eachdraidh | audio; forward-dated to post-feast

Entry tags:

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. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ there's something about this bilbo's tone that's so no-nonsense and sensible that he can't help the tiny quirk of his mouth. it's.. refreshing. it helps him focus on something other than-- well, everything else going on in his existence right now. ]

I fear that I have not heard of a place called the Shire, Master Baggins. Well-met regardless, though. I am Maedhros, eldest son of Feanor.

[He's good for that.]

Not many have. We hobbits tend to keep to ourselves seeing that we aren't very fond of outsiders usually. It is a very lovely place though if you are fond of good food, mostly pleasant company, and parties. [A smile.]

It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Maedhros. Did you arrive in one of the castles?

Hobbits. [ he's never heard of a hobbit, either. a people that arose after his death, perhaps? ] .. You must miss it dearly. [ he sounds fond of his home, at the least. there are days when maedhros misses his own, but it doesn't do much good to. he can never return, after all.

the question makes him lift his head, glancing at his destroyed room with something like embarrassment. he can't remember the last time he truly lost control like that. (not since morgoth, anyway.)]

I did, yes, though my brother is on his way to collect me like an errant elfling. [ a small, rusty, rasping little laugh, weary and self-effacing. ] It has been.. a trying arrival.

I do. Especially my bed and my gardens. I can only imagine how they must look now. [He sighs softly. Of course he missed it, but even if they were returned to their own world it would still be a time before he could see his comfortable hobbit hole again.]

It's reasonable, I think, to be upset at our situation here. You certainly wouldn't be the first so I wouldn't be too hard on yourself.

.. Your gardens..? [ that's oddly charming, and he finds himself slowly loosening his defensive curl in the corner, tipping his temple against the wall as he listens to bilbo. ] I cannot say I know much of gardens, having always been more inclined to the forges and to that which is martial, but perhaps your neighbors will maintain them until you return.

[ a brief pause, then, and he hums out a soft noise. ] You are kind to say so. To be truthful, though, as the eldest son, it is necessary that I.. collect myself in a more fitting manner.

Yes! I'm not as gifted as my neighbor, but my tomato plants were prize-winning. If I'm fortunate enough an overgrown garden will be the least of my worries. My cousin Lobelia has been eyeing my smial for quite some time now and I fear my absence will tempt her into moving in. [He sounds mildly annoyed at the thought, but right now it's the least of his worries. He can deal with his cousin another day whenever he actually manages to return home.] I am surprised though. I haven't met many elves who are inclined to gardening which is certainly not something I expected, but I suppose it is my own fault for assuming such things.

Well I am the only son of a very respectable estate and I can say very truthfully I have done a great many things these past few months that have been anything but respectable. [A tsk.] But if it troubles you so I'm sure you can make it up to him in no time while here, yes?

[ it's so ordinary, so far removed from the things that plague his thoughts, that he finds himself chuckling quietly, the sound strange and foreign in his ears. has it truly been so long since he's had cause for laughter? ]

There are those of my kind whom quite enjoy tending the natural world. I spent most of my youth learning what my father thought applicable to the High Kingship, though. .. Well, and chasing six younger brothers. [ a pause, hesitating, before speaking up again, more softly. ] Perhaps, while we are in this place together, you might teach me. Should we cross paths, that is.

.. I hope to. My brother deserves me at my best.

Six younger brothers? My, that would be very tiring! I may have only been an only child, but hobbits are known to have large families so I had many small cousins of my own to run after. The Took lasses were always more mischievous and caused me no end in grief. [Of course he speaks teasingly.]

Oh, I would love to! If we are ever to cross paths here I would be more than happy to teach you what I know. It can be very relaxing and even more rewarding, you know, gardening. [His excitement is infectious but he remembers himself quickly and laughs, embarrassed.] I apologize. Sometimes I ramble and I forget to stop myself before I make a fool out of myself.

It was, but I would give anything to have those days back. [ he clears his throat, realizing he's given away a bit more than he meant to. ] You sound fond of them, though. Are you eldest among your cousins?

[ a hum at the apology. ] There is nothing to apologize for, Master Baggins. Your passion for growing things, for life, is marvelous. There is nothing foolish about it, or about wanting to share that love with others.

[He smiles again sadly, unseen by Maedhros.] No, I have cousins both older and younger than me, but... yes. I am very fond of them. Even the ones that sneak into my kitchen to steal cookies.

[Now he has dwarves who do that instead. He can never escape it.]

Well then how about we make a deal? I'll be more mindful of my apologies in the future and you can work on not being so hard on yourself after arriving so soon here, hm?

[ the last earns another quiet, startled laugh. ]

You drive a hard bargain, Master Baggins. I am a Feanorian. I shall do my best, though.

[ he lapses into an amused silence for a few moments, but then, eventually: ] .. Will you tell me more about your Shire?

We can both try our best together.

[He hums thoughtfully.] Hm, the Shire? Ah... It's beautiful there. Peaceful, comfortable, simple beauty with rolling green hills in the spring and summer that go on quite some way. The earth is rich and plentiful, wonderful for farming and gardening of all sorts.

At night when the skies are clear of clouds I liked to sit atop my roof and watch the stars pass over me... I felt very small- well I've always felt small, 'tis natural for a hobbit you know, but looking up at those stars the world feels so much more grand and vast. My mother, she was very odd for a hobbit, but I suppose that's where I got it from - [Small chuckle] she traveled quite a bit before settling down. I always loved to hear her stories as a young fauntling about the world beyond the Shire. Why, I remember running off into the woods in search of elves and fairies, but at the end of the day I found more mud on my shirt and twigs in my hair than anything else.

[He sighs, lost in thought for a moment.] We hobbits are creatures of comfort. It is only sensible that our homes are as comfortable as we can possibly make them to be. It's actually considered quite scandalous to want anything a little more daring or exciting! Certainly anything like an adventure would ruin a hobbit's respectability completely. [And yet he doesn't sound at all perturbed by this, having come to terms with ruining his reputation among his neighbors the moment he ran out his front door.]

The offer does hold a certain amount of charm.

[ he's quiet as bilbo talks about his home, eyes closed, letting the words paint a picture for him. it sounds-- beautiful, and yes, peaceful. these hobbits seem like simple, decent folk.

the silence stretches out as bilbo's voice fades, and at last, maedhros sighs softly. ]

.. And yet, here you are. As sensible as hobbits must be, I feel as if you are an adaptable folk, as well. [ and then, gently: ] Truly, your Shire sounds lovely. I would have liked to see it. I will hope that you make it back there safely, once you are done with adventures.

Aha... [An amused huff.] I hope we can all return home safely soon, although as to how soon that may be I cannot know.

As foreign as this world may be there are some areas that are quite nice. Not as nice as my home, in my opinion, but nice enough! The Station is quite interesting too...

.. Indeed. [ he's admittedly a little torn at the thought. either way, there will be no rest for him. ]

I will take your word for it, then, Master Baggins-- as one with an eye for beauty. .. Though, what is this 'Station', then?

[:|]

[He starts to contest an eye for beauty, but stops himself with a quiet 'ah'.] It is a very large building that a few have chosen to reside in since it is neither of the two castles. All sort of magical and stranger items are there, like boxes with moving pictures and sounds or lamps that light without fire or oil. Even the kitchens are amazing- there's an oven that has no need for wood or fire and makes baking much less of a hassle sometimes.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

audio; forward-dated to post-feast

voice;

voice;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject