Forgotten harper, singer doomed. (gold_cleaver) wrote in untold_logs, @ 2008-06-15 15:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | aragorn, caranthir, celeborn, feanor, galadriel, gladharil, ithiriel, maglor |
witch-fight n' more!
Who: Maglor, a fire-witch, Feanor, Caranthir, Gladharil, Galadriel, Ithiriel, Aragorn, Celeborn, Boromir/Miriel (for just a blip, each), a lembas-addicted horse, and a self-destructive bridge.
What: The witch is found just outside of Pelargir, actually! So this all takes place within about nearly 3 days time, travel time condensed for your reading pleasure. Obviously Feanorians = not v. talky during fighting, but prefer to get down to the messy business and be done with it. Swords are brought back. Then, there's a itsy bitsy mini-debate over what to do with the swords, resulting in...hammers slipping. A horse stares...helpfully. Galadriel gets healy AND pissy.
status: mega-log, now complete!
Woman: *pulls hood up over her head, and mounts the horse she'd..acquired**starts riding out of Pelargir, reaching the road, and turning south*
Maglor: *rides into Pelargir, with the hood of his cloak still up over his head, and is finishing off one of the lembas, heads for the docks and bridge across the river, intent on crossing and heading to the south...and thus keeping lookout for woman carrying two very impressive elven swords*
Maglor: *licks some jam off his thumb, since...well...lembas without jam can get boring*
Maglor: *dismounts at the dock and then looks for one of the shipmen to start asking questions, spies one! nearly points! stops self when he remembered father and brother aren't there, and there's no reason to point, and isn't sure if mortals think that's rude or not* *walks over and ahems*
ahem: *is a nice soft ahem of questioning, not the rude PAY ATTENTION TO ME sort*
Woman: *has 7 very impressive swords in sheathes along both sides of her horse >.> A man tried to steal one. He's missing a..well, face, now.**melted clear off**deserved it, totally**pulls out some trail mix to munch on**figures she'll hawk the horse farther south for a camel to make the journey to Umbar. Not going by sea, nuh uh.*
Sailor: The fuck? What do yer want, yer blime---*stares up up up at the tall elf* kind, wonderful, benevolent elf?
Maglor: *sighs* My ears are causing the hood to stick out, aren't they. -_- *NOW mourns loss of his hair*
Sailor: ...an' yer tall as fuck? An yer eyebrows do this..thing. *demonstrates with his own*
Maglor: Yes, I am well aware that I am tall as.....my eyebrows do what thing? *forget that, back on track* ...I am looking for a foreign woman. She would have...at least two swords of elvish make, with her.
Maglor: Did she leave here by ship, heading to the south...or at the very least...have you seen her?
Sailor: Foriegn woman? We're a bleedin' port town 'course we get foreign women 'round these parts! There's this amazin' whore down on Perch street. Easterlin' she is, gots tits out to here. *demonstrates* An' gives yer a ride yer can't forget..*blinks* Oh, yer wantin' traders maybe? Elf swords..there was one woman, in town for a few days waitin' on a horse t'be shoed. M'brother said she melted a man's face clean off for tryin' to steal her swords! Had seven o'them.
Maglor: ...... *stared at the man's hands as he showed just how big the whore's wares were, then blinked and eyes widened as he listened to that* A horse shoed, did you say? *thinks, which means she's riding to the south* Thank you. What is the fastest means to reach a caravan route?
Maglor: *looks around, sees...bridge, has a 'I'd facepalm but it doesn't seem a very elvish thing to do'* *just...points at it?*
Sailor: *points at a dangerous, rickety 'bridge' supported by half-destroyed pillars over the Anduin* Aye.
Sailor: Still waitin' on t'lord t'release the funds t'rebuild it. Goin' to be fancy 'e says.
Sailor: Movable or somethin', so bigger ships can' sail up the river.
Sailor: Bah.
Maglor: I am certain I will see it, when it is completed. Even if it is...fifty years from now. *hands him a coin for being so helpful* *then eyes the bridge and sighs, mounts up on the horse again, heads for the bridge*
Sailor: *grins, tests the coin and nods approvingly* Watch out fer the holes!
Maglor: o.O @ that* *reaches the bridge and staaaaaares ahead at it, sees...holes*
Maglor: *tells the horse that it had best be sure-footed, then starts across!*
horse: *hates this bridge*
Bridge: *WOBBLES*
Maglor: *looks outwardly like the perfect picture of calm, but inside? is like PANIC*
Horse: *ditto*
Maglor: *guides the horse by the reins around a particularly big hole*
Bridge: *shake rattle**wobble**pieces fall off*
Maglor: .... *IGNORING THAT*
sign: *indicates bridge is unsafe and due to be replaced with a better temp bridge 'soon'*
Maglor: *still sitting atop horse, eyes the sign, glaaaaaares at it* Soon is not soon enough, it seems. *continues on!*
horse: *could. not. agree. MORE.*
Maglor: *holds breath as more parts of the bridge's holes go crumbly behind him*
Bridge: *WOBBLES DANGEROUSLY*
horse: *would have knocking knees if it could right now, seriously, but is one of those snooty horses who was ridden by elves and thus can not STOOP down to the LEVEL of COWERING that most would at a time like this*
Maglor: *would close his eyes and pray, but knows neither would do any good right now*
Other side: *so close, yet so far away!*
Maglor: *almost thinks it would be better to walk it and lead the horse, but doesn't know if that would even matter, its going to crumble at some point...and that point seems sooner rather than later* *mutters in quenya about mortals not taking the proper long-term care of their things*
horse: *still proceeding with caution!*
Bridge: *bucks a bit as a gust of wind hits it*
Maglor: *thinks that wind was rather UNNECCESSARY!* *UNNECESSARY WIND, NO THANK YOU!*
Wind: *getting stronger!*
Maglor: *trying not to rush* *might have suggested to the horse in sindarin, though, that it tread 'carefully' but with a bit more 'haste'*
horse: *tries that, yes*
horse: *wants off bridge now, is avoiding holes, crumbly bits, and trying not to bolt*
Bridge: *seems to move two feet to the west, then back again, as though a hand had picked it up and dropped it.**rattles!*
Maglor: *waiting? waiting is for sissies.* *validates hasty crossing of bridge with that father-quote* *lets the horse bolt the rest of the way and narrowly dodges some of the remaining holes, before that bridge decides to move and not stop moving until it goes crash*
Bridge: *settles down after he crosses**Settles....settles**COLLAPSES*
Maglor: *turns the horse around and watches it crash down* *sighs like phew!*
horse: *wants to keep right on bolting awaaaaaaay from that bridge, y0*
horse: *at least is safely on other side of the river now* *would shake a hoof at it* *take THAT, bridge*
horse: *I am a winna!*
Woman: *hears bridge collapse and nearly loses control of horse as it starts to gallop away from ze scary noise and scary bridge!**thinks that was close, she'd just crossed it a few minutes ago!*
Maglor: *turns the horse around and swears he sees...is that a person riding a horse up ahead?* *hm, will just ask them where they think they're going then* *urges horse into a run to catch up!*
Woman: *hears someone approach, brings her horse to a stop!*
Maglor: *catches up finally and then counts...not one sword...not two swords....* *eyes narrow and he slows the horse down* *...oh yes, apparently seven swords of elvish make, and a woman sitting on a horse* *GLARES*
horse: *glares at her horse!*
Woman: *suddenly grows tense* Can I help you?
