driftfleet | Video/Action

Entry tags:

fingon

Video/Action

Who: Maglor and you!
Broadcast: Public broadcast from the Huntress
Action: in his room in the HUntress, which he is still slooooowly trying to soundproof and failing
When: forward dated to the next shuffle

Action aboard the Huntress

[ Finrod is gone. Maglor brushes a hand across the Nauglamír, seeing without seeing where one day the Silmaril will sit (he is so glad that it is not there - the necklace looks better without that cursed gem anyway). It is a dwarvish design, and the artist in him appreciates the differences from his own work in the past, the solid, geometric shapes beautiful in their difference.

It is better this way. His brave cousin will doubtless walk again with his father in Valinor, released from the Halls. Better that he is far away from here, and safe.

Rising, he goes to his harp and tunes it to the old mode, and he begins with the very first song that Finrod ever wrote, and works his way through from there, the simple tunes of childhood right through to the great songs of later years, the silly and the sublime. He'll play until someone stops him, and eventually, inevitably, he'll raise his voice in Song ]

Public Broadcast

[ Maglor Sings, and any who listen can See, the golden prince who was loved by all, wise and kind and brilliant as the summer. The King on his throne, in a castle hewn from stone beneath a mountain, a testament to the beauty that the collaboration between species could create. The loyal friend, forswearing his crown for an Oath made to his truest mortal friend. The hero, who killed a werewolf with his bare hands and saved his friends life.

Maglor sings Finrod, as he knew him in life, the young cousin and the dear friend, as well as the hero whose name is exalted still in Dwarven Halls as well as Elven ones, who Men called the Wise, and all folk named Friend ]

Thus Felagund in Nargothrond
still reigned, a hidden king whose bond
was sworn to Barahir the bold.
And now his son through forests cold (130)
wandered alone as in a dream.
Esgalduin's dark and shrouded stream
he followed, 'till its waters frore
were joined to Sirion, Sirion hoar,
pale silver water wide and free
rolling in splendour to the sea.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[As for Beverly, her eyes are welling up with tears as she listens to the end of his song. She had thought she had gone and cried herself out already, but apparently not. The hope that Finrod's gone on to another life, a better one is comforting, and something she's willing to believe in, at least right now.]

That was beautiful.

[ He tips his head in a quiet bow ]

Thank you for saying so. Dearon of Doriath wrote the original, and it has taken some time before I felt the translation good enough.

[She nods, feeling like she should comment on that in some way but nothing sounds right in her head. So instead, she moves to close the gap between them and to embrace him, resting her cheek against his chest.]

[ Sometimes, words are not enough, but actions speak clearly, and Maglor reaches up to pull her close, their shared grief echoing in the empty space where Finrod once was ]

He is happy now. [ He whispers into her hair ]

[How can you be so sure? She wants to ask, but doesn't. He is certain and that's all that matters right now. She clings to him for a moment longer before taking a step back to take his face in her hands. His expression is blurred by her tears.]

Still, I am sorry, that you've lost him a second time.

[ Maglor's eyes are dry, but they churn, an unquiet sea, and he leans into her hands, lifting his own to hold hers ]

Thank you. And I am sorry that you must lose him at all.

[Her next words come out barely above a whisper, pleading and grief-stricken.]

What am I going to do without him?

[ He folds her into his arms, trying to comfort ]

I don't know. [ He says softly ]

But whatever help I can give is yours.

[She buries himself gratefully into his embrace.]

I knew... I knew this could happen. It's happened so many times before. But...

[But she still feels like the rug has been pulled out from under her. He was her rock and for him to just be gone with no chance to say goodbye, it hurts. So for a long while, she simply gives herself over to crying.]

But it hurts, all the same. [ He finishes for her, all the weight of all the farewells his life has endured in his voice ] To know they go where you cannot follow, and you will never have the comfort of their presence again.

[ He cradles her and sings comfort for her, the comfort he denies himself, and another scar opens on a soul already so worn (but he is his father's son, and the flame burns still) ]

[It feels like no matter where she is, no matter how hard she tries to hold onto those she loves, she always loses them in the end, one way or another. She can't even begin to imagine those losses increasing tenfold, over thousands of years, as they have for Maglor.

She holds him just a little tighter.

Eventually, the crying subsides, though it's hard to tell at first, quiet as it is. Reluctant to let go just yet, she pulls away enough to look at his face again. There's an attempt at a small smile.]

You know, he told me once I shouldn't cry for him.

[ Tears unnumbered shall ye shed, whispers the voice of memory, both warning and plea, and Maglor might laugh, for truly was it spoken.

He holds her until the storm passes, and carefully tucks the memory of his bright cousin back into the boxes where he keeps them, preserving the memories in the vast storehouses of his life ]

He would. [ He says softly, fondly ] He told Beren the same, you know. He was always one to think of others before himself.

Maybe sometimes too much. But I love him for it all the same.

The Golden House of Arafinwe - that was what they used to call them, you know. The four princes and their fiesty sister! But Finrod outshone them all, for he had such a great heart. Only Galadriel did better, but she had the advantage of time.

[She smiles, soft and sad.]

Would you tell me more about him, what else you remember growing up?

Of course.

[ He manages a smile back ]

What sort of tales do you want? [ A sly twinkle peeps out ] After all, he cannot stop me embarassing him, now!

[A sad little chuckle escapes her.]

Something happy.

[ Maglor's smile is sweet and his eyes are faraway, walking in memory ]

When we were young there were three of us who excelled at the harp - myself, Finrod, and Fingon. We used to play together as a trio, and we could stop the entire marketplace to listen, when we got going. Finrod's particular gift was to take a serious topic and make it dance. He found the joy in everything.

He always did. But I didn't know he played... I wish had gotten the chance to hear him. [She smiles softly.] He was an excellent dancer though.

[ He chuckles softly ] He should be, considering! He was always a favourite at the balls. But tis a pity you never heard him! He had a brilliant touch, a light, evocative sound to his music. We all three of us complemented each other very well.

Did you ever play together here?

No. [ Maglor sighs softly ] I regret that, now. We thought we would have time... and he had no harp, here.

[Beverly takes his hand in hers and squeezes gently.]

Still, I know he was happy to have you here.

[ Maglor squeezes back ]

I think he liked it here - it was good for him, I think.

Me too. At least I hope he did.

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Re: Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action