Forgotten harper, singer doomed. (gold_cleaver) wrote in untold_logs, @ 2008-07-11 05:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | caranthir, ithiriel, maglor |
Who: Ithiriel, Caranthir, Maglor, Grimbeorn (npc), pissed!off!orcs.
What: Talky stuff, smut is only shown in <333-meter so its otherwise nonexistently glossed over for public consumption, interuptions, more talky, then that goes downhill again, elves go to Ithilien for some keeling, bears and orcs happen, and finally ends with a surprise present at the v. v. end o' ze log! It amuses me. Greatly. Oh, and hi, but...ouch, mebbeh? XD
When: Present, after all the other stuffs.
Ithiriel: *has brought her weaving out into the main room so that she can weave while Maglor writes, and is trying to figure out how to talk to him about something*
Maglor: *is...staring at the word 'the' again, like it will magically bleed ink over and form a second word if he stares at it hard enough*
Ithiriel: *hums a bit, while weaving* *has discovered that she rather LIKES weaving*
Maglor: ... *discovered that writer's block? sucks.* *is being quietly stubborn though*
Maglor: *wishes his brain wouldn't feel like it had a band of trumpeters marching through it, and every single one of them is playing a different note x_@*
Ithiriel: *is even working a pattern into the cloth, for the purposes of him to wear*
Ithiriel: *looks up at him, after finishing through one more rep of the pattern* Meleth, you have been staring at that one word all day.
Maglor: *sighs and puts that paper aside, takes up quill, sighs and...writes out the word 'the' on the second piece of paper* ...yes, I know...
Maglor: *stares at that piece of paper, since...well, it didn't get much better on the second try*
Ithiriel: It is the first one you have ever written, is it not? You probably have several ideas, all of which are trying to descend on you at once.
Maglor: Well, yes...it is, but... *sighs and sets the quill aside again, before fidgeting* ..you are probably right.
Ithiriel: *sets down her shuttle and walks over to him, picking up the first sheet of paper with "the" written on it, and grabbing up a quill* Here. Tell me of the first idea.
Maglor: *almost silent sigh*
Maglor: ...that is the problem. I haven't any. *looks miserable* It is supposed to be a comedy.
Maglor: ...a black comedy. *look of near cry woe of frustration*
Ithiriel: *thinks for a moment, nods her head* Why is it supposed to be a black comedy?
Maglor: ...because...otherwise...everyone at the end would die, and it would be a tragedy.... *makes the fingers twiddly motion near the side of his head to indicate there's a pile-up happening and its a real mess*
Maglor: I should rewrite that play that I burned, where everyone, even the dog, dies...
Maglor: ...do not...know...why there was a dog... *makes a 'eeeeh' noise in the back of his throat and stands up so can pace-fidget*
Ithiriel: *tilts her head to one side* So there is one idea piling on top of another, start at the bottom of the pile, and work up, and simply tell me what is there.
Maglor: ...no...no, no...nononoooo...not ideas...just...messy thoughts, bits and pieces...and things that could or could not happen...or... *stops pacing and smiles?*
Ithiriel: So start, at the bottom, and work up. Just... try it.
Maglor: *smiles and says through his teeth?* ...do not...know...where bottom is?
Maglor: *makes the somewhat stressed out 'eeeeh' noise in a higher pitch and goes to open a window so he can breathe*
Ithiriel: *makes a motion with her hand, and sets the quill down* *walks over to him, and hugs him*
Maglor:*sigh exhaaaaaales*
Ithiriel: Alright, it is alright, I did not mean to stress you more.
Ithiriel: *kisses his ear and runs her fingers through his hair*
Maglor: ...no, I know...you are...just trying to help...thank you?
Maglor: *relaxes a smidge*
Ithiriel: *nuzzles at him, and hugs him a bit more* I think.... that if you force your mind to take one course, especially if it is a course you were not entirely enthusiastic about...
Ithiriel: It will shatter every which way like a stream hitting the rocks, instead of simply flowing naturally.
Maglor: ...yes, perhaps this is true... *nods a bit, like that makes sense*
Ithiriel: So do not sit at the table, and think "I must write a black comedy". Simply sit, with the quill and hand, and write whatever comes to mind, even if it absolutely does not make sense.
Maglor: *nodnods* It will turn into a tragedy much like what I burned, where everyone...even the dog...died.
Ithiriel: So let it be a tragedy, where everyone, even the dog, dies.
Ithiriel: People need to watch plays like that, as well, sometimes. It makes them realise that their lives are not so terrible.
Maglor: ...yes...yes, you're right...I should...do that. *smiles slightly*
Ithiriel: *softly* But only if you wish to. *caresses at his face* I think you.... *shakes her head* ... write what your heart tells you to write, not what I say, or Caranthir, or anyone else.
Maglor: ...I think I wish to. *smiles softly at her*
Ithiriel: Can we speak on something else, before you get drawn into it? *softly, still*
Maglor: *blinks at her like o.0* *pauses* ....yes?
Ithiriel: ... As it does not look likely, that Caranthir will marry anyone, and I am not sure you were serious about witholding neices.... *chews her lip*
Maglor: ........ *SIGHS*
Maglor: I told him it does not matter what I think. -_-
Ithiriel: But it does matter, and in any case, they are not ready to wed eachother. She is injured, and fighting off fell tainted wounds from ages ago, and he is not ready, either.
Ithiriel: ... so I am wondering, if we might think about when ... *eyedarts*
Maglor: ...when....when? Oh. WHEN. *blinkblinks and stares at her with round eyes*
Ithiriel: .... ah.. well... nevermind, then.
Maglor: *fidgets uncontrollably* ...uhm...no, no...I think...its better to...yes, think on when...I mean, you want to think about that, don't you?
Ithiriel: It is not a subject you are comfortable with. *points at his hands*
Maglor: *says in a very hushed voice* ...I just...I worry...you know...little pieces of us...end up being little elfling...and what if...I think of the wrong thing and...
Ithiriel: You will not think of the wrong thing. *caresses at his face again*
Ithiriel: The music that creates your soul is some of the most beautiful music I have ever heard, and it is a piece of that, that creates children .... and I cannot imagine that it would go wrong.