Maglor: *calmly asks in near-perfect westron* Yes. I was looking to buy a pair of swords. But seeing as how you have so many of them, I think that I would like to buy them all. *is no longer glaring, in fact looks the perfect little picture of elven aloofness now*
Maglor: *glances over them, knows them each by the style of the hilts, then looks steadily back at her, waiting*
Woman: Unfortunately these swords are not for sail. They are family heirlooms I am taking to Umbar.
Maglor: Unfortunately for you...they much look like stolen heirlooms, if I am not mistaken. *pulls the hood back with one hand* You are not taking them to Umbar.
Woman: *bolts, kicking her horse into high speed the moment her hunch was confirmed*
Maglor: *bolts right after her, will ride right on her ass all the way to Umbar now, if he has to, or until one of their horses (hers is by far the most likely) collapses from exhaustion*
elf!horse: *is faster and snootier <3*
Woman: *starts to chant, and the wind grows hot like the desert sand*
witch!horse: *is a rent-a-mare basically*
Maglor: *damn damn damn, no time for a chase then! draws out one of his knives, urges the horse to catch up more, then throws the knife at her back >.<*
Maglor: *has to shut the witch up SOMEHOW >.<*
knife: *much like owner's aim with an arrow, will hit SOMETHING but its going to be the messiest shot ever*
Woman: *screams when knife buries itself into her shoulder, and a blast of fire goes clear over Maglor's head, but close enough to feel, and maybe singe some hair*
hair: *a couple messy tufts get the very tips singed off, thus causing elf hair belongs to, to curse a bit*
Maglor: *urges horse on to catch up enough to grab hold of the knife and...well...was going to yank it out again, or pull her off the horse, but is now feeling vindictive and a wee bit noldo!pissed off, so...gives it a bit of a twiiiiiiiist*
Woman: *screams again, lashes out with a heavy club and then? Both woman and horse go down!*
Maglor: *got thunked with club on his arm, made a half-ouch/half-sneer face, then goes o.O when the witch and the horse go down?*
Maglor: *pulls on the reins a little to slow the horse and turn it about*
Maglor: *didn't get knife out of her shoulder either* *damn*
Witch: *stands**horse and everything in a three foot radius bursts into flame around her, swirling around like a tornado*
Witch: *is now a very naked and pissed off witch*
Maglor: *dismounts and casts off his cloak as being a hindrance around flames of that sort, makes his way toward her and draws out both the other knife, and the sword*
Plants: *freeze around him, ground has frost on it where he walks*
Maglor: *only barely takes note of that, since is watching the witch very keenly, as he makes his way to the edge of the fire*
Fire: *rises up and surges down towards him!*
Maglor: *well, has little choice now, can't reach her unless he can get past the fire, so holds out the sword to ward off the fire, and hopeshopeshopes that it does something*
Maglor: *otherwise, is about to be a charbroiled elf*
Fire: *freezes, shooting past him like razor icicles, then igniting once they hit the ground*
Frost: *Surrounds him totally, covering his skin like armor*
Maglor: *is thinking that Feanor? has totally and completely outdone himself* ... *looks at her* *smiles?*
Witch: *skin is starting to burn and crack, hair is now flowing flame**charges at him, swinging, well, a fire lance and trying to impale him on it**if parried? Will leap up on the scorching hot air currents and try to strike him from above or behind!*
Maglor: *ok, that might be a problem, sidesteps WHILE parrying, and tries to bring the knife in his left hand up in a crosscut afterward, is NOT staying still, thinks that's rather...unwise*
Fire: *flickers, as though the extreme cold given off by Maglor is weakening it*
Witch: *tries going in low, sweeping with the 'lance' while sending a blast of flame high so he can't leap up*
Maglor: *was trying to circle behind her, is figuring he's going to get burned at some point, and is trying to ignore that* *and then basically is forced to all but put the tip of the sword into the ground before that 'lance' burns his little elven legs off*
Maglor: *curses under his breath >.<* *thinks one almost needs to BE a witch or someone like Artanis (or even a Maia), to beat a witch*
Maglor: *IS an elf, but is a BARD and POET, and hasn't been cut out for this sort of thing for a v. v. v. long time, and is starting to think that too, damndamndamn*
Ground: *turns to ice*
Maglor: *if not for sword? would have elven butt handed back to him by now*
Anduin: *freezes*
Witch: *slips and falls**Screams as ice starts to form on her body, and icicles shoot out of the ground**manages to stand**sword? Is threat**tries to disarm him with a fire whip!*
Maglor: *DUCKS FIRE WHIP! DUCKS FIRE WHIP!*
Fire whip: *twists around as witch tries to wrap it around his sword arm!*
horse: *looks on from distance, while chewing grass that isn't toasted*
grass: *freezes*
horse: *looks on from distance, while chewing grass that is now like grassciclepops*
Bunny: *frozen in mid hopping-the-fuck-away-from-fire*
horse: *is not frozen, no, is on very edge of frozenness, backs up, grazes and watches*
Maglor: *is shamed to admit, that whip made of fire is around sword-arm, and huuuuuuurts*
Witch: *PULLS!**Cackles!*
Maglor: *tries to think past pain and wonders if it can be...cut....or...disconnected somehow, so turns as much as he can and swipes the elven knife at the fire-whip in the hopes that it will let go >.<*
Witch: *screams, and there's a spurt of blood as she slips on the ice again**fire whip? was apparently attached to her, and now she's missing an arm!*
Witch: *screams a lot, apparently*
Maglor: *would shake out his arm, but there's no time, ruuuuuuun!sliiiiiiiiiides toward her, intent on killing!*
Maglor: *has death-grip on sword so he doesn't drop it*
Witch: *melts the ice around them, glaring at him**isn't so much on fire right now but burning scalding hot, skin all cracked as though she was burning herself alive to keep that up at that level**tries to bring up another fire weapon, but?*
Witch: *run through, and...?**entire area explodes in a mixture of frost and heat**Both elements war with each other, and the Anduin unfreezes and freezes again several times before finally thawing**If Maglor is lucky he still has hair**Witch? Just a pile of ash*
Maglor: *is lucky, still has hair -_-*
Maglor: *clothes and skin underneath, though? ouch*
Clothing: *probably incinerated, leaving a very handsome and nicely endowed naked elf? Maybe? Fangirls are praying?*
Skin: *soaked, as ice armor melted!*
Maglor: *hangs head* *shirtless elf, perhaps, come now, has been basically burned and steam-cleaned*
Non-enchanted dagger: *Roxxors and totally saved his butt, booyah*
Air: *freezing, but starting to warm up*
Maglor: *back bore brunt of fire raining down, also, and knows he can NOT get salve back there, but it hurts no where near as much as his arm does* *pulls out the sword with a hiss of pain, then backs up onto the bank of the river and sits down, finally looks at his arm*
Maglor: *makes a 'eww' face*
Maglor: *makes himself stand up, walks slowly back to where the woman's horse once was before she incinerated most of that area, and looks for the swords*
Maglor: *FINE, said 'ouch ouch ouch' a lot, also*
Maglor: *knows it will heal, but that doesn't make the ouch part of it any better*
Swords: *look very very hot to the touch, and scabbards they were in are completely gone, but appear to have weathered the heat! Appears to be another slag of metal with them, indicating that only Feanor's craftsmanship helped them survive*
Maglor: *well, is burned already, sheaths the sword and the knife, waits another few minutes, then bundles them together as best he can, and makes a run for the river and drops them in, so that they land with a hiss into the water* *is thinking that will cool them off the rest of the way, but is also sticking HIS hands and arm into the water too*
Maglor: *said 'ouch ouch ouch' the entire way he ran to the river, also*
Water: *best thing ever*
horse: *still chewin' on some grass, just watchin'*
Maglor: *sighs like 'aaaaaah, water gooooood'*
Swords: *nice and cool now <3*
Ash: *blows away in the wind*
Maglor: *still hurty, though, grabs the swords, picks them up, and heads back to the horse, and is utterly ignoring the ash, too* *ties the swords together with a piece of rope, then secures them for the ride back, grabs his cloak and clasps it so at least he's covered, then...* ......merciful valar, how am I to get back across the river?!
horse: *if it could? it would shrug at him*
Maglor: *moans and groans in mild complainy mode, while taking out the salve and bandages, and fixing up his arm*
Ice: *still lingers on the blade of the sword**glitters 'hint hint'*
Maglor: *well sheathed it, but...can feel that its cold...and...eyedarts*
Maglor: *mounts the horse and rides back to where the bridge once was, figures it wouldn't be nice to muddle up the river traffic there, so rides further north along the river, until he's passed Pelargir, then dismounts*
Maglor: *walks over to the river, leading the horse by the reins, draws out the sword and touches the point of it so its barely touching the water at the river's edge*
River: *freezes, but only a path about ten feet wide, straight to the other side, as if the sword understood his intention.*
Maglor: ... *thinks that's rather...convenient* *leads the horse across, keeping the sword out like that, and slowly enough that they're both being careful enough not to slip and fall*
ice: *v. v. slippery*
horse: *nearly looses its footing a bunch of times o.O*
Maglor: *nearly does too x_X*
Ice: *also melts behind them as they walk!*
Maglor: *keeps moving until he can finally lead the horse up onto the other bank, then turns and sheaths the sword, watching it melt away into the water*
Air: *warm again*
Maglor: *is thinking he might actually factually need a ten minute nap after this*
sword: *seems..content*
Maglor: *salve helps, though? and...admittedly, really likes the sword even if he is rusty at battle, but thinks...maybe its better to have it since he IS rusty at battle* *anyway, salve is numbing pain a bit, back and shoulders, however, still have some ouch burnies but wants to get back to city as soon as possible >.<* *rummages through he bags, takes out some lembas, eats part of it and feeds the other bit to the horse, mounts up and rideriderides*
horse: *addicted to lembas, shuttup*
Pelegarians: *will be talking about the 'Great Freezing' for centuries*
Maglor: *will feign ignorance, hopefully will have grown hair back out by time he ever has to go there again >.>*
Maglor: *lets horse run at will, and is NOT going 'ouch ouch ouch' the entire way* ... *only HALF the way, and it'll be the last half, so...there. >.>*
---about a day-and-a-half-later (give or take)---
Minas Tirith: *comes into view!*
Maglor: *if not for the ouch, would be grateful?*
horse: *has been fed a bit o' lembas, so is only happily running along like a horse on crack*
Maglor: *did.that.on.purpose.*
Feanor: *is back at the forge, tinkering with a sword design for his new daughter*
Maglor & crack!horse: *ride through main gate of city, rider is a slightly toasty looking elf*
Feanor: *has CRAMPS* *and sniffles* *and does NOT really want to be doing this right now, besides being worried about son*
Maglor: *is NOT toasty (is), and did not end up BALD (singed), either* *indignant, just a wee bit* *has slightly crunchy bubbly skin in places, which is certain to heal -_-*
Maglor: *gets the horse to slow down after some coaxing, and hunches over while riding toward the inn, is just now riding past the forge, since doesn't know father's in there*
horse: *is bearing rider AND a bundle of seven swords*
Maglor: *has very bandaged arm tucked under cloak* *sighs* *thinks hair smells a little...scorched*
Maglor: *ah, yes, was riding past forge on the way to the inn his father and brother are staying at...mother and sister....* *sighs like life sucks sometimes*
Feanor: *mutters about bleeding and female bodies while hammering on a very light blade design*
Maglor: *hears the mutter-hammering, glanced over, then saw little easterling female father type thing, hammering away* *turns the horse and rides toward the doors of the forge, then stops the horse and waits for a moment*
Feanor: *has eyes on blade, so is not likely to notice him standing there* *or... sitting there, on the horse he rode in on, or... whatever, point is, busy hammering*
Maglor: *thinks about the swords, kind of comes to a decision, picks a scrap of what's left of his scorched off tunic from his chest, and flicks it aside* *says in a surprisingly clear voiced quenya despite the residual ouch factor playing into things* ...I have seven swords that may need to be tended to.
Maglor: *dismounts the horse, and unties the bundle, then hugs them to himself, with his unburned arm*
Feanor: *blinks up at him!* ..... You surviv ... of course you ... Son! *drops hammer* *nearly on her FOOT* *runs over to him*
Maglor: *blinked at the hammer dropping, then gives him a wearly little grin and nods, holding out the bundle so he can see, that it is indeed, their swords*
Feanor: *looks over each and every blade, then nods and pays more attention to him* .... My sword did not help you against the fire?
Swords: *took a lot of heat themselves >.>*
Heat: *that lesser swords melted from <3*
Maglor: ...it did, actually. It was an immense help. But she was...that witch was, very powerful. Any trying to face her with any old sword, or knife, even for the ones you gave me saved me from being disarmed....well...they would have perished, quickly. *says as though it explains it* She burned the horse she was riding on...and when I stabbed the sword into her, she burned away as well.
Feanor: *nods her head, looking ... worried, and just doesn't care if she shows it right now* ..... Good work. ... You should see your elf. Get yourself taken care of.
Maglor: ...umm....
Maglor: *eyes the swords* I only meant for you to see them, I did not mean for you to keep them. >.> *this? is probably going to cause a fight*
Maglor: *idly scratches at the bandages and is shifty-eyed* *the stones of this city are ENTRANCING, aren't they?*
Feanor: Hmm? Oh. *blinks* *wrinkles her brow* The others I can see, where they aught to be locked away safe somewhere. But one of these is MY sword.
Maglor: *hangs his head* You are not yourself, anymore.
Feanor: *works her jaw* I ... readily admit that, yes.
Maglor: It is better to have them locked away...where no one can touch them.
Feanor: But ... my sword..
Maglor: I will include my own sword, the old one, with these.
Caranthir: *is going to be PISSED*
Caranthir: *in fact IS pissed and standing right behind Maglor <3*
Maglor: *good thing Caranthir's not around then! :D*
Maglor: *well, doesn't know that yet >.>*
Feanor: *is waging an internal battle here, and it's very obvious in her eyes, but eventually nods her head* If your old sword is going, as well. That seems fair. I can forge us new, we would need lighter anyway.
Caranthir: *clears her throat* *dangerously* I had plans for that sword.
Maglor: Perhaps the king of this city could lock them in his treasury...or we could... *blinks* *turns just enough to look over his shoulder down at Caranthir* ...oh, hello sister. You look very pretty today.
horse: *turns head to look at pissy little easterling woman, too*
Caranthir: My sword. I want to see it.
Maglor: *is getting rather...impatient now because he's not feeling very good, but is trying to sound patient* ...even father agrees, Caranthir...it needs to be locked away, and mine is no exception, either. Let him forge you a new sword.
Caranthir: *holds out hand expectantly* Sword. Now.
Maglor: *turns and glares at her* No.
Feanor: *shakes her head* Caranthir. As much as it pains me to admit this openly and especially in front of you. He is right.
Maglor: I would suggest looking, before I take them away, but I would no sooner hand you Maedhros' sword...than your own.
Caranthir: *shakes her head* Nay, nay! I want my bloody sword. I will melt it down myself and forge a new one, but I want to see it.
Maglor: I think... *swats at her held out hand with his left hand, since his right arm is the one bandaged up* ...that sword has seen enough blood, in times past.
Caranthir: *sets her jaw* It is far better metal than any we have here.
Maglor: It belongs with the rest of our swords, so they can all be laid to rest, no one troubles our brothers, and no one troubles you.
Feanor: I can work just as much magic with the steel we have now, as I did before. *shrugs*
Maglor: The sword he made me is light and swift, and more powerful. Let him make you something you can use, with your skinny little mortal arms. Her. Let her make you...you know what I mean. >.<
Feanor: *nods her head*
Caranthir: *jaw is still set, and there's this..stubborn gleam in her eyes*
Maglor: *KNOWS that stubborn gleam, gives him...HER...a LOOK*
Feanor: *looks at Caranthir* Do not be foolish. You are smarter than this.
Maglor: *flat out, no question, not dealing with it right now, patience is thinning* NO.
Caranthir: *Turns, and walks out, stiffly*
Maglor: *clenches fists* >.<
Feanor: *massages at her head* This will not be our last conversation on this matter. Remember the argument over the golden needle?
Maglor: *siiiiiiiiiiiiiiighs at that*
Feanor: Take them away, before they start singing words of temptation to me and I get a stubborn gleam in my eye as well. And then see your elf, and get some rest. >.<
Maglor: ...I will...perhaps...no, that is not a good idea. At least there are not five more of you, protesting this, or it would end in a pile-up with flying fists.
Feanor: Which would be contrary to the way we are all trying to be, now.
Maglor: *takes the bundle of swords and then takes the horse by the reins, saying wearily* I must wonder how long that will last. But...thank you for agreeing with me. I will see they are safe. *starts to lead the horse along behind him, since...just is not in the mood to climb up on a horse again right now*
Caranthir: *ALMOST considers hitting brother over back of head with big stick and TAKING sword >.>**but is putting distance between them so she doesn't DO that*
Feanor: *is beginning to wonder the same thing* *but is very bitchy right now anyway?* *heads back to the forge, to hit steel with a hammer and get her frustration under control*
Maglor: *is making way through city, leading horse, and with swords*
Caranthir: *can't resist temptation >.>**sneaks up behind brother, smacks him in the back of the head with a smithing mallet!**hard!*
Maglor: *almost said ouch on impact, since has said that lots over past few days, but...then is...somewhat knocked out* *lands with a thud, lays there, and the horse stares...helpfully*
horse: *stares, then stares at Caranthir* *blinks*
swords: *landed with a clatter and are laying there*
Caranthir: *pats the horse**whispers in elvish for the horse to get another elf to come check on Maglor, then grabs the swords and skedaddles >.>*
Feanor: *too far away to witness this, and hammering too loudly to hear anything go amiss* *sadly* *or would SO give son the ANGRY stare of ANGRY*
horse: *blinks, stares down at elf, blinks, then wanders back up through the city, until it gets to Ithiriel's house, noses at the door and whinnies* *like its asking if anyone's home*
Maglor: *just kinda laying there, doo dee doo*
horse: *whinnies at Ithiriel's door again like 'helloooooo? nobody home? well...shit.'*
Maglor: *smithing mallet + head = ouch!out!will have elven headache in a wee bit*
Gladharil: *comes up behind the horse, blinks*
horse: *was about to whinny again, then turns, looks at her, swishes its tail and starts to walk back down the street...then stops and turns to look at her* *like its waaaaaaiting*
Gladharil: *blinks**follows like this is nothing out of the ordinary*
horse: *leads her all the way down to...very passed out elf with bump on the back of his head*
Maglor: *laying there with bandages and burns and bump, like doo dee doo* *and had tunic burned off, go him!*
Gladharil: *puts hand to mouth then kneels to check on him* You look like mordor... *and has a nice chest. Ahem**lifts him up, and gets him onto the horse, then leads the horsey up towards the citadel!*
Maglor: *comes to slightly, well, enough to moan and say 'ouch' and...notice he's kind of draped over a horse's back* *but then figures that passing out again? might be much better, since head is pounding, so...just closes eyes and does that*
Gladharil: *leads horse past confused guards and into the bloody citadel itself, as though this was an every day occurance*
horse: *mmhm, perfectly normal, has the doo dee doo look on its face, even*
Gladharil: *walks past the king's office. Both Steward's offices. WIth the horse**stops at Galadriel's door and knocks*
Aragorn/Faramir: O.o
horse: *ho hum look*
Galadriel: *looks up from where she was working on a bit of sewing, eyes Ithiriel ... decides Ithiriel is sleeping with her eyes open again and can't feel Maglor's presence* *puts sewing down, and gets the door*
Boromir: *swore he heard a horse somewhere, but shook his head and KEPT RIGHT ON WRITING ORDERS*
Galadriel: Gladharil. *smiles* I see you brought company.
horse: *continues with ho hum look*
Miriel: *is napping in her room and NOT with her fiance <3*
Gladharil: *smiles* My Lady. Look what I found
Maglor: *continues being nodded off*
Gladharil: Careless of Ithiriel, to leave her things laying around like this.
Maglor: *nodded off, burned, bandaged, and with big bump on back of his head* *well, did hit the stones pretty hard, probably has big bump on front of his head too, IS NOT AWAKE TO NOTICE*
Galadriel: *laughs* I tend to agree. Though I hardly feel it necessary to drag his horse in on this. *twinkles her eyes and heads out into the corridor, lifts him up off the horse like he was a sack of flour*
Gladharil: *summons a guard to take the horse to the stables*
Maglor: *elvish sack of flour right now*
Guard: *NOT ARGUING WITH ANYONE ASSOCIATED WITH ELFWITCH KTHNX!*
horse: *is led off, but is desperately wanting more lembas now, kthanx.*
Galadriel: Go in and gently push Ithiriel to one side, so that we might lay him down as well.
Gladharil: *nods her head and gently moves Ithiriel over**caresses her face a bit after*
Galadriel: *notices* *says nothing* *lays Maglor down and starts stripping other armor bits off of him while checking him over*
Gladharil: *comments* His skin is a bit cold and damp.
Galadriel: I find it hard to believe that the same thing that burned him is also the thing that hit him over the head. *has a suspicious look on her face*
Maglor: *well, what's left of it, since his pants had little burn holes in them, his back = burned like fire rained down on him, his arm...no one wants to see that yet* *she's right, too! would be a little rat and tell on someone but...can not quite yet...because of BUMP ON HIS HEAD*
Caranthir: *IS INNOCENT*
Galadriel: *has a knife and is gently cutting the bandaging away on his arm right now, as well* We will need ice from the kitchens, hot water, my chest of healing herbs, clean bandages and my sewing box.
Maglor: *is soooooo going to deal with brother...errr...sister...err...GRAWRRR*
arm: *bubblicious <3*
arm: *bbq'd*
Galadriel: *lifts the arm up, looks it over, sighs a bit, like her work is simply never done, then lays it back on the bed*
Gladharil: *goes and takes care of the things that Galadriel is asking for, post haste**returns!*
Galadriel: *rolls ice in a bit of cloth, and sets it underneath his head, then sorts through her herbs, throws a bunch into the hot water, and makes herself a cup of tea* *sets more hot water on the fire* It would be better if she did not wake up while we were in the middle of this. But if she does, I am counting on you to keep her from ... doing anything stupid.
