eachdraidh | audio; forward-dated to post-feast

[ his arrival hadn't been graceful by any stretch of the imagination. in fact, mostly it had been a blur. his first conscious memories are of fire, burning alive as the silmaril sears through his hand and the flames take him. smoke lingers in the air around him, and there are voices, and the flames are gone and he is still here--

he doesn't remember, exactly, what had happened after that, but the beautiful rooms he's been given are destroyed, and his throat is raw, the echo of a shriek still caught there, and his only good hand burns and burns. he can't do this, can't do this, can't do this can't do this can't can't can't can'tcan'tcan't--

time. moments or hours or years, who is he to tell? these are not the halls, he knows, he's been denied even death. and there is laughter, soft, sly, purring at his ear. that voice will ever be with him, spreading its rot through his veins, flexing its claws against his heart-- until poison pumps through it, until it's darkness alone sustaining him. that voice, which had spoken to him when he'd lain shattered and barely comprehending.

kinslayer, it murmurs, and a void opens beneath maedhros, and he cannot remember-- kinslayer, what hast thou wrought for thyself? these are the fruits of thy labour. a deathless existence, an oath forever unfulfilled. family slain, people scattered, a legacy of destruction.

he grasps for something, anything, struggling through the mire of his mind: his hand clenches, fresh pain drowning out the whisper. he is in unfamiliar rooms, an unfamiliar place, and there had been creatures, strange creatures, and--

--and?

feverish eyes land on the locket, discarded and opened at his feet. speak, he remembers. speak, and he might be heard. but is there anyone, anyone at all, that he would wish to speak to?

if this is where the cursed sons of feanor are taken when denied death, then-- ]

I-- [ the voice is a harsh croak, as if its owner's throat has been stripped raw by screaming. even so.. even so, there may be something familiar in it. maedhros takes a trembling breath through his nose, curled and shaking, scorched and bleeding hand curled almost white-knuckled around the locket. but even so, there's only his voice to judge. ] --I seek the sons of Feanor, should they be here.

[ with a quiet snap, he shuts the locket and ends the message. ]

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I knew Celegorm and feel lucky to have called him a friend.

[ he knows now that his brother has been killed. his death had been fitting, at least-- the sons of feanor live and die by the sword, and that will never change.

still, it allows something in his chest to unclench, knowing that there are people who remember his brother fondly. they are kinslayers and dispossessed, but there is more to them than the oath, no matter how much it devours. ]

.. Thank you. I am.. gladdened to know that he had companionship here.

I had the pleasure of going hunting with him and the honour to stay with him on his last night and up to the end. If there's anything I can do, just ask.

[ he's silent for several long moments, but at last he murmurs out a soft noise. ] .. You have my thanks, then, that he was not alone at the last. [ he seems to consider something, but finally clears his throat slightly, wincing to himself at the burn. ] I am his eldest brother, Maedhros. May I ask your name?

Despite the circumstances, it's good to meet you, Maedhros. My name is Harry.

[ His own voice is scratchy too, either from disuse or overuse. ]

'Harry'. [ there are a number of unusual names here, it seems, and he's probably in no mental state to remember them. hopefully maglor knows this youth, as well. ] Well-met under the circumstances, then, Harry. .. May I ask how my brother died? I was told in battle, but..

I don't fully understand the particulars, but from what I know, a young woman from the Seelie court was granted a gift by her Queen and this gift was a sort of stone. Celegorm was sworn to retrieve it, and so he gathered men and marched to battle.

The Unseelie side did well at first, but then great and powerful reinforcements arrived --[ Harry breaks off for a moment to get a drink of water. ]-- and the tide turned against us. Your brother negotiated a truce and exchanged his shard and life for the stone.

The woman executed him and took his shard. I didn't trust her to be ...to treat him with dignity, and went to make sure that his death would be quick and clean. It was. His brother took the body to perform the appropriate rites.

[ he goes cold all over, unseen eyes widening, haunted and horrified in his face. a stone. sworn to retrieve it.

a silmaril. there is a silmaril here. he glances down, nearly unseeing, at his ruined hand, the shape of the silmaril seared into flesh and muscle, nearly to the bone. there is a silmaril here, and they will never, never escape the oath.

he doesn't want to ask. he wants to pretend he hadn't heard that. but he has no choice, and never will again. ]

The-- stone. [ panic claws down his spine, icy, vision black at the edges as he struggles to keep his breathing even. ] Do you know what has become of it?

I'm sorry, no.

The trade was made in good faith, so I assume his brother has it. I've heard no more about it since then and if she had gone back on the deal, ...well, quite a lot of us would've made an effort to change that.

[ maglor has it. surely, he does, or maglor too would have fought to take it. but then, why had he not mentioned it yet? perhaps.. perhaps because maedhros' state is so poor.

he rubs the back of his hand over an eye, squeezing them shut as he calms himself. the silmaril is in their possession, surely. but then.. what of the other? ]

.. Thank you. I will be certain to ask Maglor. But Harry, I must warn you-- you should not become too deeply involved with our family, particularly where that stone and its brothers are involved.

Is it cursed? Because, I've dealt with a lot of things like that.

[ Harry is quite sure that anything that troubles one of the elves is far beyond his ability to fix, but he wants to know. ]

[ a short, rasping laugh, far from amused. ]

In a manner of speaking, after all this time. .. It's less to do with the gems themselves than with an Oath my brothers and I swore. An Oath that we can never escape. You must understand, to stand between those gems and the Feanoriannath-- [ he trails off. ] 'Tis unwise. You saw what Celegorm was willing to do in order to obtain it.

Ah.

[ That is a quiet sound of understanding. ]

I'm so very sorry. And I should warn you, if you're in the Unseelie court, the Queen didn't look too favourably on his choice. She lost a shard to the Seelie and that's not something she'll easily forgive.

There is no need for apologies. We earned our fates.

[ the information earns a musing noise, though. ] Thank you, I will remember that. I do not intend to stay here long, though. I have fought wars enough, and have no desire to fight someone else's.

[ Harry turns on the video aspect of his locket. The image is of a young man in his late teens, maybe his early twenties, in plain clothing. His most notable feature is that he is missing an eye - where it once would have sat there is a pale, silver field of scar tissue that is almost perfectly healed and a red amber sphere that acts as a prosthetic. ]

Should we ever run into each other, or if you need a wizard's help, just ask.

[ there's a long pause on the other end as maedhros studies him, brows drawing together thoughtfully as he eyes the scarred eye and its prosthetic.

.. he has no desire to show his own face, but.. it would be polite, and this young human has been kind and informative.

he takes another moment to recall how to turn on the image, and eventually his own is revealed. pale and scarred, he's nevertheless still surprisingly lovely, with a shock of scarlet hair tumbled in unraveling braids around his face. his expression, though, is stony and unreadable, but he offers a small nod to acknowledge harry. ]

I will do so. Thank you. [ the image flicks back off, then, less shy than overaware of the state he's in. ] .. Wizard, though.. [ he's not positive of the translation, but that seems familiar. ]

Yes, I can use magic. I gave your brother a cloak that repelled the rain. It was charmed to keep the wearer warm and dry.

[ Harry doesn't know this, but it might be the same bloody cloak that was hung as a victory trophy in Caer Glaem. ]

.. I see. [ he seems youthful to be so powerful. but then, perhaps it's common in this place. ] I am certain he was grateful. I will certainly keep such offer of services in mind.

Good luck in your journey and take care.

audio; forward-dated to post-feast

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