eachdraidh | Video | Open to both courts

[The locket first shows the broad wee face of a grinning fairy, who then vanishes to keep it propped up and pointed at a very relaxed, very drunk Sigrid. She is sitting at her little table with a glass and a bottle of sparkling rainbow champagne open before her, cheek resting on a hand spread out on the tabletop. She watches the bubbles in the glass. Another fairy sits atop the bottle and seems to be asking her questions from a list on a piece of paper.]

How old are you?

Fifteen, silly. Sixteen in exactly two months.

Next...what color is your hair?

[Sigrid pulls out a loose curl and goes crosseyed looking at it.]

Never been able to say. Sort of brown, sort of yellow. More yellow. What color would you say it is?

Ah... [The fairy casts aside an entire sheet of the questionnaire and skips ahead.] What do you look for in a romantic partner?

I don't look for them. I mean I suppose if I did he'd be kind and hardworking and want a big family, but I'm not the sort of girl boys like that way, and I haven't the time for it.

Ai! Not true! What about Jon Snow?

Does he? Ohhhhhh... [Sigrid lifts her head slightly, squinting at something off-camera.] I think he's just that nice to everybody, Mee.

That's stupid.

Sort of. And it's also part of what makes him so good. Like Sansa, and Lancelot. So very good no matter how awful things are.

I meant--! Ooh, well. Next! Are you in a romantic relationship?

Uhhhh, no.

Don't you want to be in one?

I don't know. Mee, why are you asking all these questions?

Between Jon Snow and Lancelot, who would you choose? To...share a dance with! [offscreen another tiny voice shrieks, "But they're the same person!"]

Both. Either. And I could protect them both.

At once? [A gigantic toothy grin from the fairy.]

I suppose. What would be wrong with that?

Hee. Heheheh. What would you like to do when you go courting?

I'm not courting. I don't even know what people do when they go courting. I thought it was a lot of hanging out of windows and dropping notes and things. Maybe kissing, if Da let me. I've never been kissed. I wonder how tongues get used when people kiss. I've only heard there are tongues and it sounds horrible. Like when Tilda used to lick me to get me to stop holding her still. Then it's supposed to get even worse, or so Amma said. She said it hurts every time and there's no doing anything about it. I wonder who thought of that first, say, 'let me put this in there and see what happens?'

Ahhhhh next question! What is your favorite color?

Red.

Season?

Summer. But--

Flower?

Mee, what's Yuu doing with my locket?

[The feed cuts off abruptly.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Not my mother, my grandmother. My mother died a long time ago.

Oh, I see. I have no grandmother. My parents were among the Awakened. My condolences nonetheless. It is a terrible thing for a child to be sundered from a parent.

[...She knows, doesn't she? Saying things like that. Everyone Sigrid has told about it has said it wasn't her fault. It would almost be nice to know someone does blame her, to validate her own guilt. But not Celegorm's mother. And not Maglor.]

I'm...sorry. About your son.

You mean Tyelkormo? ...thank you.

[It's a terrible idea, but she's drunk. She's drunk and culpable. Absolutely horrible idea, horrible and she knows she will regret it, but she feels like she needs to say it and this is the only time she's ever had the courage.]

I mean, I'm sorry. I'm the one who found out he was coming to Caer Glaem, and I told Clarisse. I didn't know she would kill him but I shouldn't have said anything to her. I haven't forgiven myself. I can't. It's my fault. And...I don't know what else to say.

[She's already regretting this. Being drunk sucks.]

[A long, slow sigh escapes the Elf.]

There were many factors far beyond any action you could have set in motion that led to his death. The Doom was marked upon him long before you had any knowledge of him. Do not allow the blame to weigh so heavy upon your shoulders. I am sure you did what you believed was good and right.

But if I hadn't told anyone, if I'd just kept it to myself and got the Silmaril and given it to him, there wouldn't've been a battle at all. If I'd just thought for a moment and been calm and sensible about it.

It would have found another way to betray him, child. Has anyone spoken to you of the Doom of the Noldor?

[Sort of. She has enough of an idea to know it makes Maglor feel he is very special.]

I don't really know what Noldor are. Are they the same as the Fin...noriath?

[...ohhhhh, Sigrid. There is so much to teach you about the Elves... But Nerdanel will try! ~~Oh gosh, I am sorry, she is bound to get into TL;DR over the next few exchanges.~~]

The Fëanorionnath are all Noldor, but they are hardly a complete representation of the Noldorin people. In fact, the Fëanorionnath number but seven. Only seven. For that title means "Sons of Fëanor," and therefore my sons as well, for he was my husband.

The Noldor were one of three tribes that banded together in the days when the Eldar were newly Awakened. A large host, indeed, from the tales my parents told me. Finwë, the father of Fëanor, was our High King, and led the Noldor host into the West at the behest of the Valar who loved us. Aulë in particular favored the Noldor, for we are a people deeply thirsting for knowledge and fine skill in all things, but especially in the making of things. And there was no greater inventor and craftsman than Fëanor himself, surpassing even my own father who taught him much.

You sound more like dwarves than like wood-elves. I sort of expected the opposite.

That is far from coincidence, child. My people, the Noldor, were the beloved companions of Aulë, he who created the Dwarves, for we share many of the traits he prizes and granted to them. Curiosity. Great skill. Love of beautiful things. A thirst to surpass that which has come before. I myself was one of his pupils, and it was his counsel that persuaded me to stand down from the Oath and not follow my husband and children into their Doom.

The Elves you speak of are those we call the Moriquendi. Elves of Darkness. They are Elves and their descendants who did not cross the seas in those early days and never saw the light of the Trees. Although they are our distant kin, they are a people very different than those of us who saw and were born in the Light.

[To Nerdanel, this Light stuff is all old news and history as it happened. To Sigrid, it sounds like the weird-ass notions of a crazed nationalistic zealot who wants to justify her visions of her peoples' superiority based on some mythical superpowered superiority-giving light.

Oooookay then.]

So...you get along with dwarves?

Edited 2014-10-31 01:14 (UTC)

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