Galadriel: *smiles at Gladharil* *stirs at the herbs* Tea?
Gladharil: Of course. And please. She'll panic when she sees him *sighs*
Maglor: *is not that bad, really, considering...could have ended up like the witch's horse?*
Galadriel: She will. *nods her head* And while I have spared her no small amount of lecturing, she may very well use the energy she has recovered to heal him. *shakes her head at stupid young elves* *makes Gladharil a cup of tea*
Gladharil: *sighs and looks down at Ithiriel.*
Galadriel: *rolls out some bandaging, and sets it under his arm, stirs at her herbs some more* *doesn't bother looking up from what she's working on with the bandages* She will be fine. She is very open to learning how not to do that again.
Gladharil: She would make a remarkable healer..
Galadriel: *smirks, checks her herbs, and... they have become a paste of nasty green sludge, nods approvingly and starts smearing it over the burns* *points at the hot water* *nods* That is what she will be. If she is willing. Put the herbs from the blue jar in that water.
Gladharil: *puts the herbs from the blue jar into the water, as directed*
Galadriel: You are not so bad a healer, either. As Malrin's granddaughter I would expect nothing less. Let those steep a while, then add the remaining ice to the water so that it cools. *still smearing up the arm* *merely directing so that things stay orderly* *finishes packing the arm in herbs and starts threading a needle, SEWS the bandages shut, very tightly*
Maglor: *well, at least isn't awake and fidgity?*
Galadriel* grateful for that*
Gladharil: *blushes a bit at the compliment* I don't know..Oddly enough, I think Ithiriel is more suited to such things, than I am.*follows directions!*
Galadriel: *chuckles a bit* starts to gently roll him over, so that they can deal with his back*
Maglor: *still much like a elven sack of flour, so is rolled over*
Gladharil: *winces* Oh...
Galadriel: *removes the ice pack, takes a look at the head wound* *nods her head* *feels around the bump, then gently feels at his head, closes her eyes, 'checks' things in there* *takes bowl of cold water, and starts gently bathing the head wound, then heats up her needle, and starts threading it*
Ithiriel: *chooses now to start blinking her eyes and snapping back into reality* *rubs at her head a bit, isn't sure what's going on yet, though someone warm is next to her*
Gladharil: *makes her drink tea >.>*
Galadriel: *nods at Gladharil, puts a few stitches in the head wound, then starts washing down Maglor's back with the same cold water herb mixture* *is going to have to ask where he was found, at some point*
Ithiriel: *has a teacup shoved into her hands* Nng... Gladha? ...What are you doing here?
Maglor: *oh, someplace between the forge and Ithiriel's, most likely*
Gladharil: I found something you lost. ^_^
Galadriel: She did. Drink your tea. *finishes washing, starts smearing his back with the mucky stuff, too*
Ithiriel: *blinkblinks, looks to her left .. notices a very burned back* *looks at hair, ears, notices burned back belongs to Maglor* *BLINKS* *holds tea cup very tightly*
Maglor: *is fiiiiiiine really, would tell her that, but has somehow managed to perfect the fine art of a knocked-out siiiiiiigh exhale and isn't even awake to do it on purpose*
Gladharil: *puts a reassuring hand on Ithi's shoulder and squeezes*
Gladharil: He's fine. He's likely faced worse. Glaurang perhaps? *laughs*
Ithiriel: He does not LOOK fine. *still gripping teacup, white-knuckled*
Galadriel: *swats at her with her hand* You will not recover, yourself, if you do not stop that immediately. *eyes Ithiriel*
Ithiriel: *eyedarts*
Gladharil: Ithi! >.<
Ithiriel: *looks down at her teacup* I ... want to heal him.
Gladharil: You doubt the lady Galadriel's skill?
Galadriel: It appears I must repeat my third lecture. *twinkles her eyes at Ithiriel*
Ithiriel: Nay! I do not, I just.... *blinks at Galadriel, eyedarts again* That will not be necessary.
Galadriel: The herbs in this will heal him as well as you, and both of our energy is reserved for something worse that may happen. And you have none to spare. *scolds her lightly*
Maglor: *well is starting to half-listen now and makes a slightly scrunchy face*
Gladharil: *grins a bit*
Galadriel: *finishes slathering* Now we simply need my cousin to awaken, so that we might wrap up this wound. *puts the ice back on the head wound*
Gladharil: It doesn't look like the head wound is related to the others.
Ithiriel: *lets out a very worried sigh, and sips at her tea*
Galadriel: It is not. It is more fresh. Where did you find him?
Maglor: *makes a really horrible and decidedly unelvish scrunchy face like his head? hurts* *is trying to wander his way out of some thick brain fog, which is NO THANKS TO HIS BROTHER*
Gladharil: His horse led me to him, he was unconscious on the ground between Ithiriel's rooms and here.
Galadriel: *nods her head* *ponders* The saddlebags were still on the horse, those at least were undisturbed... *knows there's a thick mental fog there, gets up and starts brewing up some restorative tea for Maglor*
Maglor: *doesn't open his eyes, but does groan and has been listening through that fog, at least what he could catch* ...swoooooords...
Maglor: *as in plural, not singular, and had his sword on him before all this healy stuff happened so if cousin & co. put 2 + 2 together, they can probably guess the rest of it*
Gladharil: Words?
Maglor: *siiiiiiighs out the word 'sssssssswords'.*
Galadriel: Swords. *blinks* *narrows her eyes*
Galadriel: *goes to send a think-message out, then stops herself, and instead eyes Gladharil* Someone in this city beat him over the head and stole Feanor and Caranthir's swords.
Maglor: ...nooooo...
Galadriel: I can think of at least ... no? *eyes him*
Maglor: ...all...the swords....
Gladharil: ...that cannot be be good.
Galadriel: *rubs her hand at her face* You returned with all SEVEN of them?
Maglor: *tries to push himself up so he's sitting* *face is like >.< so didn't get a chance to open his eyes*
Maglor: ...witch...all seven...
Galadriel: Nay, it is not good. Go and fetch that teacup I brewed. *holds Maglor steady, helps get him re-arranged so he's sitting properly*
Galadriel: *takes this opportunity to start wrapping bandaging around his torso*
Maglor: *sitting up at least, manages to unsquint one eye and puts up with being bandaged*
Maglor: *since can't fidgit quite yet*
Ithiriel: *would ... put a hand on him or something, but, thinks that would just be temptation* *sips her tea and basically? Continues to look worried*
Gladharil: *pours them all some more tea and looks on worriedly.*
Maglor: *sees Ithi, thought he heard her voice, and gives her a very scrunchy-faced....smile?*
Galadriel: *finishes the bandaging, sews that on tight as well as tying it, and then takes a cup of tea and places it to his lips* Drink, this will help.
Ithiriel: *smiles back?* *doesn't look to reassured, but tries to >.>* *holds the ice pack to his head!*
Maglor: *drinks and finally manages to unscrunch his face*
Gladharil: *puts a hand on Ithi's shoulder again and squeeeezes*
Gladharil: So you retrieved the swords of your father and brothers from this witch, and someone stole them.
Ithiriel: *looks up at Gladharil like she's being a good elf, so please don't yell at her >.>*
Galadriel: All of the swords, the ones of your other brothers, as well. Celeborn and Aragorn must know of this, the Stewards as well. *eyes Gladharil* I dare not trust this message to paper. Celeborn is in the Library, the rest are likely in their offices.
Maglor: *would nod but is drinking tea, so makes a little noise between sips...then hears that and nearly SPITS the sip back out into the cup!* ...noooo...no, no.... *tries to pull his head away from the teacup, is very >.>*
Galadriel: *looks back at Maglor* It is not that horrid tasting.
