Video

[twilightminstrel]

Who: Daeron
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Heron
When: Now!

[One of the newest passengers of the fleet jerks out of the bed he'd woken on and slams back against the cold steel. On second glance, ignoring the quiet gasps for breath, one can see delicately pointed ears peeking through silver hair, along with wide grey eyes before the elf- yes, another one- holds his breath, then slowly exhales a shaky breath as he forces some meager semblance of calm. He frowns, gaze falling to the red light blinking at him, and places a hand over the screen, effectively ending the transmission.

Not that it lasts long, as just as Daeron regains some sense of self and begins to absorb some of the new knowledge running through his head, he's transferred to another ship! He shakes his head slightly, hands clenching as he finds himself staring at a room- the bridge- with another screen watching him. Judging him. Pain and grief touch his gaze before flowing away like water.

He steels his nerve after casting a glance over his shoulder towards the stars, and stares back at the screen with feigned calm, brittle enough that even a breath could shatter it.]

A minstrel among the stars has a certain ring to it. Is it a reward or a punishment, to be separated from worlds of green and living water and air?

Comments

[twilightminstrel]

[At least he doesn't hiss, hearing Maglor's eldest brother's here?]

So the dead walk among the living once more.

[Daeron falls silent a moment, wary. And tries not to sound too curious or interested when he does ask another question.]

Where?

[bythewaves]

[ That's... a surprise, really but Maglor will take it ]

Aye. Time here is fluid. We are on the Huntress, and also there is a forge being built on the Iskaulit... there are gardens there also, and I... can tell them to avoid them, if it be easier?

[twilightminstrel]

[They are Exile.

...The lure of gardens tugs at his heart and Maglor can probably hear air drawn quickly in. And it's tempting to accept the offer.]

...I have not the right to deny any elf the joy of walking through a garden. Regardless of what was done in life.

[bythewaves]

Thank you. [ Such relief in his voice ]

Is... I have been here a while. Is there ought you would know?

[twilightminstrel]

[The relief and gratitude in that voice twists his gut, almost a physical pain. Then he releases it, a bitter old pain that he doesn't have the right to hold. Daeron debates with himself, silently, scarcely breathing. What to ask? Where to start?

What's around him doesn't matter quite enough compared to what comes to mind.]

I listened for news of your death, yet it never came. [Not even on the wind, which carries so much. He doesn't quite ask, does he have the right to?]

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor laughs softly, a sad, bitter sound ]

I... was too much a coward to follow my brother by water, and he forbade me to follow by fire. [ He admits ]

I tried war, but I... am too good at that.

[twilightminstrel]

You are. [They both know it's not praise.]

And so we both walk through life, unwilling, but too pathetic to change it. [A bitter, hard edge inches into Doriath's former minstrel's voice.]

[bythewaves]

Yes. [ They do.

But at least if he can avenge his family on their common enemy, he feels... a little better ]

You are not! [ A sharp, sudden, snap, before he restrains himself ]

Forgive me. But you are not, Loremaster, do not think yourself so.

[twilightminstrel]

[He flinches at the snap before gritting his teeth.]

I can forgive you no more than I forgive myself. I have not the right to think myself a loremaster in these late days.

[bythewaves]

You are the last Loremaster of Doriath.

[ Maglor points out softly. That is his fault, of course. Him and his brothers ]

You must, or there will be nothing left. And your sin is far less than ours.

[twilightminstrel]

[The offered kindness rests uneasily over him, and he shies away, eyes squeezing shut.]

Not to me, Feanorion. In my eyes, what I did and failed to do is equal to your own.

[They are their own worst critics.

...But stubborn will, and the remnants of loyalty to Thingol, and to Luthien, tear quiet words out of him.]

...But I will not let Doriath's memory die.

[bythewaves]

You never slew them, Daeron. [ Maglor says gently ]

Do not take that on your hands.

[ He nods and offers softly ] I ... always regretted not being able to teach the Earendillion more of Doriath. They were Thingol's heirs too but... we had many Silvan but no Sindar in our number.

[twilightminstrel]

It matters not.

[A soft scoff and rustle as he turns a glare to cold, sightless machinery. He doesn't need to see Maglor to see him when he speaks so gently.]

I heard you had them. I even could guess where. I could have gone and taught them myself, and did not do so. [But he hadn't, because that would've meant dealing with Maglor in person. Someone he'd felt should have been a friend- had been a friend.]

[bythewaves]

I would have been very surprised if you had come.

[ They both know why ]

I only wish... well. We did the best we could. I ... like to think we did not do too badly, all things considered.

[twilightminstrel]

[There's nothing to say to that. Words that slipped so easily through lips once, caught in his throat before dying.


Silence stretches before an almost reluctant, defeated, tired breath is let out.]

You did not. The wind and trees and waters told me that much. I came at the last to watch the ship sail away.

[bythewaves]

You... ?

[ Maglor blinks, startled, immediately casting his mind back to that day. He'd been watching the shore... surely he would have... no, but he wasn't paying attention, was he. ]

I did not know you were there.

[twilightminstrel]

[They'd both been focused on the ship, rather than searching for other watchers.]

You did not know to look for me. I...kept my distance.

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor sighs softly ]

I suppose we were both there for the same reason. [ He murmurs ]

You could go, you know. There will be more ships after that one. You do not have to remain.

[twilightminstrel]

...Not for me. [He doesn't sound too bothered, or so he tells himself. Sailing to Valinor is not his place.] And I am no Noldo, Maglor. I do not feel the same pull to sail.

[bythewaves]

[ A small shrug ]

I suppose for the Sindar the Wood still calls louder. [ He acknowledges ] But I think Cirdan would take you, if you wished to go. There are forests on the other side, you know. And Elwe... Elu will be reborn one day, if he is not already.

[twilightminstrel]

So you say. [He says, mildly.]

I failed my king. I do not have the right to wait for his return. If he calls for me...I will answer. But no sooner.

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor snorts softly at that ]

We are a right pair. [ He murmurs softly ] You know as well as I that Thingol has no way of reaching this side of the Sea. Since Glorfindel and the Istari, there have been none to return to Middle-earth - the only way for you to know is to Sail.

[twilightminstrel]

Do you not listen to the news the eagles bring? If my lord king wishes my attendance, he will find a way. [Even after all this time, he still believes in his king completely.

...But he can't deny he and Maglor are alike in this, as in certain other ways.]

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor looks very doubtful at that but he does not query the point - if Daeron thinks Thingol can convince an eagle that's his business ]

Do you need anything here? As I said, for me it...has been some time.

[twilightminstrel]

[So many doubts hang over them both. But this is one that Daeron's held close for too long to just let go, that if Thingol really wanted him somewhere he'd find a way to tell him.

He lets out a quiet breath.]

I have only just arrived. I hardly know what I need or not.