Forgotten harper, singer doomed. (gold_cleaver) wrote in untold_logs, @ 2008-06-24 00:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | caranthir, feanor, ithiriel, maglor |
Who: Caranthir, Feanor, Ithiriel, Maglor
What: A wedding gift, a dead body, a trunk, and a bonfire.
When: Yesterdayish, some time after Celeborn left to find Galadriel.
Caranthir: *knocks on Maglor's door!*
Maglor: *nearly dropped teacup he was holding*
Ithiriel: *looks up from where she's sitting* *pats Maglor's hand, gets up to get the door!*
Maglor: *eyedarts, hopes its not bad news, drinks some tea* *hopefully its the calm fuzzy wuzzy warm room type of mellowness tea, too*
Caranthir; *holding a wrapped box >.>*
Ithiriel: *brewed Maglor a seperate pot of tea, that was mellow and nice, yes* *opens the door, smiles* Cara!
Maglor: *nearly drops teacup again*
Maglor: *stands in a o.O whathappenednow sort of way*
Ithiriel: *opens the door a bit more widely so that Caranthir can come in*
Caranthir: *enters* *blinks at his brother* You look like the end is nigh.
Ithiriel: *shuts the door* He has a way of looking like that, yes.
Maglor: Is the end nigh? Tell me that is not someone's fingers in a box, or some other body part that I shudder even to think about. *points at the box with accusing finger of...accusingness*
Caranthir: *sets the box down, lets out a frustrated sigh* It's a wedding present.
Maglor: Oh. OH. *blinks at the box* Thank you, Caranthir. We are not...yet...wedded...
Ithiriel: *smiles at Caranthir, and one-handedly gets a cup down for her* Do you want some tea, Caranthir?
Maglor: *rushes to get the cup and pour tea into it*
Maglor: >.>; *pours while eyedarting most verily*
Ithiriel: *wonders how long it'll be before a cup gets dropped, again*
Ithiriel: Perhaps I should be the one to open it, then.... *eyedarts, takes a seat, and pokes the box with her finger*
Caranthir: Take it as a hint then. And no help from father. *snorts* *takes a seat and sips tea!*
Maglor: *nearly overflowed the cup, nearly slung tea on Caranthir while turning around to give her the cup, and dribbled tea everywhere before putting the kettle back down*
Maglor: You made us something, then. That is...very thoughtful of you. And you look very pretty today, if you have not been told that already.
Caranthir: *does in fact look very pretty, complete with makeup and jewellry..SHUTUP!*
Caranthir: I'm not pretty. >.<
Ithiriel: There is no harm, I should think, in ... enjoying the body you were put into. You do look very pretty. I might suggest a dress maker, though, so that you can get a few things that fit better.
Maglor: Yes, yes you look very pretty. *scrunches up his nose a little* You and your...face paint.
Caranthir: >.<
Caranthir: Open the box!
Ithiriel: *pokes the box one more time with her finger* Our first wedding present,and we are not even wedded yet. *smirks a bit*
Caranthir: Get a move on. I want neices and nephews. -_-
Maglor: *smiles* *and its in a mildly cheeky way, since he got away with the facepaint remark*
Ithiriel: We are going as fast as we can. *primly*
Maglor: She is not well enough yet, so you will both have to be patient.
Maglor: *nods...in a boy!prim sort of way*
Caranthir: *smirks*
Caranthir: You two compliment each other.
Caranthir: *nudges the box towards Ithiriel*
Ithiriel: *eyes the box, and starts trying to open it with one hand, very stubbornly*
Caranthir: *watches, amused*
Maglor: *helps...one-handedly*
Ithiriel: *glances at Maglor, smiles at him*
Maglor: *smiles at her, and voila! the box is opened, while still letting her do that and not rushing in to do it for her*
Ithiriel: *gives him a very appreciative look for that, then peers into the box*
Maglor: *looks in, also!*
Present: *is a 3 foot statue of them dancing, intertwined. Painted intrically.**PAINSTAKING detail*
Ithiriel: *is absolutely speachless* *draws in a breath of awe at the work, and gently reaches out a finger to caress at the figurine of Maglor*
Maglor: *bliiiinks wide-eyed at it* This is...very impressive work, Caranthir. I am...in awe of it.
Caranthir: I saw it. In a vision.
Caranthir: *saw another vision but didn't want to carve his sibling in the throws of passion >.>*
Ithiriel: It is so.... very lifelike. *gently pokes at the mini-maglor again* I almost expect him to start moving.
Caranthir: Perhaps one day. *has ideas about that*
Maglor: *is smiling at it and says without really thinking it over* ...perhaps if you and father put your heads together, you can make something of metal and wood, that could move. Like...a toy, of sorts.
Ithiriel: Perhaps... I would like to see that. *nods her head softly*
Maglor: *looks...very happy with this gift, indeed* You are very talented, Caranthir. Father must be proud of you.
Ithiriel: *wants to set it somewhere, and nudges the sculpture with her finger to see if she can get an idea how heavy it is*
Maglor: *gently suggests to her* I will lift it, if you choose the place where you would like it to be displayed.
Caranthir: *looks..intrigued..like she really rather likes this idea. >.>**shrugs a bit* As if I'd ever get a kind word from father, where crafting is concerned.
Caranthir: But thank you. Your compliments...they mean a lot to me.
Statues: *pretty heavy*
Ithiriel: *winces a bit at the thought of trying to lift them on her own, and then nods* *rises, and indicates a table next to the window* Right here, perhaps.
Caranthir; *watches, antsy*
Maglor: I am certain for work of this sort, he...she...can spare a kind word or two. *nods at Caranthir, lifts the statue, and takes it over to the table* ... *sets it down, turns it a little*
Ithiriel: I do not know, what he was like before, but he seems a bit .... .... less hard, now?
Caranthir: It's a ruse. -_-
Ithiriel: How can you be so sure?
Maglor: *sighs* It is not a ruse.
Caranthir: It is. *sighs* He has not stopped drawing mother. We had a fight.
Ithiriel: *pokes her injured hand with her good one* He sat beside me, in the healing houses, when Maglor was .... off somewhere. That does not sound like someone who does not care.
Maglor: ...he misses her, and perhaps now that he has been let out of your waiting, it is all the more...difficult...under such conditions as this.
Caranthir: I talked him out of..climbing up the mountain again, but I haven't seen him since.
Ithiriel: Do you think we should go looking for him?
Maglor: *nods* I will go.
Ithiriel: *goes to get her cloak* *is not going to sit alone ><*
Caranthir: *sighs* Perhaps she needs time alone!
Maglor: I would not have it snow again, and I will do this alone, or he will not be...forthcoming, talking about matters.
Caranthir: *frowns* *sighs, and nods her head* She wouldn't listen to me. Maybe she'll listen to you.
Cara: Her!
Cara: Him!
Cara: Whatever!
Ithiriel: ... *sighs* You are not going to let me go with you, are you?
Maglor: *nods* Him. I will always think of Feanor as a him, and a father, not...this cruel joke. This would not have happened, if you had each been forgiven and released, into your own bodies.
Maglor: And no, I am not. I'm sorry. He tends to...be unreasonable when he feels as though he's being...confronted by more than one person.
Caranthir: *puts a hand on Ithi's shoulder*
Ithiriel: *picks up his cloak, instead, and hands it to him*
Maglor: *takes it, with yet another sigh, and pulls it on, then clasps it and sheepishly smiles at them both*
Maglor: I suppose then, that I will need to get the key, to go searching up the mountain for that cave, again.
Ithiriel: *hugs him* Perhaps it is nothing?
Maglor: It has not snowed as of yet, so... *hugs her in return* ...I hope it is nothing, as well.
Caranthir: Try the city first..the forges.
Ithiriel: *nods her head* He may just be... focused, on forging something.
Maglor: *looks unsure, but nods after a moment* I will try that, yes. *gives Ithiriel a quick kiss, then looks at Caranthir, smiles? and kisses his 'sister' on the cheek* *then runs like Angband out the door*
Ithiriel: *watches him leave, then shuts the door, and heads back over to the table*
Maglor: *heads out of the citadel, and down through the circles, toward the forge*
Feanor: Is not .... at the forge*
Maglor: *finally gets there, looks around, and siiiiighs because nothing is ever made easy* -_-
Maglor: *goes to...the inn* *knocks on the inn room door*
Feanor: *eyedarts* *very, very slowly closes the trunk the leathers are in, and pretends that she is not there*
Maglor: *tries the doorhandle to see if the door's been locked*
Feanor: *is smart, but somehow missed the whole 'lock the door when you're being sneaky' thing*
Maglor: *opens the door, peeks his head around it to take a look around*
Feanor: *hides pink leather behind him* *eyedarts* Maglor ... fancy meeting you here! I must have completely missed your knocking.
Maglor: ...yes, you must have. *enters the room and closes the door, then...locks it*
Maglor: *says quietly* Caranthir mentioned, that the two of you had a...disagreement.
Feanor: *tilts her head* Family is not allowed to argue from time to time?
Maglor: ...and you were...drawing pictures of mother.
Feanor: That was also not a crime, when last I looked. *would cross her arms over her chest, but would drop leathers then*
Maglor: It is not, but that did upset you, before. Enough that it snowed.
Feanor: It is not snowing.
Feanor: The wind picked up, and I told it to stop.
Maglor: ... *sighs*
Feanor: What do you want? Do you wish me to promise never to think of her again? Would you be able to keep up the same promise about the one YOU love?
Maglor: *says simply* I am ill-equipped for this. I am not her, but I am what you are left with, at present, to listen. Since you continue to argue with Caranthir. *sits down in a chair*
Feanor: I wanted to go somewhere cooler. He saw fit to deny my request. *says, simply*
Feanor: I was not asking. He had no right to do that.
Maglor: He has the right to do that, out of concern. We do not want you to fall ill, or freeze, all alone.
Maglor: I will not let you, either. Even if I must stare at you, all day and all night.
Feanor: *sighs* I do not wish to be babysat by my own sons. I have things to finish and it is very warm in the city, at times.
Maglor: Warm is much better than too cold. *looks like he's sitting there, and isn't budging*
Feanor: *drops the leather behind her, and crosses her arms over her chest* *starts pacing*
Maglor: *waits with a resigned expression, like he's waiting for a verbal explosion*
Feanor: You cannot be our keeper. It will wear you to the bone, and you will have nothing left for more important matters.
Feanor: *snaps this, and itches at her arms a bit* I will NOT be kept.
Maglor: You are too late, for there is no one else to watch you, and knows the both of you, as I do.
Maglor: I fear that harm will come to either one of you, and I do not want to lose the both of you, before it is time to bid farewell to one another, once again.
Feanor: You cannot keep me locked up like this. *growls*
Maglor: *is not snappish at all, is saying it in a sort of calm voice, which hints at near-sighing now and again* I am not yet ready to let you go. And you know, as I know, that while she might be waiting...there is a chance that none of us will see her, again.
Maglor: *stares at Feanor* You will drive yourself as mad as I am, in only half the time. Not even that. Another month, and I fear that you will reach that point, and bring harm to yourself.
Feanor: *paces close enough to a wall to PUNCH it, and does so* *more than once* SHUT UP.
Maglor: *somehow managed not to flinch at that* Mind your hands, Feanor, lest you have one of them bandaged and are not able to craft anything for a time.
Maglor: *quiets, like he's just...waiting*
Feanor: *punches the wall one last time, then leans and rests her head against it* I am your father and you will speak to me like I am such, and not some 4 year old mortal.
Maglor: I have always spoken this way. -_-
Maglor: I spoke this way to my brothers, your sons, as well, and to mother, and to... *sighs* *just goes quiet, which is also what he used to do, when people threw fits*
Maglor: *suspects father might need to actually throw one, before he feels a smidge better*
Feanor: *wags his hand in the air a bit, winces*
Maglor: *watches, but still...is not moving, is just watching*
Feanor: ONE OF US ... will see her again ... Do not even THINK otherwise. It is likely to be you, but she is there, and alive, and waiting for at least ONE of us..
Maglor: *says in a low, low voice* I would rather...as much as I would like to see her again as well...that it was you. As you should be...not...as you are now.
Feanor: *lets out a very, very long sigh*
Maglor: *almost echoed it* -_-
Feanor: *flexes hand, almost wants to punch the wall again, but that decidedly hurts more than it used to*
Feanor: *storms around the room a bit, slamming things*
Maglor: *does flinch a bit, but takes to rubbing his hand over his eyes, and letting father take out frustrations on inanimate objects*
Feanor: *finally calms down enough to stop slamming things*
Maglor: *rubs at his eyes one last time and then drops his hand down and looks hopefully? at father*
Feanor: *paces over to the windowsill, leans on it, looks outside* I will not give her up. Memories of her are all that I have left.
Maglor: *says in a hushed voice* Neither should you become obsessed.
Feanor: I am not obsessed.
Feanor: *eyedarts, looks back outside* *holds a hand out the window, and ... sighs*
Maglor: *once again feels like no matter what he says, it won't be listened to, so is quiet except for a sigh of his own*
Feanor: At least it is only raining, this time...
Caranthir: *slips in quietly, like ninja*
Feanor: I do not think I am safe.
Maglor: *looks miserable just hearing that* Why do you say that?
Caranthir: *listens*
Feanor: I thought I could keep this under control, but I am not sure that I can. Something is going to make me snap, and then this city will be covered in ice.
Feanor: I may not be fast enough to get to the other witch and be put to sleep.
Maglor: *ponders that, and then solemnly asks* ...and what, then, do you wish to do?
Feanor: I either need to leave this city, and go somewhere I cannot hurt anyone else, or I need to be stopped.
Maglor: -_-
Feanor: I wanted to see our grandchildren, but seeing them is not worth the lives of these other mortals.
Caranthir: In all likely hood it will be me that causes you to 'snap', father.
Feanor: You were not here a moment ago, Caranthir, when I was slamming things and hitting the wall.
Maglor: *looks miserable...and twitchy*
Caranthir: I nearly hit you, last time we talked.
Feanor: All of this because I draw pictures of mother. *eyerolls* I wonder what the two of you would do if I started drawing pictures of rainbows and butterflies?
Maglor: ...weep.
Caranthir: Weep? I would bawl like a mortal child >.<
Maglor: *lets out a long, heavy sigh of woe*
Feanor: ... Rainbows and Butterflies were good things, when last I looked.
Feanor: You would rather I sketch out scenes where I am stabbing things?
Maglor: *just looks like he's stuck in a vast wasteland of despair, and...there's a lone tumbleweed rolling past him, and it doesn't even pause or stop rolling, either*
Caranthir: Nay! It is just..different. Strange. *comes over to them and frowns a bit* You should make mother out of bronze.
Feanor: I have no way of doing that.
Feanor: *eyes Maglor* ..... What IS your problem!?
Maglor: *voice of angsty resignation* ...nooothing.
Caranthir: He is feeling woeful. You cannot leave, father.
Maglor: -_-
Feanor: I cannot leave. I cannot draw mother. I cannot make swords. Apparently, I am not allowed to feel sad, or slam my own fist against the wall.
Feanor: TELL ME WHAT IT IS I AM ALLOWED TO DO. >.<
Caranthir: *slugs her* Stop acting like a whiny little bitch! *grabs father's wrists* Look at me.
Maglor: *is just...wincing*
Feanor: *blinkblinkblinks*
Feanor: *wrinkles brow* *wrinkles it further*
Feanor: ...... *GLARE*
Caranthir: *waits* I want you to go to the forge, and I want you to make a bronze cast statue of your wife. I want you to pour your heart and your soul into it, until it aches to look upon it.
Caranthir: Because when you are done, you will have created a thing of such beauty, that this weight on your heart will be gone.
Feanor: *fights to get her wrists free*
Maglor: *morbidly says, with a bit of a twitch* ...it is either that, or you both take up swords, hack off one another's heads at the same time, and are free from worrying about having to deal with being mortals.
Caranthir: >.<
Maglor: Run one another through...leap off a tall cliff onto rocks...find a tall tree while bearing a short rope...
Caranthir: *lets go of his mother*
Feanor: *finally gets his wrists free from Caranthir, walks up to Maglor, slaps him* Be happy. Your wife is right here, where you can see her. *storms out*
Maglor: *cringetwitches*
Feanor: *SLAMS THE DOOR*
Feanor: *kicks it for good measure*
Feanor: *then? Goes to do what his ..... Mandos damned son told him to*
Caranthir: *looks up at the ceiling, sighing* ...I'm sorry, Maglor.I wanted to..snap her out of it.
Maglor: *still cringetwitching, but manages to whisper* ...it is not your fault...it is an insult...to the both of you...returned like this...and an insult to me, as well. It is not of your doing.
Caranthir: *sighs, and comes over to her brother*
Maglor: *has distinct feeling that last time he tried to take a 'swim' in the ocean, should have filled pouches on his belt with more rocks*
Caranthir: *stops in front of him!*
Maglor: *could only find pebbles, and stupid waves kept washing him back on shore >.<*
Caranthir: ...*throws arms around him and hugs!*
Maglor: *....* *blinks one eye open past the wincetwitching and...hugs*
Maglor: *says softly* ...perhaps I should sail now, and...if I make it to Aman...I can ask them to have mercy on you both.
Caranthir: *shakes head* You're mad.
Maglor: ...I am...but the only other choice is that I find bigger rocks and try again. Then I can go wait and be a pest, as I will have plenty of time to ask repetatively until something is done.
Caranthir: *lets go and rubs her temple* I'm going to be blunt. That's stupid, brother. *starts to pace* There has to be other ways. something we can do, to prove ourselves, and be free of these accursed bodies.
Maglor: ...those are the only two choices I see, but even so...they would take time. And I would have you be yourselves, as you are meant to be. Even the Valar would not dare put a male into a female's body...its just...wrong.
Caranthir: *shakes her head* Help us, but help us a different way. I doubt the valar will look kindly upon you taking your own life.
Maglor: I think, by now, they are likely accustomed to my attempts, even from afar.
Maglor: You were always more shrewd than I, brother. By what other means would you suggest something is done about this?
Caranthir: *smiles wrly* Let Feanor and I make our own choices and mistakes. And be very very patient with us, as we do so. I've..been trying very hard.
Ithiriel: *opened the door, like ninja, and is leaning against the doorframe* Or I could kill you.
Maglor: *siiiiiiighs*
Caranthir: I like my plan better. >.>
Maglor: *stares at...nothing in particular, only without any sort of dream-like expression*
Ithiriel: *stares at him* *still leaning*
Maglor: *says in a weary little voice* ...leaving you to your...own mistakes...will not get either of you back your bodies, either.
Maglor: But you... *looks at Caranthir* ...that is not your body, perhaps...you should be the messenger then, and let Ithiriel kill you.
Caranthir: This is my punishment, brother. For following that foolish oath, for leaving you to wander Arda alone for so long. That was your punishment, this is mine. *blinks*
Caranthir: *nods her head* All right then.
Maglor: *whispers* ...it is an insult, being stuck like that...isn't it?
Caranthir: On the condition you to get married. Today.
Ithiriel: *eyedarts*
Caranthir: *softly* I want to see my brother know joy again...
Maglor: *still whispering* ...no. I could not be wedded on the same day my brother stuck in a sister's body, is sent back to where he belonged...to ask, and you had better ask, for mercy and help.
Maglor: I will wait here, with Ithiriel, and with our father, and you had better not fail.
Caranthir: Then wed, and slay me on the morrow.
Maglor: *twitchy headshaking*
Maglor: I will wed Ithiriel, but not when I am in the midst of woe. That is why...I am telling you...to not fail.
Ithiriel: *twitches her jaw* *thinks she needs to have a bit more forethought here*
Caranthir: *looks around* we'll need something..to catch the blood.
Maglor: *shrugs and is staring very fixedly at Caranthir* ...you will go there, and fix this. And then, you will find a way to come back.
Caranthir: For our father first. Then our brothers. Then myself. Deal?
Maglor: *nods softly* ...deal.
Ithiriel: You are not .. serious...
Maglor: *slowly nods like he is...so...very...serious*
Ithiriel: ...meleth...
Caranthir: *strips, doesnt' want dress, er, ruined >.>**stands on a nappy blanket to catch the blood*
Ithiriel: *runs her hand through her hair* ....
Caranthir: The valar do not expect us to be perfect. And I do not expect this to be easy. At worse, I will have what I deserve.
Ithiriel: *looks at Caranthir* You will forgive me for this?
Caranthir: *smiles grimly* I already have.
Ithiriel: .... I am afraid that I did not... .... I was angry, and I do not think I meant my words. But if THIS will .... somehow help Maglor be happy.
Maglor: I will dispose of the body. *looks at Ithiriel* I will do this also, so you do not have to.
Ithiriel: *firmly* No.
Caranthir: No.
Caranthir: Not you, Maglor.
Ithiriel: *draws her sword* *shuts the door*
Ithiriel: .... In fact. .... I would like you to leave.
Ithiriel: *points at the door with her sword* I do not want you to watch this.
Caranthir: *agrees >.>*
Maglor: *exhales softly* It would not make much difference if I were to and... *casts a broken look at Caranthir*
Caranthir: *sighs, comes over, gives Maglor nudey!hugs*
Maglor: *doesn't care about the nudey bit, just hugs and whispers* ...you must come back.
Caranthir: I'll try. But you'll know when I've succeeded.
Maglor: ...I do not even care what promises you must make, either... *hugs tightly and lets go, then nods, looking over at Ithiriel*
Caranthir: Just make me lots of neices and nephews, and this will be even.
Maglor: I want to, yes...I do. *mumbles an apology to her and that he loves her, then apologizes again and...leaves the room* *goes to sit on the stairs, hugging himself with both arms*
Caranthir: *glances at Ithi* Sister...I am ready.
Ithiriel: ... *takes a deep breath, lets it out* This is only going to make him worse...
Ithiriel: And your father is going to kill me when he finds out.
Caranthir: I know you were not thinking when you suggested it. But I think it must have come to you for a reason.
Ithiriel: I said it so that...HE would...think. And this is what he thought of.
Caranthir: Let us just get this over with....
Ithiriel: *nods her head* *walks up,, takes her hand out of the sling, and rests it on her shoulder* *draws her into a hug* For what it's worth, I was beginning to love you.
Caranthir: You'll make a wonderful addition to the family. Make him happy. He's going to need you. *hugs her back*
Ithiriel: Do not fail. *pushes her sword up, through the ribcage, into the heart, as cleanly and swiftly as possible*
Caranthir: *gurks, fingers spasming and digging into Ithiriel's shoulders* I really do...respect and love him. *exhales one last time, and smiles* *slides to the ground, slumping over*
Ithiriel: *bends down, and pushes her eyes closed, then kisses her cheek* *cleans her sword off, bundles Caranthir up*
Caranthir: X.x
Maglor: *still sitting on the top step of the stairs, hugging himself and being very very blinky so he doesn't start crying right then and there*
Maglor's brain: *if it could make a face, it would be one of massive x_@-ness*
Ithiriel: *sheathes her sword, wraps Caranthir in another set of blankets, and a third*
Maglor: *is way too twitchy to sit still, stands up, paces a little bit, then...very softly knocks on the door*
Ithiriel: *grunts, starts trying to pick the body up*
Maglor: *knocks again* ...Ithiriel... *heard the grunt, lets out a shuddering exhale*
Ithiriel: *calmly* Open the door, and close your eyes.
Maglor: *does open the door, but fails miserably at trying to close his eyes...looks...simultaneously 'out of it' and woeful at the same time*
Ithiriel: *walks past him, carrying Caranthir in her arms* I will take care of this.
Maglor: No. *takes the body from her* I will...take care of this part...but...I do not think...I want to...bury her, alone. We will need a cart.
Ithiriel: It would be better if you were not involved, at all.
Maglor: It is my brother...even if this was only a shell he was in for but a small while.
Maglor: I am not going to let either of us...do this alone. *now really looks like he's going to cry* Please, Ithiriel.
Ithiriel: .... The law in this city...is not going to care about the circumstances... *closes her eyes*
Ithiriel: ...fine.
Maglor: *nods and looks frantic now that its DONE* ...should we bury this...or.... *says in a very faint little voice* ...the river?
Ithiriel: We will...burn her. I think she would have...wanted that...yes...
Maglor: ... *looks around, then...eyes the trunk where the pink leather is kept*
Ithiriel: *starts taking the winter clothing out of it*
Maglor: *sets down the...blanket bundle, and helps, then eyes the trunk, and eyes the "blanket bundle"...* I think...it...will fit.
Maglor: But we will need a cart. *umm...stuffs witch body into the trunk, then tries to close it*
Ithiriel: She.... She will fit...yes.... *sits on the trunk*
Maglor: *sits on it for a moment also, then...manages to get it locked* *looks up at her*
Ithiriel: Cart. Right. .... I'll....just go get one.
Ithiriel: *gets up, walks out the door*
Maglor: *chews on his lower lip after nodding that, yes, cart, body in trunk, father will probably put two and two together...is in...so much trouble, will just admit to doing whole thing, if he gets cornered and asked about it*
Maglor: *in meantime? is going to have good cry while sitting on the floor next to the trunk*
Ithiriel: *is mentally.... blank* *absolutely blank* *gets cart, drives it up to the inn, still blank, parks it, heads up the stairs, still blank*
Maglor: *is not blank, is despairing*
Ithiriel: *walks into the room, leans against the doorframe* *looks at him*
Maglor: *quietly weeping, unaware that she's there, and rubbing his face on his sleeve*
Ithiriel: *kneels beside him, and catches him in her arms*
Maglor: *hugs onto her and proceeds to have a less quiet cry with his face buried into her shoulder*
Ithiriel: *runs her fingers through his hair, and holds him against her*
Ithiriel: *rocks him, a bit*
Maglor: *clings onto her and then...eventually calms down a bit more, letting out a long, slow, but still faltering throughout, exhale*
Ithiriel: *rubs at his back a bit, squeezes him*
Maglor: *hugs her and then nods like he's got a grip on himself a bit more than usual, at least*
Ithiriel: *lets him go, and nods her head*
Ithiriel: *stands up, and starts tugging on the trunk*
Maglor: *stands also and begins dragging it out, so she can just...push it with her foot, if she needs to, and its easier on her*
Ithiriel: *would do all the work for him, if she could* *helps, as much as she can*
Maglor: *draaaaags it into the hallway, then kathunk-thunk-thunk draaaaags the trunk down the stairs and toward the door*
Trunk: *slides on down without help =D*
Ithiriel: *nearly tumbles down after it*
Maglor: *nearly knocked over by it, but is left guiding it down, then drags it over to the door, opens the door, tries to hold it open while dragging the trunk out*
Ithiriel: *gets the door for him*
Maglor: *drags the trunk out, then sees the cart, tries to haul the trunk up onto the cart x_X*
Ithiriel: *helps him pick the trunk up, and get it into the cart*
Trunk: *goes k'tunk into the cart and stays put*
Maglor: *whispers to her* ...where will we say we are going?
Ithiriel: *climbs up into the cart...is so going to hate herself for the work she's putting her hand through, later...and sighs* We are going to Pelargir.
Maglor: *climbs up onto the cart as well, nods a little*
Maglor: *takes the reins and...off they go, two elves and a dead witch in a trunk*
Trunk: *shifts a bit*
Maglor: ... *looks over at Ithiriel, then figures it was just jarred because of the jerking of the cart, keeps things rolling*
Ithiriel: *knows she's really dead, just keeps driving*
Guard: *stops them at the gate!&
Ithiriel: *waves at the guard* Just going on a quick trip with my friend here to Pelargir.
Maglor: *nods to the guard*
Guard: Quick trip. *nods jots that down* What's with the trunk?
Maglor: .... *not a blank look, more one of utter complete sereneness while...he hides thinking about the answer to that*
Ithiriel: *shrugs* Our things are in the trunk. And some breakables, I've got them wrapped up in a blanket.
Maglor: *nods*
Guard: *nods* May I look inside?
Guard: *sheepish look* Steward's orders.
Maglor: *tells the guard in old old quenya, just to confuse him* ...no, you may not, my instruments are in there as well, and I do not want them harmed.
Guard: *blinks* What did he say?
Maglor: *continues, in a benevolent and calm way* I will not have you detuning them.
Ithiriel: *glances at Maglor, and back at the guard* He says you may not, his instruments are in there, they are very old, and delicate, and he does not want you harming them ... exposure to the air detunes them.
Maglor: The strings are very old gut, and brittle.
Ithiriel: He is a very old elf, from across the sea, and we are expected in Pelargir so that he can play there.
Guard: *fretbounces in place* But the Steeeeward! He'll flay me alive!