Maglor: No, I think I know who stole them.
Ithiriel: ... Feanor, or Caranthir, then...
Maglor: ...not Feanor. -_-
Maglor: I will deal with this matter.
Ithiriel: *frowns*
Ithiriel: .... you are ... burned, and ... bruised, and ... *sighs*
Gladharil: Your br-sister?
Maglor: *sighs* ...yes, my br-sister. He...she...is not seeing reason, as of yet.
Galadriel: *doesn't appear to approve of this, either* Caranthir hit you on the head, and stole seven swords that are ... very legendary for the crimes they have committed, and you do not think the King needs to know about this?
Maglor: *as proven by his headache e.e* I do not want Caranthir to get into trouble, over a misunderstanding and a mistake.
Gladharil: *frowns slightly* A mistake?
Maglor: On his part, to be certain. *tries to rub a hand against his forehead, ends up blinking at new arm bandage*
Galadriel: *gives Maglor a look*
Maglor: *gives her a look back and sighs a little* I was not going to let him keep the sword that was once his. Feanor even agreed, that they should be locked away or entombed.
Ithiriel: *lifts the ice* She had to stitch your head up, meleth.... that does not sound like a mistake to me.
Maglor: ...a mistake in that he...she...lost his...her...patience. *>.< a bit, but not at the meleth part at all, immediately smiled a little just hearing it?*
Galadriel: I was lead to believe that my Uncle, and other Cousin, were repentant in their new forms. This is not reassuring news.
Maglor: Caranthir merely wanted to reforge his sword, and I was not being agreeable either, so it angered...her. HER. Yes, it angered her. I will go reason with Caranthir.
Galadriel: *lets out a long sigh* You are in no shape to do that, and you know it. *points at all the bandaging*
Ithiriel: *is finding this interaction interesting*
Maglor: *says in light and airy way* ...but I feel quite better now, with so many healers giving me such excellent care and attention. *long pause* *smiiiiiiles?*
Aragorn: *knocks on the door*
Galadriel: *gives him another look* Enter!
Maglor: *is unbudgingly certain that he can talk Caranthir into handing them back over*
Aragorn: *enters**dragging in a very petulant looking Caranthir, and flanked by two of the Grey Company*
Maglor: ... *eyes go round*
Aragorn: So that explains the horse. *chuckles*
Maglor: *blurts out* ...misunderstanding!
Galadriel: *arches a brow* Elessar, you continue to surprise me.
Aragorn: *SITS Caranthir down* My rangers witnessed a most peculiar spectacle, of Caranthir striking her own brother and making off with 7 rather powerful swords. This is a misunderstanding?
Maglor: *then gives Caranthir a LOOK like 'mis.under.STANDING.' *
Caranthir: My hammer slipped. *dry*
Ithiriel: *frowns* *doesn't THINK it's a misunderstanding* *says nothing*
Maglor: *tries to say so calmly but is like inner!panic!* ...which sprung up from a very small, insignificant debate. Which resulted in...the hammer slipping and landing on my head. Happened all the time, really.
Galadriel: *lets out a weary sigh and takes the other chair*
Aragorn: *doesn't look convinced*
Maglor: So, where are the swords now? *is asking in utterly unfettered way, but is looking at Caranthir like he's about ready to start STRANGLING*
Caranthir: *rolls her eyes* He would not let me have my sword, what was mine by right. I do not even intend to use it! I wish to melt it down and make something else out of it >.<*
Aragorn: Somewhere safe.
Galadriel: *is not convinced, either* *wonders how many more times she'll have to keep silent over something her cousins do ><*
Maglor: *eyes Caranthir, then the king* ...then you are missing one sword. My old sword is at Ithiriel's, and should join the rest.
Aragorn: *nods his head, and gestures for the rangers to see to it...and they're gone. Like Batman*
Maglor: *is actually wondering why she's keeping quiet, but is certain he's going to hear ALL about it, when the room's emptied more*
Galadriel: *has her reasons*
Maglor: *eyes her for a moment, then looks back at Caranthir*
Galadriel: *looks at Aragorn* As this is all such a misunderstanding, perhaps you would feel free to leave Caranthir in my care.
Maglor: *is having brotherly stare-off right now*
Aragorn: *still doesn't look convinced*
Maglor: *says simply* It is a family matter.
Galadriel: *gives Aragorn a look, like 'We will discuss this later, trust me.'*
Maglor: *which, basically? is thinking maybe that'd be good for 'sister' to be watched by 'cousin' since she won't be getting bonked on the back of the head with smithing mallets*
Aragorn: This occurence does not inspire confidence in her capability to shrug off the mistakes of the past. *glances at Maglor* And if it had not been a family matter, then she would be dead.
Aragorn: *glances at Galadriel* Since there are few as capable as you are, I will allow this. *reply look of "Yes, yes we will"*
Maglor: *sighs miserably*
Galadriel: I appreciate your lenience in this matter. *nods at Aragorn*
Maglor: Yes, thank you. I would rather kill her, myself. *wry look suggests he's not serious*
Aragorn: *rangers would have shot her through the head with an arrow if they had thought it necessary, instead? they followed <3**nods his head, turns to go, tossing over his shoulder* Consider this your one and only warning. *is gone!*
Galadriel: *gets up, strides over to the door, and shuts it* *forcefully*
Maglor: *twitched a bit at that*
Caranthir: >.>
Maglor: *well, at least now is reminded of Artanis of old?*
Galadriel: *then remembers something, and opens it back up* Gladharil, please help your friend Ithiriel to the dining area, and make sure she eats.
Maglor: *eyes widen a bit...looks at Ithiriel* o.O
Gladharil: *blinks**nods her head and hops to her feet, grab's Ithi's arm and drags her out!*
Ithiriel: *glances from Maglor, to Caranthir, to Galadriel, frowns* *pats Maglor on the uninjured arm and stumbles off the bed* *then gets dragged out!*
Maglor: *pleading look for a few seconds of 'take me with you!'*
Galadriel: *shuts the door behind them* *again* *still forcefully*
Maglor: *rests one hand over his forehead, since the sound of forceful doors shutting isn't helping headachey*
Caranthir: *winces at that*
Caranthir: Should have let them kill me. I know they wanted to.
Maglor: *says before anything can start* I could have made him see the reason in it... *glares at...sister* Oh go to Angband.
Galadriel: *leans against the door, in fact* *is counting to 100, to get anger under control*
Maglor: You did not need to hit me, we could have talked this out, even father agreed to it!
Maglor: You do not need that sword. *bestows...LOOK OF MISERABLE DISAPPOINTMENT*
Caranthir: It is mine! *squeezes her eyes shut* I am not sure I even care for it any longer, but it's mine.
Maglor: You. Are being. GREEDY AGAIN! *ok, had to hold head after that, mumbles an apology for yelling*
Caranthir: IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH GREED!
Galadriel: It was yours. And through it, great evils were done. Putting it aside is a gesture of good faith. It proves you do not wish to work great evils, again. *glares at Caranthir*
Maglor: *groans and nods at what she said, as best he can* You know...had I been some mortal with your sword, and you had hit me atop my mortal head, I would not be awake at all. Ever.
Galadriel: *nods her head, in agreement* As it is, he is likely concussed.
Caranthir: I have no wish to work great evils with anything. And I would not have struck him if he had not been my brother, and Eldar. I am not -that- foolish.
Caranthir: If I did not think he could have handled it, I would have tried another recourse.