Maglor: *looks worried about it, nontheless, but nods...and is really hoping that any crazy tendencies are curbed by her*
Ithiriel: *thinks the crazy is part of what he's gone through, not necessarily part of his genetic makeup, and YES, knows the rest of the Feanorians are a bit unhinged, when she thinks this*
Ithiriel: I know you keep saying there is no rush.
Maglor: :/ *nods*
Maglor: ...well...when do you want...to...do that? I mean, I should ask you, since...you have to carry an elfling around inside of you, for quite a while... *apologetic look?*
Ithiriel: I would really rather it were sooner, than later.... *looks down a bit* And I do not mind that I would have to carry him or her around for quite some time. *is almost looking forward to it, actually*
Ithiriel: But I wish to know what you think, besides the fears you have.... or if there are other fears you have... this cannot be my decision alone/
Maglor: ...even if...I were to...ride to the south, at some point? If...I meant...if I needed to...or felt I needed to...that would mean...you could not go with me... *remorseful look*
Ithiriel: *ponders that for a moment* ... That is a very good point.
Ithiriel: Perhaps after that?
Maglor: Yes. *nods and smiles with much more ease* After that.
Ithiriel: Promise me. *smiles at him* *caresses at him*
Maglor: *cuddle-caresses her* I promise, Ithiriel, that after all that is over...we will have the first of...many, many children.
Maglor: *kisses to seal that promise?*
Ithiriel: *kisses, and cuddles at him, and feels MUCH more relieved and happy*
Maglor: *will probably be more and more scatterbrained the more little elflings are running around XD*
Ithiriel: *is planning on trying to space them out a bit, so that her husband does not go completely insane*
Maglor: *some might debate with her that he's already been there, and done that, and gone back a few more times?*
Ithiriel: *will love him anyway.. ?*
Maglor: *loves her, and is giving her kisses and love-nibbles on her neck? >.>*
Ithiriel: *is purring, loves it when he does that* *is pondering distraction from writing altogether*
Maglor: *is not a biter, is a love-nibbler* *mental sigh*
Maglor: *thinks a distraction is...ooo a good idea*
Maglor: *is very distracted by the purring already*
Maglor: *yes, yes, good idea, lures wife into bedroom but does not close bedroom door, because is...distracted in a GOOD way?*
Ithiriel: *yes, very good idea, this distraction idea, very very distracted, and plans on happily distracting him for a good long while, with ... happy, naked things*
Maglor: *yes, is getting right to work on the distracting naked part right now*
Happy Naked Distraction Smut: *happens?*
Happy Naked Distraction Smut: *is sooo happening.*
Caranthir: *is forunately not going to interrupt them while they have happy naked time**but he's headed in that general direction*
Maglor: *nice, has time to indulge in happy naked fun time with wife to prove that he loves her...a whoooooole lot <3*
Caranthir: *plods along*
Maglor: *still busy <3*
Ithiriel: *definitely, definitely, believes he loves her a whooooooooole lot*
Caranthir: *would get even more depressed*
Maglor: *oh yes, its a whoooooooole LOT <3*
Caranthir: *plodplods into the citadel*
Ithiriel: *proving she loves him back a whooooooooooooole lot, too <3*
Caranthir: *plods plods towards brother's room*
Maglor: *whoooooooooooooole lots of love <333*
Caranthir: *PLOD*
Ithiriel: *<33333*
Maglor: *busy? <3* ... *noisily busy? <333333*
Ithiriel: *very noisily busy! <333333*
Caranthir: *stares at the door**eyetwitches**even MORE depressed*
Maglor: *<3333!!!!!* ... *<33333333!!!1!*
Ithiriel: *<33333333333!!!!!!!!!* *giggles*
Maglor: *is like ^^*
Ithiriel: *glowy happy like the sun* *giggles some more*
Maglor: *glowy happy of warm-fuzzy aftermath!contentment*
Caranthir: *can FEEL that, almost kinda*
Caranthir: *stares at the door*
Caranthir: *shrugs, opens the door, and walks into their bedroom* I am pleased to see you are done.
Ithiriel: *wasn't even under the blankets! D: * *blushes from head to toe VERY OBVIOUSLY and starts trying to .... pull them up over them or ... something omE*
Maglor: *pales, has look of o.O; on his face* *looks...mortified* *then turns just as red as Ithiriel is*
Caranthir: *rolls his eyes*
Maglor: *is in scurry fluster fit of trying to grab onto blankets too, to hide under*
Ithiriel: *finally manages to get a blanket over them* *looks at Caranthir* Did no one ever KNOCK in your household!?
Maglor: *which is...well...probably not helping her trying to do same thing* *phews when hidden* *blinks out from under edge of blanket*
Caranthir: No.
Maglor: ...well...no...I knocked...usually frantically...to be let back in...they usually just laughed and... *still red, looks at Caranthir* ...did someone else try to burn the theatre down?
Caranthir: I just need a few moments of your time, then you can return to your celebrations.
Maglor: *makes with the shoo-wavy handmotion for Caranthir to wait in the other room while scrambling for robe happens*
Ithiriel: *wonders if he wants both of them, or just her husband >.>*
Caranthir: *disinclined to move*
Maglor: *isn't sure either, is waving like 'hi? shoo? get out of the room already?!'*
Maglor: *grit-toothed SMILE at Caranthir* ...getoutoftheroom.
Maglor: ...sowecangetdressed.
Caranthir: I need to find something that makes me feel alive again.
Maglor: Watching us, is not going to do that...and I am...very...not...comfortable...right now?
Maglor: Not COMFORTABLE...right NOW?
Ithiriel: For the love of Eru, Moryo, just.... get out for a second.
Maglor: Please? x_@
Caranthir: *twitches and walks out*
Ithiriel: ... or .. Caranthir... or.. whatever it is we are calling you. *eyedarts*
Maglor: *kisses quickly then scrambles!* Caranthir. I have not used any such nicknames in... *falls out of bed onto the floor with kerthud and stands up, throwing on a robe* ...a long time.
Caranthir: *sits down in the other room and folds his arms*
Ithiriel: Yes, I .. picked the other name up from .... she who shall not be named. *nods her head, throws a dress on after stumbling out of bed and nearly hitting the floor herself*
Ithiriel: *smooths her hair, heads out of the bedroom*
Maglor: *makes a GAH face at she-who-shall-not-be-named, and nearly got stuck trying to slip one arm through robe-sleeve, fixes probably with much flappiness, and then looks...messily presentable*
Caranthir: *muttering to self*
Maglor: *walks out of the bedroom also, and has bed-head, since his hair is a fine sexily disheveled mess*
Ithiriel: *which his wife finds extremely sexy >.>* *takes a seat, with her loom* So.
Maglor: *has not noticed, is trying to look elvlishly aloof and not paranoid because brother just got more of a view than he should have gotten* *sits down* Yes. So.
Maglor: *likes long robe sleeves, since can hide his hands and his hand fidgeting under them, while trying to look lalalaElf-like*
Caranthir: *just launches into the condensed version of his head haleth talk without mentioning that he had a figment of his imagination talking to him and just presents it as stuff he's been thinking about*
Maglor: *is finding its better to say nothing?*
Maglor: *but does look suitably woe!doom!etc all over again*
Ithiriel: *ponders* *sighs* *is going to have to go distract him all over again* ... I think, you have some hard questions to answer.
Ithiriel: The necklace you crafted for me is gorgeous ... you took no joy in making it?
Caranthir: I did but...
Maglor: *can't sit still, just looks troubled*
Caranthir: It does not..fulfill me.
Maglor: *stands up, pace fidgets, then grabs hold of his harp, takes it over to Caranthir, and just about drops it in his lap* Play it.
Ithiriel: *nods her head, softly, agreeing with her husband*
Maglor: *gives Caranthir an imploring look*
Caranthir: ...what?
Maglor: Start playing something on it.
Caranthir: *looks at his brother like he's insane*
Caranthir: *sighs, picks it up and plucks a few, slightly grating notes*
Maglor: ... *folds arms, tucking his hands in while doing so*
Maglor: Keep going.
Caranthir: *twitches and eye and plucks a few more notes, which are slightly less grating but sound irritated*
Ithiriel: ...... *ponders* Nay.
Maglor: Softer.
Caranthir: *Tries softer*
Maglor: *nods* That's better.
Ithiriel: *stands up, while Caranthir tries to play the harp better, and walks into the bedroom ... rummages around a bit, then returns with the case that holds Maglor's flute*
Maglor: *goes and rummages through papers, then comes back with music notation, looks over at the flute, takes the harp, sets it aside, then holds out the paper* You will play this.
Maglor: On that. *points at the flute with other hand*
Caranthir: I am not a musician >.<
Ithiriel: *sets it on the table, and opens it up* Yes. On this.
Maglor: It is something you have not tried.
Ithiriel: Being a musician does not make you any less than you are. Just as being a healer does not make me any worse with a sword.
Ithiriel: *puts the flute together for him, and hands it over*
Maglor: *nods and holds out the paper with the notes for a dance number on it*
Caranthir: You two are communicating in your minds -_-
Ithiriel: ... Actually, we are not. *laughs*
Maglor: *shakes his head* Actually, no, we are not. *smiles apologetically at brother*
Caranthir: seems like it. *picks up the flute, studies the notation for a minute or two until he understands what it is, and starts to play*
Maglor: If we were, she'd be burning things down right now, too. Or trying to. *quiets and listens*
Caranthir: *closes his eyes and..really starts to get into it*
Ithiriel: *..... smiles*
Maglor: *ignores one off-pitch note but...the rest of it is definitely how it was in his head, so sits down, takes up the harp, and accompanies*
Maglor: *since that way, won't have to correct by saying so, since Caranthir will hear if a note's off slightly*
Ithiriel: *hums along, tapping a rythmn out with them by the click of her shuttle on the loom*
Caranthir: *corrects himself as he plays*
Caranthir: *but just in general loses himself in the music*
Maglor: *gradually ups the tempo toward the end, as intended*
Caranthir: *follows along easily*
Ithiriel: *was even humming along, toward the end, while weaving*
Caranthir: *finishes, with a sigh*
Ithiriel: *stops weaving to wipe a few tearsd out of her eyes*
Maglor: *hugs his harp and sighs a little, glancing over at Caranthir* ...how did that make you feel?
Caranthir: As though I've emptied my soul for the world to see.
Maglor: ...is that a good thing, or a bad thing? *winces just slightly*
Caranthir: I am not sure. I feel lighter, but I feel...raw.
Ithiriel: .... it may be an uncomfortable thing, but ..... you are glowing.
Maglor: *states very gently* ...perhaps it is not right for you, then. What else is there, that you have not tried?
Caranthir: I am not sure I like the flute, and the harp is too soft. A lute has too many strings, and the dulcimer is not portable enough. *thinking through all the instruments he's seen his brother play**shrugs* I do not know.
Maglor: *debates saying anything, then says in a very hard to hear whisper* You would be better suited to drums.
Ithiriel: There is the horn .... there are instruments played in the East... yes, there are drums, and even ones that create seperate sounds.
Ithiriel: The east has ... something like a lute, but it makes harder sounds, and has less strings.
Maglor: But if it is something that leaves you feeling raw, perhaps music is not the answer. *sighs*
Ithiriel: I hesitate to disagree..
Ithiriel: But ...
Caranthir: Perhaps I need to feel raw.
Ithiriel: ... yes.
Maglor: *quiets*
Ithiriel: It isn't like ... it doesn't happen with music, for me. Or singing. I pour myself into shooting the bow, or healing. But sometimes, you throw yourself into it to empty all the feelings you have into it.
Caranthir: ......
Ithiriel: That will leave you raw after, but it is easier to see yourself that way. Easier for others to see you, and easier to think ... and then you know, also, that you are a real, living thing.
Maglor: Yet, should it not be something to...give him joy...? *just winces and shakes his head and is quiet again*
Ithiriel: *Laughs* Joy and Sorrow, they are sides of a coin.
Ithiriel: I take a great deal of joy, from healing someone, even when I feel raw.
Maglor: *sighs but is otherwise quiet and doormattish*
Ithiriel: But as I have seen it, from watching Maglor play, and from watching others. You will create joy with music, you will get release for your sorrows from music, it is ... a good thing.
Caranthir: I will have to...play more, to know.
Ithiriel: *eyedarts, and goes back to her work* *didn't mean to over-step Maglor's territory and feels rather bad about that*
Maglor: *doesn't want to start another argument or debate, so is avoiding it by being avoidant, that's all*
Caranthir: What do you think, Maglor? *seems...insanely interested in that*
Maglor: *stares at Caranthir like 'why are you asking ME again?!'*
Maglor: ...I think...that whatever you think...is...good?
Craanthir: You are the expert at this! And my brother. I would..like your opinion. *grits teeth* Please.
Maglor: *looks traumatized*
Ithiriel: *mentally prepares to take anything flammable away from any of them*
Maglor: ...I think...that...if it interests you...that...perhaps it is something to...pursue... *winces and is thinky* ...but...it is something that is meant to bring you joy...or...
Maglor: ...perhaps I am not thinking of what you explained...the right way...ask Ithiriel. *there, yes, ask the wife!*
Caranthir: I am asking you >.< Do you not do anything, to express your emotions?
Maglor: >.< *squeaks then opens mouth and says LOUDLY* Yes, I do, I WEEP OFTEN and RIP OUT MY HAIR and DO STUPID SELF DESTRUCTIVE THINGS!
Caranthir: I MEANT CREATIVELY!
Maglor: That IS creative.
Maglor: *stands up, takes flute, and goes to put it away*
Ithiriel: *looks up from her weaving at the two of them*
Caranthir: >.<
Maglor: *grumblemumbles as he walks into the bedroom, puts the flute down, and tries to regain composure*
Ithiriel: .... He writes music, and he plays it, as well.
Ithiriel: *calmly*
Maglor: *could kiss wife right now for saying that, since...well...had a snap crackle pop moment*
Ithiriel: I have generally found, that your family needs something to do with their hands, to keep them happy.
Caranthir: I do not know what I need to DO, nor where to start to find what I need to do >.<
Ithiriel: If woodcrafting and jewelry crafting and metalwork are not enough, perhaps it is because it is harder for you to put a part of yourself into them .... music is easier ...
Caranthir: Once, when I hunted, when I took pride in the kill..
Ithiriel: So I would suggest.... trying a few instruments, besides the harp, and the flute. The drums, next, or the hunt.
Ithiriel: The way the woods speak to you, the way the wind whips around you, and knowing where everything is just by the smell and the sound and the presence of things. That may also work.
Ithiriel: It is not merely enough to make a thing, or do a thing ... I think. For you. You want to make a thing, or do a thing, that will help other people, or will accomplish something, that has a peice of you in it.
Caranthir: *sighs, nodding his head*
Ithiriel: *softly* But your playing, was exquisite, in what of you went into it.
Caranthir: It was terrible >.<
Ithiriel: *shakes her head* It was not.
Caranthir: -_-
Ithiriel: *looks at him* Your problem with life, is that you find nothing you are doing in it to be worth the point of living.
Maglor: *loudly sighs like he's exasperated, from where he is in the bedroom*
Ithiriel: And I seem to enjoy exasperating my husband. *chuckles*
Caranthir: That is my problem. Yes.
Maglor: You are not exasperating me. He is. >.<
Ithiriel: *bends back over her weaving* I will let you in on a secret. Neither did I. And I am much younger than you.
CAranthir: What did you find, and do not say love >.<
Ithiriel: *chuckles* Several things. Love was merely one of them. There is no cure-all for what ails you.
Ithiriel: You want to find joy, you want to live, but you have to be happy with what you have, first. What you are, who you are, where you live.
Caranthir: Then I am doomed -_-
Ithiriel: You have to learn to let yourself be open... I think that was the lesson that was hardest. Letting myself be open. I had closed myself up, like a fan, because it was easier than being hurt anymore.
Caranthir: *shakes his head*
Ithiriel: *shrugs* The music, and the hunt, will help to. Finding a reason to WANT to live again, is another thing.
Caranthir: Is not the desire to put in that effort enough?
Ithiriel: Absolutely.
Ithiriel: Being at the point of throwing yourself off of an extremely high city, and deciding to turn away, is another way of finding a reason. I do not suggest that one.
Ithiriel: *shakes her head* Watch the mortal children someday. They get such looks of awe on their faces, just watching a particularly beautiful sunset. Every day you get to watch the sun rise, and set, is a gift.
Ithiriel: We edhel fail in that we forget the simple things. *falls silent, gets into her work*
Caranthir: I used to remember the simple things. At least for a few, not even a year. *sighs*
Ithiriel: *whispers* It is harder, as we grow older, and even your brother forgets them. I have to remind him, frequently.
Caranthir: *shakes his head* It is not so simple as all that, I think.
Ithiriel: And sadly for you, I suppose, love was the last thing ... and it is not a heal-all, in any way. It simply is not. But it makes the world sweeter, when things get bitter.
Ithiriel: And I am not even speaking of the love Maglor and me share. Love for my friend, Gladharil. Love for my city, my King, the charge I was taking care of before I moved up here.
Ithiriel: *nods her head at her work, then squints, and sighs, and starts unravelling a bit*
Maglor: *if was not avoiding talking, would point out that he had nothing to do but watch plenty of sunsets, before -_-*
Caranthir: *nods his head solemnly, and leans forward a bit, resting his face on his hands*
Ithiriel: *gets back to work, after fixing it, with a bit of a sigh* You care about her enough to be thinking this through ... perhaps you aught to talk to her.
Ithiriel: I have found that while sometimes, Maglor is the venom, he is also the antidote. And I mean that in the most loving way possible.
Caranthir: This has nothing to -do- with her >.<
groan: *of frustration, comes out of bedroom*
Ithiriel: *snorts* As you say.
groan: *is not even a sexy groan of frustration, either* *puu.*
Caranthir: What is it, Maglor?
Ithiriel: Lie to us all if you wish, but do yourself the justice enough not to lie to yourself. *points out, while ... seriously, concentrating on her pattern now*
Maglor: *snappish* Nothing!
Caranthir: I will not be defined by another!
Ithiriel: Oh for Eru's sake.
Ithiriel: Do this for yourself, because you aught to, even if she was NOT part of the picture. But she is, and you know it.
Ithiriel: Every action I take is not defined by my love for Maglor, just because I am married to him. *snorts*
Caranthir: >.< I insist that I will not involve her.
Maglor: *pissily* Oh stop being STUPID, she's involved already!
Maglor: *picks up a pillow, throws it out the door, and paces while grumbling*
Ithiriel: And if you do not involve her, she will think you hate her, since I know you. You will avoid her entirely.
Maglor: *GRUMBLEMUMBLESlikecrazyelf*
Caranthir: I've already tried to push her away >.>
Ithiriel: ... I am sure at least one person in these rooms would be happy to hear that, but it will not be me. *shakes her head* *decides that she? has married into THE craziest, stupidest, most stubborn family ever*
Caranthir: It is for her own good.
Maglor: *grumbling reaches cresendo which...yes, might indicate it would be a good thing, if it was clear enough to be heard* *then again, would never claim he said any such thing about it being good or bad, if asked to clarify*
Ithiriel: *listens* *sighs* *puts her shuttle down* I am going for a walk, before I do something I will regret. *grabs her cloak, and her sword, and her bow and quiver, even though she can't use them, and walks out*
Caranthir: *sighs* She looked so..happy, and lightened, when I saw her today..
Maglor: >.<
Ithiriel: *pauses at the door* She looked happy, and lightened, and was looking at you, but you will push her away, will she still look happy then? *then? steps through door, SHUTS it*
Caranthir: >.<
Ithiriel: *goes for WALK*
Caranthir: *would break something in reach, hopefully Maglor grabbed his flute*
Maglor: *grabbed it, and had his harp too*
Maglor: *shrieks from the other room like he knows what's coming* DO NOT BREAK ANYTHING!
Caranthir: *punches the table >.<**then stands and paces* I am going to craft again. *calls out to his brother* Is there an instrument you particularly want?
Maglor: In fact....go. *comes out of bedroom, with both now-gloved hands flailing around in shooing way* Just...no, no thank you, goodbye...farewell...no instruments, go talk to your elf.
Ithiriel: *walks until she finds her HORSE* *saddles the horse up* *Goes for RIDE*
Caranthir: Nay >.<
Maglor: Knock next time, yes, that would be good. Go. *shooing hands of flailingness* Make yourself an instrument, yes, do that, AFTER you have spoken to her...yes, go do that...thank you for coming...
Caranthir: I mean to make YOU an instrument >.<*
Maglor: *goes while flailing and opens door, then flails arms in direction of out* ...no, no...you first...me last...thank you...the hallway looks very nice this time of day....goodbye.
Maglor: *STARES, then walks out into the hallway* *in a 'monkey see, monkey do' like maybe other monkey-elf will follow, much like when they point*
Caranthir: >___<
Maglor: *shrieks again, yes, SHRIEKED* Go talk to your elf!
hallway: *echoed shriek*
Caranthir: I will if you tell me what to MAKE YOU!!
Galadriel: *pokes her head out of her door* *arches a brow*
Maglor: LESS STRESSED and SOCIALLY AWKWARD, I'd like that very much, go make me that right now!
Maglor: *clams up when he sees Artanis, folds arms in hugging self way, stares at the corridor wall*
Caranthir: >.< *throws up hands, storms off!*
Maglor: *jittery-go-twitchy*
Galadriel: .... *smirks* *ducks back inside*
Maglor: *goes back into room, closes door, makes high-pitched noise of anxiety-freaked-outedness in his throat*
Ithiriel: *still RIDING*
Caranthir: *WALKS*
Maglor: *still freaking out*
Ithiriel: *can feel the freaking out* *tries sending calm his way?*
Ithiriel: *while still RIDING, because... is really kind of miffed at the entire situation*
Maglor: *can't be calm, wife is gone! GAH*
Ithiriel: *apologizes* *needs to go kill something* *needs to just ... mindlessly slash a sword at something, or stab at something, or put arrows into something... until this feeling goes away*
Maglor: >.< *okay, hates doing this since mind is jumbled mess of avalanche proportions but...* Where are you going, then?
Ithiriel: *winces* *stops her horse* ..... Out of the city. I will be back soon.
Maglor: *is trying not to get mind shrieky* ...why are you going out of the city? >.< *grabs hold of hair with BOTH hands*
Ithiriel: *sighs* Because anything I would shoot within the city I would get arrested for shooting?
Maglor: *now gets shrieky like is having panic attack* Why are you going to shoot things?! You can't DO that! I mean...it would be nice if you COULD but...you just...CAN'T!
Ithiriel: *has to stop riding* I can PRACTICE... and ... you do not need to shriek, I can hear you plain enough when you whisper...
Maglor: *if she's hearing anything right now, it would be the mental echo of that noise he makes when he's having an anxiety fit* *is rushing around, grabbing sword, cloak, and running out of the room in attempt to catch up*
Maglor: Couldn't you...PRACTICE...in the city? With targets? That don't bite?
Ithiriel: Targets do not bleed. *thinly, like the very very last of her patience? Is finally about to wear thin*
Maglor: ...why do they need to BLEED, though? Ithiiiiriel. x_@ *goes to get the horse, which is staring, helpfully, at him, while freaked out Elf is putting saddle on her in a frenzy*
Ithiriel: *isn't dignifying that with a response, instead has started RIDING again, out the gates, across the Pelannor, rideride.... needs to pick a direction*
Maglor: *of course, because is in panic hurry, only messes up even more, so it takes longer*
horse: *stares* *helpfully*
Maglor: *finally finishes, and goes riding off!*
Maglor: *makes it all the way to the gate* ... *blinks, looks around, then sighs like woe* ...you left the city, anyway, didn't you. *is mental voice of resignation*
Ithiriel: You followed me, didn't you.... *mental sigh* I am waiting out here?
Maglor: *rides then, until he catches up with her, then stops so he can give her the patented 'kicked puppy sitting in mud puddle' stare*
Maglor: *sighs out her name*
Ithiriel: *is still ANGRY and is completely immune to mud puddle stare* I am going in the direction of whichever way means I get to shoot something. If you wish to go SOUTH, then I will go that way. ><
Maglor: ...before we go, can I just point out.... *sighs and clams up*
Ithiriel: ... point out what? *more calmly*
Maglor: ...its probably nothing. *shrugs like 'wherever you're going is fine'*
Ithiriel: ... what were you going to say?
Maglor: *whispers and looks away* ...point out, how many elves have been injured by orcs, even when traveling in pairs, as of late.
Maglor: *starts the horse off in the direction of Ithilien* *at a very slow pace* *horse might as well be set on slug, instead of horse*
Ithiriel: *rides up to him, and puts a hand on his arm to stop him*
Maglor: *stops the horse, with a sigh*
Ithiriel: If you do not wish to do this, you do not have to...
Maglor: I am not a good mate. But I am not so bad a mate, that I would let you go, alone.
Ithiriel: I fear I am about to be an extremely horrible mate.
Maglor: ...no more horrible than I am.
Maglor: I am still not letting you go alone. -_-
Ithiriel: Eru... *shakes her head* I cannot go on a mindless killing spree through Orcs if you are watching. -_-
Maglor: *says simply in a softened tone of voice* I need the practice.
Ithiriel: *probably isn't ready to go on a mindless killing spree through orcs, anyway, but isn't stating this* *is instead stubbornly staring at him*
Maglor: *finally looks over at her*
Maglor: You really wish to do this, don't you.
Ithiriel: I am starting to lose the urge to do it, the longer I sit here. *sighs*
Ithiriel: Knowing our luck we will not find any orcs at all, and I will still not have had the pleasure of sinking an arrow into something by the time we returned.
Maglor: If you do not want me to watch you, then...as long as we are within hearing of one another, then that is at least well enough for me...or...yes, that could happen, too.
Maglor: I wish you did not feel the need to kill things, because you are frustrated with me...yet...I understand why you would be. I just do not want you to go, entirely, by yourself.
Ithiriel: It is not as if I would do injury to you, but I am as capable of getting frustrated as your brother or your father are, and I swear I was about to throw my loom at something. *sighs*
Maglor: ...that is a waste of a good loom, if you broke it.
Maglor: -_- *just nods, and starts to head off in the direction of Ithilien again*
Ithiriel: *heads off after him, though is now... not really sure she even wants to go, but... is there, and he's going that way, so.... okay*
Maglor: *is going that way, in the hopes that...maybe if she can shoot anything with a bow and arrow, and as long as it bleeds, she'll feel a bit better*
Maglor: *so, yes, riding to Ithilien now, will do that, hopefully neither of them will end up in healing house*
Ithiriel: *does not want to end up in healing house again, no*
healing houses: *don't want them, either!*
Maglor: *has escaped healing house stay for himself, is trying to keep it that way, yes, has no plans to be put in there, like all the rest of the elves who have been in and out lately*
Maglor: *mainly, does not want to have to deal with uncomfortable uncomfortableness of having former kidnapped elfling turned healer have to tend to him >.>*
Maglor: *lalalaIthilienlalalarides* *lalala-not finding much on the way, and that's both bad AND good, too*
Ithiriel: *lalala rides after him, kind of annoyed that nothing was found, grrr*
Maglor: *then again, is not a tracker, so wouldn't know a bear print from an oliphaunt print anyway*
Maglor: *rides rather aimlessly*
bear: *JUMPS OUT AT THEM RWAR!*
Ithiriel: *pulls out bow and tries to get a grip on it, long enough to knock an arrow, and ... this is not as easy as she'd thought it would be, but she's casually trying to make it work like a bear is NOT rwaring at them >.>*
Maglor: *o.O mirrors expression of horse, perfectly*
horse: o.O @ bear*
Bear: *RWAR!**stands up on it's hind legs, a good ten feet tall!*
horse: *p.s. - helpfully o.O*
Maglor: *hi, honey? is on the lead horse, is waiting for you to have your moment of arrow make thing bleed now, thankyou* *so just...make it work?*
Bear: *stares at them a bit o.O 'cause they haven't freaked out yet*
Maglor: *blinkblinks at it*
horse: *blinkblinks also*
Bear: Rwar?
Ithiriel: *is TRYING to arrow make thing bleed, but .... ... FINALLY manages to keep lock on bow with the TWO fingers that work a bit, and .... lets the arrow fly*
Maglor: *winces slightly, and starts to draw out his sword, just in case*
Bear: *gets shot in the shoulder**yelps* Ow!
Maglor: .........
Ithiriel: *was aiming for the head ><*
Bear: *pulls arrow out of it*
Maglor: ..... *did the bear just say 'ow' and pull an arrow out of it's shoulder, with its paw?* *vague blinkiness*
Bear: *pulls arrow out of it's shoulder and looks at it crossly**starts to deform, and bones crack and move and there is now a Man standing there in front of them*
Man: That wasn't very nice. But I suppose that's what I get for scarin' you folks. *grin*
Ithiriel: .....
Maglor: o.O of massive proportions*
horse: *o.O;*
Ithiriel: *POINT* Beorning?
Maglor: *points too!*
Man: *grins* Aye!
Ithiriel: *facepalms* Lucky for you my aim is horrible this evening. >.>
Maglor: Why are you leaping out in front of elves, like that?! *is shrieking* *its one of those days, has earned right to shriek*
horse: *looks like it horse-sighed and gets tail twitchy*
Maglor: *is high strung, obviously* What is WRONG with you?!
Man: *is old and greybearded* I'm on my way to pay respects to t'king, for his weddin' an' all. But I can't resist a bit of a practical joke now and again.
Man: I'm Grimbeorn the Old, by the way! *offers a hand*
Ithiriel: *is still facepalming*
Man: *seems to not be bothered by being shot with an arrow*
Ithiriel: *with the two-finger grip still on her bow, knocks another one, shoots it off into the forest, and then hops down off her horse*
Ithiriel: *walks off into the forest, with a nod at the Man*
Maglor: *umm, puts sword away and shakes hand?* *smiles?*
Grimbeorn: *shakes!* Your woman seems upset.
Maglor: It has been...a very trying day. She has to...put up with me. *there, that explains it* I'm Maglor. I'm sorry my wife put an arrow in your shoulder. I think she was hoping for an orc or two. *sheepish look*
Woods: *echo with some kind of death cry!*
Grimbeorn: There've been a few on the way down. Orc flesh tastes terrible, so I mostly use my claws.
Maglor: o.0; *panic look at death!cry* ....they smell terrible...excuse me? Must...go...check... *hops off his horse and runs in direction that Ithiriel went off in*
Grimbeorn: *snorts**pats the horse and offers her an apple*
Ithiriel: I am fine. Stay put.
Grimbeorn: *is 70, but looks like 45 <3*
horse: *eats apple* *likes bear-man*
Maglor: *stops in place and fidgets wildly*
Other horse: *looks at bear-man like 'hey. bear-man. where's MY apple?'*
Woods: *echo with ANOTHER one*
Maglor: *winces* You are making sure nothing circles behind you, they always seem to travel in packs and...?
Grimbeorn: *gives the other horse an apple* These elves are a bit off in the head, aren't they.
Other horse: *wuffles*
Maglor: *throws up hands, folds arms, waits* *is like the most oblivious person in forest area, ever*
horse: *apple-chewin' while headbobbing up and down like 'yes, they are off in the head'*
Ithiriel: Yes, I am.
Ithiriel: *steps out of the woods, after a THIRD sound of something obviously dying, whistling a bit to herself while wiping her sword clean*
Maglor: *sighs* *decides to not be a bother, but...isn't exactly looking back over his shoulder either* *gives her a look*
Ithiriel: *smiles?*
Maglor: *long, long sigh*
Ithiriel: Well, my bow skills are horrible. But I can still swing a sword. <3
Maglor: You left me nothing to practice on.
Ithiriel: *snorts* There is an entire camp of them, south and east of here.
Grimbeorn: Met dwarves. Ran into some halflings a few years ago. Talk to elves a lot. Elves are the daftest of the lot, really. *still talking to the horses*
Other horse: *likes elves, but has to agree*
Maglor: *sigh of WOE* *just nods like that's good, smiles? like sword weilding still works for her and she probably needed to do that more, so...nods some more and turns to go back to the horses and Grimbeorn*
horse: *not ALL elves are daft, excuse me?* *was the lady's horse, she and her husband are NOT daft* *gives Grimbeorn a ear-tilty look*
Grimbeorn: *grins toothily* Most elves then.
horse: *these elves? yes, daft. nods head in horse sort of way*
Ithiriel: *was feeling a bit helpless, actually* *is glad she can still fight, so yes, that's good*
Maglor: *walks back toward them and then looks at the horse and then at the man* Well, it seems my wife's work here is done....so if you wish to travel to that city...you could come with us...uhm...if you'd like to, that is.
Maglor: *will just go practice with straw-filled dummies that don't move*
ithiriel: *never found that satisfying enough*
Grimbeorn: I'd just hold ya up, kid. *grins at him* I'll get there in good time, an' hopefully before the wedding. *pats his pack* Got a present for the king, an' I hear ol' Gandalf is in town. Heard a lot from him from my father.
Maglor: *will have to find it satisfying, because is not sparring with her, his father (who claims not to want to hold a sword again) or his brother (who has anger management issues he's trying to work through) <3*
Maglor: *blinked at the backpat*
Maglor: ....really, though...it wouldn't hurt...to...at least let us go slow, so you can keep up... *points back in direction of deathscreams* ...orcs?
Ithiriel: The camp of them will eventually realise their friends are missing.
Grimbeorn: *patted his own pack, but okay, would pat Maglor's back too so it's all good!* *waves a hand* I can handle some orcs, kid, don't worry your pretty little head about it.
Maglor: Even you are only one bear to them...and I think they would eat you...uhm...in either form and.... *looks hesitant* ...yes, sorry, but...I'm not exactly some elfling, either.... *still pointing off in that direction* ...and...orcs.
Grimbeorn: You look like a kid to me. *Rolls his eyes* But I can keep up if I skin-change.
Maglor: *gives him a weird look* I'm almost nine thousand years old.
Grimbeorn: And?
Ithiriel: Orcs.
Grimbeorn: Then get to'ridin'.
Ithiriel: Yes. *mounts up*
Maglor: *does not like this, SIGHS*
Grimbeorn: *shifts again, with that bonecrackling and muscle movingness* RWAR!
Maglor: *hates doing this, hates it, but tries to sound convincing/commanding/authorative despite talking to a...bear* We will accompany you, so that you and your gift make it to the wedding.
Grimbeorn: *rwarnods!*
Maglor: *nods, hops back up onto the helpfully staring horse*
Ithiriel: No, I mean ... ORCS. As in, NOW they are coming, so we should be faster.
Maglor: ...now? As in...now-NOW?!
Ithiriel: *spurs her horse on* As in now-now.