Maglor: *says calmly* It is likely the last time I will play them amongst mortals, if I chose to sail, finally.
Ithiriel: It is his last time playing them amongst mortals, he may be sailing soon. I work for Faramir, he would not mind this special case.
Maglor: *stares at the guard fretbouncing, in the manner of elves, like...'aren't you a quaint and curious creature.'*
Guard: *fretfret* *marks on his paper* Okayinstruments. >.>
Guard: *boromirwillkillhimifhefindsout*
Ithiriel: *winks at the guard* It will be our secret. I appreciate this. *heads out!*
Maglor: *nods to the guard, then looks forward, like he's ready to leave*
Guard: *bounces from foor to foot, antsy like*
Ithiriel: *heads off down the road, like la la la, casual*
Maglor: *sitting next to her, in perfect little picture of elven aloofness, until they're out of view and hearing, then sighs and his shoulders slump down*
Guard: *gets back to work*
Ithiriel: *keeeeeps driving, as fast as she can*
Maglor: ...we are not actually going to Pelargir, are we.
Ithiriel: *shakes her head*
Maglor: *nods* I trust you know of a place, then.
Ithiriel: *nods her head*
Maglor: *is looking over at her* ...I should have been the one to do that, not you. I'm sorry.
Ithiriel: *shakes her head* *turns of the road*
Maglor: *sighs and looks miserable*
Ithiriel: *whispers* Your hands are stained enough. His blood did not need to be on them. *keeps driving*
Maglor: *says under his breath* ...his blood did not need to be on yours, either. I hope they will show pity on him, and...this is not all just some foul mistake, that will leave us here, to fade away together.
Maglor: *puts an arm around her*
Ithiriel: *shakes her head* You were the one who suggested it, but my hands carried it out. You should still be able to sail.
Maglor: I will not go, without you.
Ithiriel: *falls silent* *turns a bit, keeps driving*
Maglor: *falls silent also*
Travelling: *goes for some time, until they find a clearing by the river*
Ithiriel: *hops down, walks over to a stone placed in the clearing, and presses her hand against it*
Maglor: *gets down and stands next to the cart, waiting*
Ithiriel: *walks back to the cart, and starts trying to unload the trunk*
Maglor: *stops her, and unloads it for her, then drags it over toward the stone*
Trunk: *doesn't fall over and spill open!*
Maglor: *that's probably a good thing, but, is not sure if he should even ask Ithiriel how they're going to go about burning the body*
Maglor: *in the trunk, or do they have to open it and take the body out x_X*
Ithiriel: *starts collecting some kindling around the area*
Ithiriel: *comes back, builds up a kindling tower, grabs up some dry grasses, puts them in the center, then starts grinding a stick into them and blowing*
Trunk: *sits there. Waiting. Lurking. Like there's a body inside or something*
Maglor: *is...not sure what to do at this point, and...doesn't want to pester Ithiriel unnecessarily, so is waiting for...some hint or instruction or...anything*
Ithiriel: *isn't going to give him one, is working on a fire, very painfully* There. *nods her head, as the grass takes to flame, feeds it a bit more grass, then lets it burn through the kindling*
Maglor: ... *looks distraught while looking from her, to the trunk, back to her again*
Ithiriel: *rocks back on her haunches, watches the fire catch the trunk* I think...if you can sing...he would have liked a song...even a sad one....
Maglor: *thinks, for a moment, then starts to sing one of the old laments he had sung to the sea, about his brothers, and somehow manages to sing clearly throughout it*
Song: *most beautifully heartbreaking thing. Ever*
Ithiriel: *eventually gets up, and stands next to him*
Maglor: *is song of woe, naturally, and is heavy on the regret now, since is thinking he's not only cursed himself...but now has cursed future wife also* *takes hold of her hand? as he finishes the song*
Ithiriel: *squeezes his hand* *stares into the flames* *still...blank*
Maglor: *finishes finally, and watches also...in a old, weary, faded out sort of way*
Fire: *burns for some time, until the trunk and all within it, is reduced to ash*
Ithiriel: *just...stares*
Maglor: *watched the whole thing, even some of the ashes skittering away, then dares to speak* ...we can not go back to the city, yet.
Fire: *eventually becomes just a dim memory*
Ithiriel: *shakes her head* No...we cannot...
Ithiriel: We must wait until the shift changes.
Maglor: *nods* We might as well go to Pelargir then. *looks over at her, then turns more to face her, and carefully holds her other hand in his own so he can look it over*
Ithiriel: *winces, a bit*
Maglor: *sighs* ...perhaps they might have some salve there, and some bandages.
Ithiriel: *takes her hand back* It will be fine.
Maglor: ... *tries not to stare at her in that kicked puppy sitting in a mudpuddle sort of ways, fails for the most part* *lets go of her other hand, and folds both arms over himself*
Maglor: ...we ruin everything we touch. *turns to go back to the cart*
Ithiriel: ...I am... sorry. I.... *rubs at her face* He told me...that he loved, and respected you. He told me...you would need me.....