Maglor: *sighs* You do not need that sword any longer, Caranthir.
Galadriel: These words do not instill me with any kind of confidence, for you still pondered - and followed through on - a violent act towards your OWN BROTHER.
Maglor: *scrunches up one eye and is quiet*
Galadriel: Did you learn NOTHING?
Maglor: *opens mouth in what looks to be an attempt to smooth eeeverything ooover*
Caranthir: *shrinks back, just a little**Pissed!gally is like a truthserem!**eyes wide, might actually be scared* I wanted to hold my sword again. Then I wanted to melt it down and see the molten steel wash away the centuries of blood...
Maglor: ... *closes mouth*Khamul would like us to know that Galadriel is turning him on right now, and he needs a bath to scrub away how dirty he feels
Galadriel: *frowns* *shrinks a bit* .... Melting the sword will not wash it away, for it was your hands wielding it that are covered in blood, and not the sword itself. Let the sword sleep, and work on washing your own hands clean.
Galadriel: An excellent start would have been not hitting him over the head in the first place.
Maglor: *glum* I am well, though. I will feel much better, tomorrow. There has been no real harm done. This has been hard on him also, being as he is, now.
Galadriel: Oh nay. Kinslaying is not alright, but raising one's hand against one's brother is, simply because 'he can take it' ?
Caranthir: *shakes her head**it feels admittedly clearer now that the swords are out of reach**gally being TERRIFYING helps too* Melt them all down, all 8 of them, and make something out of them to honor the dead.
Caranthir: We did worse as elflings >.<
Galadriel: And that was not good, either!
Maglor: ...no, they need to be locked away, where they can not be touched, again.
Caranthir: Celegorm shoved me off a cliff!
Maglor: *sighs* Celegorm said you tripped.
Caranthir: *snarls* Melt them down, so they can never be a temptation again!
Galadriel: *shakes her head*
Caranthir: He also said that was food dye that one time.
Maglor: No. I do not want you touching them. -_-
Galadriel: Your father fashioned a sword recently, to help Maglor against the witch.
Caranthir: You do it, you know how to work a forge.
Galadriel: He had to face temptation, and come back from it.
Maglor: I do not want to touch them either. -_- Listen to what she is saying. Let them, and thereby us, rest in peace.
Galadriel: So must you. Erasing them completely is not the same.
Caranthir: His was a different temptation. *sighs, irritated that they cannot see what he can* But as long as those swords exist, they will be a temptation. If not to us, then to others. Or would you like witches to somehow get ahold of them again ten centuries from now and bring us all back. Again.
Maglor: Then I am certain the king will lock them away, where you can not ever find them, and no hands can touch them.
Galadriel: *arches a brow* Like that gem, that was found last month.
Galadriel: ... Perhaps you are both right.
Caranthir: Once, Doriath's vaults were safe. *bitter sounding, and...intense, overwhelming regret in her voice*
Galadriel: *needs Celeborn*
Caranthir: Gem? *Said in a "I never want to see another gem as long as I live" voice*
Maglor: *looks at her questioningly and says calmly* ...Caranthir, if you do not cease your protests, I will get out of this bed, and shove a pillow down your mortal throat.
Maglor: *doesn't really, either, want to see one, but thinks he knows its the one he held*
Galadriel: It was locked away in a secret chamber that likely, no one ever thought would be found, again. Yet it was.
Maglor: *says softly* Then have the swords placed there, and have the chamber sealed.
Galadriel: Sealed chambers have a way of opening themselves, just as rings of power have a way of getting lost for 500 years, only to be found again. Yet I would not have any of you touch them again, either.
Caranthir: *laughs and beats her head against the back of her chair* Eru, being near the sword is like having everything I've done held up to the light, and yet I wanted to hold that sword, so badly....
Maglor: *looks pensive and sounds sullen* I have no want for my old sword. Other than my father made it for me, once, long ago. *shrugs a little* I held onto it, for that reason, only.
Caranthir: *quietly, and as if realizing it for the first time in many years* ...we swore that accursed oath on those swords.
Maglor: *closes eyes and nods* *a little nod, since head is achey*
Galadriel: *finally removes herself from the door, and goes to sink into a chair* Finishing your tea will fix that headache.
Maglor: *is not sure if lecture is coming or not, so reaches over with one hand, grabs onto a cup of tea, and starts drinking*
Galadriel: *has no lectures* *is sad, and weary, and thoughtful*
Maglor: *finishes it, since is having a brooding moment of his own, then sets the cup aside*
Caranthir: *folds arms**looks petulant*
Maglor: *mouths the word 'stop' at Caranthir*
Galadriel: Let someone else melt them down.
Caranthir: *eyes her* Who would have the skill to stoke the fires hot enough?
Galadriel: Do you think that you three are the only skilled smiths ever to be found in all of Arda?
Maglor: It would require a greater forge than the one, here. *sighs* At least, then, we would know no one would insult our brothers by getting ahold of those swords and putting them in mortal bodies.
Galadriel: There is such a forge, at Imladris, and perhaps the smith that reforged Narsil has not sailed, yet.
Caranthir: The farther away, the less I will be tempted again.
Maglor: *thinks* ...a dwarven forge might also suffice. But it is a more suiting end, if it is done in an elven forge, I think.
Galadriel: No dwarves are getting involved with this. *nods at Maglor*
Caranthir: *sees nothing wrong with dwarves, they're good to do business with, but agrees!* *rather disappointed in self XD*
Maglor: *nods a little in response* They might get greedy and try to keep them, much like Caranthir, who tends to act like a dwarf. *siiiiiighs like that's horrible*
Galadriel: *does not trust a dwarf further than she can TOSS one, which is not far, seeing as they do not like to be tossed, much* *amends that with 'except perhaps Gimli'* *but would not trust him with this, either*
Maglor: *says quietly after a further moment's thought* I agree to this, but I do not think our father should be told of it, either. Not until the swords are on their way to be destroyed, and none of us can follow.
Galadriel: I will ask Lord Elrond if his smiths are still in residence.
Caranthir: *looks at his brother like 'that's a good idea, wow'*
Maglor: *look of utter complete -___- but nods*
Maglor: *yes, tended to have good ideas, but...guess what! rarely ever heeded by others (or set aside his good ideas after being talked out of them)* *on upside? no lectures aimed at him!* *feels...mildly triumphant*
Caranthir: For what it is worth, I am sorry. *to both of them*
Maglor: *says softly* Apology accepted.
Galadriel: *nods her head*
Maglor: I am sorry that I slapped at your frail mortal hand, the way that I did.
Caranthir: *snorts*
Maglor: *starts to get out of bed*
Maglor: *head? is less achey* *equilibrium? is still off* *stands for about 2.5 seconds and then falls over*
Caranthir: Sit the Angband back down...or you could fall over.
Galadriel: *frowns* If I were you I would not try that again for a time.
Maglor: .... *says while holding onto the bed* ....I'm all right...I can walk...I just need to lean more to the right, than try to stand up straight.
Caranthir: *facepalms*
Galadriel: You sound like Ithiriel. You two are perfect for eachother. *chuckles*
Caranthir: *smirk*
Maglor: *stands, smiles at them both while overcompensating by leaning to the right a bit* ....why thank you...we are...I wish to go speak to her...and then go back to her little house...
Galadriel: You may speak to her, when she returns, for she is not going home herself for at least another week.
