ago.] Could Will put this to rights?

I... do not think so. Not without me using a wish, and I would prefer not to do so. [ Since. it was a wish that caused this, and it would also be his last wish, and he doesn't want to potentially lock Will in his bottle when he uses it up ]

[If he's right, this will likely set itself to rights in time. Which means her attention needs to shift to keeping him going until then- keeping his light from going out. There's a slight pause before she changes topics.]

Where do you intend to go from here, cousin? Will you return to the Station?

[ A long pause and then he nods slowly ]

I... think that would be for the best. I am... in no fit state to be wandering, I think, and Will agrees.

Then it will not be long ere I see you again. Until then, Maglor, please do take care. [Please. Your safety still matters to her, even if it doesn't to you.]

Will will look after me. [ He nods quietly ] I will see you soon.

[The sound, the sight, it makes her heart ache. There's no love between her and Celegorm, Maglor knows that. Anybody that knows her knows that she doesn't care for the fair-haired Feanorian. But she does care about Maglor who she'd only ever known through stories from her mother and her husband, who she'd been glad to meet while here and who had protected her when she'd frozen at the sight of orcs. He's promised her that he'd speak to his brother about releasing Elrond to her when he'd been captured.

Everything she feels, she feels for Maglor. And she closes her locket while she cries for him, not wanting him to see and giving him time to himself. Later though he'll receive a simple message. She could have written more but, right now, this is all she feels she can get out.]

I love you, Uncle. Be well.

[ The tiny fairy on the screen is frantic with worry, chiming at the silver haired lady she recognises something is wrong with my singer! ]

[Celebrían gently shushes the fairy, as she would if this was one of her children who were upset.] It will be alright, little one. We will make it alright.

[ a sad mournful chime answers her, but she settles and nods. Yes ]

[She smiles, very faintly, to the fairy.] Would you stay with him for me and keep an eye on him?

[ a firm determined nod I can do that ]

Thank you, little one. And do not let him shoo you away as I am sure he will try.

[ Yes! Come quickly? ]

[She would. As quickly as was possible.]

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Open Accidental/Deliberate Post to EVERYONE 29th

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private voice a week and two days later

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video ... lol I love how both of them have the same tell /sob

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