Ithiriel: *stops him, pulls him into a hug*
Maglor: *blinks, then...hugs onto her, possessively, like he doesn't want something to happen that will...cause them to be parted*
Ithiriel: *squeezes him, tightly*
Maglor: *says, after a very long moment* ...I would rather fade away here, with you, than ever lose you...
Ithiriel: I thought...that you would hate me for this...
Maglor: *shakes his head* ...no, no...I do not...
Ithiriel: *buries her face against him*
Maglor: *holds tight* ...I could not ever hate you, Ithiriel.
Ithiriel: *shakes, a bit, then forces herself to calm down* *nods her head* Pelargir is...really, too far away. Let us just...hide in some trees somewhere, for a few hours...
Maglor: *pets a hand over her hair and down her back, then nods in agreement* I think it better, if you pick the hiding spot.
Ithiriel: *nods her head* *lets him go, so that she can climb back into the cart*
Maglor: *kisses her first, but gently, almost to reassure her, and then helps her back into the cart, before climbing up, next to her*
Ithiriel: *rides a bit, back the way they came, then finds a nice clump of trees, points*
Maglor: *wistfully smiles a little, at the pointing, then nods like that looks like a good spot*
Ithiriel: *heads over to it, parks the cart, jumps down again*
Maglor: *follows suit, looking around*
Ithiriel: *pulls him over to a little clearing with soft grass, sits*
Maglor: *sits next to her, then sort of, huddles up and hugs onto her, so his cloak is covering them both a bit more*
Ithiriel: *pulls him against her* I think you need to let yourself break down, now, Meleth. *says this, gently*
Maglor: ... *looks like he's considering it, or is about to, can't seem to make his mind up which it is, then shakes his head and whispers to her* ...you first.
Ithiriel: *shakes her head*
Maglor: *nuzzles his face into the side of her neck and exhales* ...I already wept...but you haven't yet...
Ithiriel: It is...not something I can just turn back on, when I get like this. *shakes her head* I will cry, when I remember how to feel. Besides, I am supposed to be there for you. This is much, much harder on you, I know.
Maglor: *sighs softly* I will cry yet again, and mourn him, should I not see him as he should be, ever again...but not now...I wept in your arms, already...and now...now I feel worn and weary inside.
Ithiriel: *runs her fingers through his hair* I will do whatever...I can, to make you feel less worn, and weary....
Maglor: *face nuzzles against her neck again and says softly* ...you already have, after it was over, and you already are, now.
Maglor: I feel less so, when we are in an embrace.
Ithiriel: *nods her head, embraces him even more closely*
Maglor: *relaxes, gradually, then starts to lean enough that they finally end up laying in the grass, still holding onto her*
Ithiriel: *curls up with him, in the grass*
Maglor: *after a long moment says in a voice weighed heavily by regret* ...I love you, and hope you will forgive me, if I have doomed you.
Ithiriel: *nuzzles at his face a bit* When I first realised I loved you, I realised I would have to accept any doom, as well.
Maglor: ...if this is so...then perhaps...we can send our elflings to Aman, or the older ones that choose to go, that is...if they are old enough, by then...then we might live out the remains of our days in the forest, together.
Ithiriel: ...let us...wait, and see what happens, first...but yes, I would wish our children to sail. In Celeborn's care, they would not come to harm.
Maglor: ...yes....yes, that would...be a good thing. *falls quiet after kissing the side of her face, and turning his head just enough to stare up at the sky*
Ithiriel: I was never.. going to kill you...
Ithiriel: I should never have even said that... *sighs*
Maglor: ...I should not have even thought it.
Ithiriel: ...I am not sure why you did...and I am not sure why I did it...it just seemed like...if it was all resolved, then they'd be back, as elves, right? And...I think that would make you happy...
Maglor: I think...or I thought...it would make you happy, also...since I would have had to run off, every time it looked like a snowflake was falling.
Ithiriel: It would have made me happy, only because you would not be worrying, so very much.
Maglor: ...if he comes back, as he should be...then I will worry less. -_-
Maglor: It saddened me, that they were trapped in those bodies. I feared they would be harmed, and I feared losing them if I did not go to see what was wrong.
Ithiriel: *caresses his face with her hand* You will not have to watch them...die again either, if they come back, and that will make you very happy indeed.
Maglor: *looks into her eyes* ...I want you to be happy, also.
Ithiriel: I will be happy, when I see the color of our newborn child's eyes. *chuckles*
Ithiriel: *andwhenmyfingerseverbendagain* *andwhenmymemoryforgetswhatIjus tdid*
Maglor: *kisses her then smiles?*
Ithiriel: *kisses a bit....isn't really in the mood for kissing right now* *curls against him, lets everything sink in, and .. decides to pass out, because ... ow* *does so!*
Maglor: *does too, well...as close as he can get to passing out, at least*