driftfleet | (Video: Open)

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(Video: Open)

Who: Maedhros & YOU
Broadcast: Fleet-Wide.
Action: Open to HS Bishop/whoever comes to visit?
When: Evening.

(Frustration is bound to get the better of Maedhros. He does not come from a patient family and the ships offer new obstacles to someone who is missing a hand. Currently, his hair is damp, his pale, freckled skin rosy from a fresh wash.)

Orro, none of this was made for one my size! (He tugs on a shirt that is not exactly the right length. It reveals part of his nearly-emaciated abdomen.)

Does anyone have suggestions? I can barely care for myself in these confines. (And that is...aggravating. Very much so.)

Atar? Toron? Cousin? (This is him waving the white flag for day to day tasks. Either he is going to cut his hair or have to (embarrassingly) ask someone to help him braid it.)

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(He starts at the sound of a female voice, not expecting it.)

...ah that's a good idea. I think my measurements will give them a challenge.

[Oops.]

Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.

(It has been a long time since he has been around the fairer sex, Syeira.)

No, it was my fault. You are kind to answer.

[You're about 100x fairer than she is Maedhros. Probably more than 100x.]

Let's call it no fault then, since we both feel the need to claim it. And I'm glad to help. I'd have offered to help more directly, but the only sewing I'm good at is mending.

(Not with all his scars and missing parts. Once, he would have been stunning. Now he's more...scary.)

And I would ask you if you knew how to braid hair, but Elves are...particular...about such matters.

(His features soften.)

I may need mending if I regain the body I had once. (Certain shirts will be far too small.)

[What was that? Sorry, she can't hear the misplaced self-loathing over his ridiculously handsome face. Scars just add character.]

Maybe it's good then, because I don't know how to do anything with hair except wash and brush it.

[She ruffles her own hair for emphasis and levity. It remains wildly curly.]

But if you need anything I can do, I'm happy to assist, always.

[She very much wants to ask what he means by the whole "body I once had" statement, but she's intuitive enough to sense it's probably a sensitive subject.]

(Well then he is just brimming with character thanks to Morgoth and battle after battle.)

I fear even those tasks are cumbersome.

(He tilts his head, admiring her hair.)

Your hair reminds me of a red jewel. I pray you care for it; such a hue is uncommon amongst the Elves of Arda.

(His hand passes over his much thinner stomach, perhaps giving her a clue.)

Do you know where I might find a tailor?

Oh, thanks. It's not exactly common for people back home either.

[Red hair exists, but sunlight often turns them coppery. But Sye's never has faded. She could make an educated guess on which side of her lineage she could thank for that.]

I do know where a tailor is. I've spent most all of the local coin I've earned there. I could show you, if you like.

[It's not that she doesn't notice things like his thinness or the scars. It's that she recognizes the look in his eyes that speaks of deeper wounds. It's why she doesn't ask, and won't until such time as it seems acceptable.]

I would think not. (He perks at her offer and nods.) After I find help for my hair, I will gladly take you up on your offer.

(Despite his rather gruesome appearance - by Elvish standards - he doesn't like to be messy.)

Shall I meet you on the planet?

[Her meta text sighs at yours, Maedhros. Sighs heavily.]

That sounds like a plan. I'll await you at the main road entrance.

(Once he is comfortable with his appearance, he exits the ship and makes his way to the main road on the planet. He is very hard to miss as he tips his head back to look at the sky.)

[He's hard to miss being exceptionally tall and strikingly lovely. She could probably pick him out of any crowd, since he'd tower over most.

She approaches him, looking up to see what he's seeing.]

It's very blue. It's easy to forget the color being stuck in all that darkness for tendays at a time.

(He senses her before she speaks, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes.)

I love the stars, but seeing them day in and day out makes me forget the blue of a light sky.

(Maedhros focuses fully on her with a small smile.)

I never imagined myself in the realm of the Valar.

[He'll have to glance pretty far down. She's so much shorter than he is, just barely five and a half feet. So her head has to tilt pretty far back to meet his glance from up close.]

Ah, the Valar. I should warn you, Finrod had told me a few stories of them, but my opinion of them is rather low. I was often told as a child that if I couldn't say something nice, best not to say anything at all. So unless you'd like to hear me rant about the hypocrisy and injustice of gods, perhaps we should stick to the topic of the blue of the sky.

[Her tone is wry, but gently so.]

(All the more reason he will protect her should danger befall them. He knows her life has not been easy - Maglor hadn't shared details, but he didn't need to. Maedhros trusts his brother's judgement.)

I have earned their wrath and then some. I do not think your opinion will curse me further.

(In other words, rant away.)

[If danger were to befall them, he'd need to get in line to be the defender. As it is, her proverbial feathers ruffle, on his behalf, at his mention of being cursed by his gods.]

Let's keep it for a more appropriate time. I'll only say that there's no worse creature in all the planes than a god, who claims to be Good, that does nothing while people suffer.

[She shakes that of mentality, if not so much physically. She gives him a smile, warm as the sunshine overhead.[]

Come, let's get you some clothes that fit.

(He will not prevent her from fighting, but he does have her back.)

What time is more appropriate? (Are they in some sacred place? He looks around quizzically.) The Valar intervene when there is suffering. Not as often as one might like, but their reasoning is not for us to know.

(Maedhros chuckles.)

I think I would be less of an embarrassment to us both that way.

No offense, but that is horse shit. Gods have an obligation to those that offer up faith to them.

[She's vehement and heated, but not at him. It's very pointedly directed at gods, in general.

Of course, that changes abruptly at his self-depricating joke; low, smoldering anger shifting to concern and sincerity.]

You aren't embarrassing me in the slightest, Maitimo.

The Darkness hides us from their gaze at times. It would be another matter if they were all on the same page.

(But Morgoth and Sauron complicated things. He wonders what has made her feel so passionately about such things.)

... (However her reassurance distracts him utterly and he feels his cheeks grow warm.) You are too kind, I think, but I appreciate it.

I am not.

[Well, she is extremely kind, but she wouldn't see it that way.]

I know only the outline of your story, but I can see, in your eyes, there are dark details in the depths of it. I won't ask you to confide in me now, as I know we are nearly strangers yet. But allow me to tell you the truth of what I can perceive. You are strong, kind, and loving. No scar, or ill fit cloth, or wild tangle of hair can diminish your qualities. You're beautiful, without and within, and I'm honored to walk beside you.

(The warmth spreads across his cheeks to his ears. His skin is very nearly the same hue as his hair and he has no way to hide it in the broad daylight.)

You forget one quality: I am mad too. (A shadow passes across his features; a sign that the Darkness has touched him deep within.) I will do my utmost to never harm a hair on your head or anyone else's head, however should the madness waken, my brother and I are prey to it. We do not want to be -

But it is the truth.

Then should it arise, I'll help you -both of you- find your way back. I am actually certified, by judgmental spirits who put me through very rigorous tests of sanity. Most of which should have killed me.

[It might sound like she's joking, but look at her face. This is completely true.]

You know, in the end I don't think they even knew if I passed. I think they were just dumbfounded that anyone could because half the tests were utterly paradoxical, and yet here I am; possibly sane, potentially crazy.

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