Grimbeorn: *waits until they're riding before loping after them*
Ithiriel: *can hear them* *they like to ruin forest and snap twigs and things*
Maglor: *mutters a few curse words in quenya and tries to hang back a LITTLE bit, to make sure the bear's still in sight?*
Ithiriel: *rideriderides, knows when too many orcs are too many orcs, and this is TOO many orcs*
Orcs: *armed, drunk, and PISSED OFF*
Bears: *can run as fast as horses*
Maglor: *still hanging back a bit, and is looking back to make sure that bear? is not bear!dinner for orcs*
Grimbeorn: *keeping up with Maglor!*
Maglor: *oh right, well, goes faster then*
Orcs: *fling some arrows at the squishies that are running away*
Maglor: *ducks an arrow?*
Grimbeorn: *lopes alongside Ithiriel, then back to where Maglor is, mouth open a bit and tongue hanging out and wagging in the wind**seems to be bear!grinning or bear!laughing*
Ithiriel: *Yes, because this is hysterical* *ducks an arrow, then rides beside Maglor and tugs him out of the path of another one*
Maglor: *is tugged, nearly came right off horse, gives her a look like 'thanks, dear'* *for both the nearly tugging and the arrow dodging, both*
Ithiriel: *pushes him back so he isn't dislodged, watches another one skid past her ear* They must be quite angry, I have never seen them chase someone sof ar.
Grimbeorn: *hasn't had this much excitement since that big battle, and this is a lot more fun!**led the Beornings to the Great Battle to help everyone, just like his dad at Five Armies, he did!*
Orcs: *are pissed orcs!*
Maglor: ...what did you do? >.O *because, yes, they really ARE putting up a chase*
Grimbeorn: *rwars!**they're almost to the river!*
Ithiriel: Killed three very loudly on purpose, and another two quietly, to prove that I could do it without letting them know. *calmly*
Maglor: Bridge, cross bridge...go go go...
Ithiriel: *makes Maglor go first >.>*
Maglor: *oh no, has noldo!plan*
Maglor: Just go. >.<
Ithiriel: But ...!
Maglor: Go bridge go?!
Ithiriel: But.... ... *
Grimbeorn: *slows down a bit so he's between them and orcs*
Ithiriel: *doesn't want him to get hurt ><*
Maglor: I am crossing the bridge too, so BOTH of you, GO OVER THE BRIDGE FIRST!
Ithiriel: .... Come on, it is never good when he uses that tone of voice. *said to the bear, then across she goes*
Maglor: *would rip out hair but has one hand on reins and other is drawing out the sword*
Grimbeorn: *rwars like 'noo!' *
Maglor: *glares like YES*
horse: *gives bear a look like 'do not make me land a hoof in your bear-ass*
Grimbeorn: *isn't going to run from battle if the elf isn't*
Grimbeorn: *is also BIGGER than him*
Maglor: *isn't going to GET into battle* GET OVER THE BRIDGE! *now uses that commanding voice thing*
Ithiriel: *... loves that tone of voice* *loves it*
Maglor: *Yes, definitely used it, right now, do not question, just do, please <3*
Ithiriel: *is on other side of bridge .... with useless bow and arrows*
Maglor: Go. Over. The. BRIDGE.
Maglor: *glares at pissed off orcs*
Orcs: *SO very still pissed off*
Maglor: *great! is pissed off stress elf!*
Grimbeorn: *grows at him, gruffly* Don't be stupid, kid. *turns to face the orcs as well, but, okay, fine, STANDING on the bridge, near the middle*
Maglor: Over. Bridge. >.< *gritty teeth* I am not going over also, until you are there, and you are going to get us BOTH KILLED!
Maglor: I am trying to buy us some TIME!
Orcs: *very pissed, and much closer than they were before* *flinging arrows again!*
Grimbeorn: *can buy time too!**ugh, nancy elves**fine, lopes across the bridge, but really doesn't like it*
Ithiriel: Eru's sake, just DO whatever it is you are going to do, QUICKLY.
Maglor: *has to duck another arrow, then rides across, hops down off horse, and waves frost sword once before touching the point of it down against the bridge...and hello! orc ice-capades!*
Grimbeorn: *bear!impressed looking*
horse: *stares helpfully at ice-rink* *is glad does not have to try to skitter hooves over that*
Ithiriel: *yes, yes, very impressive noldo frost sword* *RIDING now?*
Orcs: *bravely try going skitterskitterskitter*
Maglor: *makes sure it is GOOD AND FROSTED over, hops back on horse after resheathing sword, nods to the bear, and takes off after wife, heading in direction of the city*
Grimbeorn: *snerks**follows at a much more leisurely pace*
Maglor: *is not using more leisurely pace, is using the get-elven-ass-out-of-trouble pace*
Grimbeorn: *will need nap after this*
Maglor: *knows that's too many orcs, they shouldn't have been chased that far, and wife REALLY pissed them off* *might need nap too?*
Grimbeorn: *getting too old for this shit**it's for the younger people, like son and granddaughter*
Ithiriel: *really pissed them off, yes*
Maglor: *catches up to Ithiriel and gives her a look like 'did you HAVE to piss them off THIS much?!'*
Ithiriel: *IGNORES look* *spends rest of ride in SILENCE*
Maglor: *fine, sends her the thought instead <3*
Grimbeorn: *lopes lopes**needs a smoke, too*
Ithiriel: <3 *doors shut yay*
Maglor: *slows down since bear really is loping along and they're almost to the gate anyway, and wife will probably want to tell guards that know her what's happened* *sighs at shut door*
Maglor: *two can play at that game, its called "try to make it through all of my mental chatter of things that go unsaid and are never really fully thought out!" :D*
Grimbeorn: *skin-changes when they get closer, and walks along after them**rolls up some pipeweed into paper, and lights it**happy exhale*
Maglor: *will just pull that out on her later, when he's the one who doesn't want to answer questions <3*
Ithiriel: *finally makes it to safety, instructs guards that HORDE OF ANGRY ORCS are in Ithilien, gets let through the gate, rides to the stable, takes care of horse, goes to Citadel room*
Ithiriel: *where nap? Happens*
Maglor: *finally reaches the gate and stops the horse, then waits to make sure that Grimbeorn finally makes it through, apologizes profusely for barking orders, then goes and...yes...mopes in room trying to write death play again*
Grimbeorn: *goes to pay respects to the ze king and shit**after his own nap*
Arrow: *sticking out of Maglor, that's gone unnoticed until now?*
Maglor: *does not have arrow in back!* ... *does he?*
arrow: *totally in back*
Maglor: *flails! goes to healing house to have normal healer pull arrow out of back since CAN NOT REACH IT HIMSELF*
Maglor: *is all 'ow ow OW' the entire way*