Maglor: *heads for the door with both arms out like he's walking on a beam* ....go back to her little house...and think on...not thinking for a small while... *nearly staggered and fell over* ...what? o.O
Caranthir: *curious*
Galadriel: *gives Caranthir a look, then gets up, and gently grabs Maglor by the arm*
Maglor: What was that, another week....?
Maglor: *blink-stares down at his arm* *then blink-stares at her* ...we can not take your room, though...
Galadriel: We have more than one room here, and can put a bed in another.
Galadriel: Or simply move this one.
Galadriel: *shuffle-guides him back to the bed*
Maglor: ....no, no...not this one... *starts to lean too much to the left again and nearly goes staggering sideways*
Galadriel: Yes, this one. *firmly* Caranthir, if you would help me?
Maglor: ... *leaaaaans until he's clinging onto the foot of the bed with both hands, in protest*
Caranthir: *gets up, helps, while having as much distance as possible between her and Artanis* Lay. Down.
Maglor: ...noooo...not this one...was supposed to...promised her that... *great, now ears are turning a nice shade of pink* *tries to grab hold of...anything that can save him from being put in that bed*
Galadriel: Neither of you are in any condition to fulfill any kind of promises right now.
Maglor: *tries to negotiate* ...another room...that's good... *desperate negotiations* ...another room with...privacy...at least...even if....no promises fulfilled.... >.< *trying to cling onto a bedpost*
Caranthir: Promise? OH! Oh!! Oh!!! *starts CRACKING THE FUCK UP* *yet? Is oddly jealous*
Maglor: *brooding little glaaaaaare while trying to hug onto bedpost*
Galadriel: *gets an amused look* Sit in the chair, then, and I will move the bed to the other room.
Maglor: *sighs finally like he's relieved to hear that, and then lets go and does balancing act over to the chair, turns to sit down and nearly ends up on the floor...catches self...sliiiiides elven bum into chair, and eyedarts* ...if there is...some other room nearby...so you are not put out of yours...
Caranthir: You cannot bond in your condition. *laughs*
Maglor: Your bed...I mean...GO TO ANGBAND! *mutters apology for yelling* *again*
Galadriel: Most assuredly not.
Maglor: *covers face with both hands*
Caranthir: *giggles**covers mouth, looks horrified over giggling again*
Maglor: *why not, elf!Caranthir actually used to cackle-laugh as it was* *it was the most not pretty sounding thing, ever*
Galadriel: *chuckles* I want her where I can keep an eye on her.
Maglor: *muffled little voice* ...I promise...not to even dare try...something like that...
Galadriel: We were offered the rooms across the hall for our retinue, but they took a room elsewhere. Let me just check and see if the space is still available.
Galadriel: *ducks out*
Maglor: *nods and then finally lets his hands drop away with a sigh*
Maglor: *sulkily says under his breath to Caranthir* I only wish that I could have embarrassed you in like kind, when you were yourself.
Caranthir: Bonding, eh? *sighs**can still remember..the burning need and want for Haleth**it pissed him off so much. Pissed him off even more than the fact that she all but rejected him. Without really rejecting him. Which was even more annoying.*
Galadriel: *retrieves the key to the quarters across from a housekeeper with very little negotiation, and checks the quarters out herself before returning* *holds up the key* I will give this to Ithiriel when she returns. For the time being, let us get you settled.
Caranthir: *nods her head, still stewing a bit in old memories**grabs brother's arm and helps him up*
Maglor: .... *nods a little, is toying with the necklace for lack of hands having things to fidgit with, then is hauled up*
Galadriel: *eyes the necklace*
Maglor: *gives Caranthir a look like he knows what...or who...he's thinking about, just as he lets go of the necklace with his other hand* *smiiiiiiiiiiiirks*
Galadriel: *has a look on her face like much has suddenly become clear* *takes Maglor's other arm*
Caranthir: *follows Gally's eyes, then blinks* Hah!
Maglor: *was about to ask in 'innocent whisper' if Caranthir was dwelling back on one of his few honorable moments*
Caranthir: *resumes dwelling*
Maglor: *standing between them, and blinks* ...hah, what?
Galadriel: *adds a few things to her list of things to lecture Ithiriel about* The bed across the hall is a bit larger, and softer. *smirks*
Caranthir: *dwell dwell*
Maglor: *nods a little like that's good, he supposes* ...are you certain no one else...might need it? *walks with assistance*
Caranthir: *dwell sigh*
Galadriel: I am certain. In fact, you both may find these rooms better suited in days to come, as many people share that house with her. *glances at him with another amused smile*
Maglor: .... *whispers under his breath for Caranthir to 'let it go' and sighs also, then blinks*
Galadriel: *gets Maglor safely across the hallway, and installed on the bed* *room is pretty well situated, has a bedroom and a large living area with fireplace*
Maglor: ...why did you smile like that...? *is now in squishy bigger bed, but looks uncomfortable even then*
Caranthir: *sinks into a chair, is loooost*
Maglor: Someone needs to tell...her...where I am, also...not Ithiriel...him-her. >.o
Galadriel: *tilts her head, nods* I am sure Caranthir will.
Maglor: *says in a sing-song voice so Caranthir might hear him* ...you are in soooo~oooo much trouble.
Maglor: *slightly higher singing notes* ....SOO~ooo much trouble.
Caranthir: *blinks out of reverie* Eh?
Caranthir: Oh. I will likely get cuffed.
Maglor: *nods* You will.
Caranthir: *eyes Galadriel**Half expected HER to cuff him earlier*
Maglor: *wasn't entirely sure he expected it to happen for certain*
Galadriel: *learned her lessons* *doesn't raise her hands against other elves, not even mortals unless necessary*
Caranthir: *pushes herself up* I suppose I should face the music.
Galadriel: *tilts her head, glances off for a second, like she's thinking* I wish another cup of tea, and my chair. I will send Ithiriel over to you. *slips out of the room, just like that*
Maglor: ... *nods to them both, will have to tell her about the witch, at some point, also*
Maglor: *rests, or tries to*
Galadriel: *sinks into chair* *feels, suddenly, all of her 20 thousand or so years*
Caranthir: *hugs her brother once Artanis is gone, then walks out, herself**feels ashamed*
Celeborn: *leaning against the wall* That was interesting.
Galadriel: *curls up* I am glad you agree.
Celeborn: *walks over* I am not sure you felt it, but I was giving you some support. *sits down next to her* Even if, I think, it was something you had to do, without me.
Galadriel: I nearly sent for you, at one point.... *smiles tiredly, reaches a hand out for him*
Celeborn: I got the mental telegram. *taps his skull, then takes her hand* Dealing with those four, is like a job unto itself.
Galadriel: I was trying not to send you one.
Celeborn: I got that as well, which is why I did not come running. *winks*
Galadriel: I am not sure you would have come running, even if I had stopped myself. *chuckles softly* As I needed to do this myself.
Celeborn: A turn of phrase. *winks at her* Do you think you are up for a walk of the gardens?
Galadriel: *has to stop and think about that, then shakes her head* Another time, perhaps.
Celeborn: Pity. *nods his head*
Galadriel: I am ... sorry... *frowns*
Celeborn: *smiles* Nay, we can take a walk later. Conserve some strength, the fell poison is still being fought by your body, and you just dealt with stubborn Feanorians and a very stubborn she-elf.
Celeborn: Nigh as stubborn as you are, I am afraid.
Galadriel: She will make an excellent addition to the family, and an amazing healer, as well. Assuming she ever gets over the idea of being stubborn.
Galadriel: *smirks a bit* *gets up, and starts picking up the mess that was left from healing Maglor up*
Celeborn: *gets up to help her, in companionable silence*