Forgotten harper, singer doomed. (gold_cleaver) wrote in untold_logs, @ 2008-06-10 09:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | caranthir, maglor |
Who: Caranthir, Maglor
What: A little visit in the healing houses, with talk about not causing witchy catastrophes and family and bets, and a gift is bestowed. Oh Caranthir, you're so closet!mushy. *squee!* <3
When: Present, so that means its after the talk with Faramir and Beruthiel, obtaining the gemstone, and after Maglor returned to Ithiriel's house. Phew!
Where: Houses of Healing
Caranthir: *can talk shortly as she knows brother!mun has to sleep soon*
Maglor: *wouldn't mind that, so hauls EVERY LAST BOOK he can borrow from the library, down to the healing house*
Maglor: *walks in with a stack of books in his arms, plops them down at the foot of the bed, and announces in westron* I have brought you...might book gift.
Maglor: *hasn't gotten the plurals down v. well yet*
Caranthir: ....Mighty. *corrects*
Maglor: ...MIGHTY book gift.
Caranthir: *nods her head**sits up* You ransacked that place.
Maglor: *eyes his 'sister' and asks in much plainer and easier for them both to understand* I did, but do not tell me that you have already learned more just laying here, with mortal healers threatening to pour tea down your throat.
Caranthir: ......Nay.
Maglor: *nods and sorts through the books, so they're in two stacks* This side is the sindarin, and this side is the westron. They are the same tales, so it is easier to see what words are which, and figure them out. It isn't too strange that it is not easy to fathom, and I asked the mortals tending to the books how to pronounce things.
Caranthir: *picks two* Thank you.
Caranthir: Should make it easier to learn them.
Caranthir: Westron, that is.
Maglor: *nods* I am afraid we will have to master it, as a necessity. I will not say how it sounds to my ears, though, as it is not for the faint of heart. *sits down* Did he speak to you, about...anything? *is meaning their father, of course, and about being stuck in...those particular bodies*
Caranthir: I am better with Sindarin. Pah. We talked, some.
Maglor: ...and what did he tell you, Caranthir...? *fights off urge to eyedart, is trying to be...not blunt, definitely*
Caranthir: That we are doomed, and will likely force this city to collapse from the mountain.
Maglor: *long sigh and nods*
Caranthir: *scowls* I do not like this. Like not having control over myself.
Maglor: You have even less so, with someone brandishing your swords and claiming you can not harm them while they have them in their possession.
Maglor: If they said this was so, to you, then there is no telling what they might further try to use them for, against you.
Caranthir: I would not even be able to weild that sword properly. But I want it back. >.<
Maglor: *nods in agreement* I thought as much. I will bring it back to you.
Maglor: I do not find the thought pleasant, of someone running about with either of your swords.
Caranthir: Perhaps it can be reforged... *sighs**picks through the book* You know you might die, brother.
Maglor: I know. I will try not to, since this is a matter of importance.
Maglor: It is not as though I have gone blindly into things, before, thinking I would not die.
Caranthir: *silent for a long long time**then eyedarts* I would prefer that you not die. >.>
Caranthir: Perhaps I've grown attached. Curse this body. >.>
Maglor: *blinks and looks over him* Why, Caranthir, I am beside myself with surprise. You are daring to let your softer side out. I knew it was in you, somewhere.
Maglor: *then looks more serious* If it happens, it will happen. I should not be left fearing it for longer than I have. And it is not as though either of you can do such a task. I think you both know this.
Caranthir: *grunts* You are right. *begrudging* And it vexes us both.
Maglor: I would advise against any attempts to regain any sort of advantage of strength or power, while amongst these mortals. It would only harm them, and stain you both further in the eyes of others. Or stain all of us, as such.
Maglor: *sighs like he gets the feeling those words were spoken in vain*
Caranthir: Nay! You misunderstand. I need to..learn this body, so that I might fight again, in it. That sword will be too heavy, and not balanced for me now.
Maglor: *said with a weary expression* You lose hold of your already foul temper, whenever you fight. You will tempt that body to do things beyond your control, should you attempt it.
Maglor: It is fruitless to tell you such things. You will put your mind to it, for lack of other things to do.
Caranthir: How can I defend myself if I do not know my body!
Caranthir: *snappish* I will learn to fight, and through that, discipline.
Maglor: *rests a hand over his eyes*
Caranthir: *stubborn*
Maglor: *knows, and knows that its a recipe for disaster*
Maglor: *finally lowers his hand and looks at his...sister* I will forgive you but ONCE, should you do something harmful.
Caranthir: *eyes him* I will do nothing harmful! *exhales* I have seen the Edain fight. They are fierce in battle but can be very disciplined.
Maglor: ...you will cause chaos and ruin, eventually.
Maglor: *pessimistic*
Caranthir: *beats his fist on the book!!!*
Maglor: Calm down! *takes the book away* I have to return that, it is not for you to beat your fist upon like an elfling!
Maglor: *scolding a bit* You are only proving my point. *sets it down on top of a stack of books*
Caranthir: *glowers* You doubt me! I shall prove you wrong.
Maglor: I do not want to be proven wrong. That is what I am wary of.
Maglor: You will wish to prove you can still be somewhat like who you once were, in battle, for that is where you were well-versed.
Maglor: And harm may come of it. But you will not heed my words, in favor of proving otherwise.
Caranthir: I will prove that I will be able to prevent such things, by honing this body!
Maglor: *mournful stare*
Maglor: Can you prove me wrong, without also disappointing me? Or do you say such things, only because you wish to prove it further, to yourself.
Caranthir: *sits back, blowing hair out of her eyes* I have to prove this, to myself. To know I am capable, else I might as well just slit my own throat.
Maglor: *frowns a little* Only if you wish me to follow suit. My temper might be lesser than yours, or some of our other brother's, but it can be just as fierce when it burns.
Caranthir: >.< Fah! I will try to remain calm. But I will not be useless.
Maglor: *sighs* Then ask him to reforge the sword, into something your frail little mortal hands, can weild.
Caranthir: *SMACKS* You are not helping!
smack: *was so very girly too*
Maglor: >.>
Maglor: Perhaps a very light sword, then.
Maglor: *backs away before he can get girly smacked again*
Caranthir: *GLARE*
Maglor: *smiles?*
Maglor: How much longer are they keeping you in this place?
Caranthir: Another two days. >.< They worry about a concussion. What blasted nonsense, I hate being mortal.
Maglor: It does not suit either of you very much, I do not think. I could not imagine it happening to myself, either. But in that, I can understand your mutual annoyance.
Caranthir: You're the one that deserved it, from a pansy standpoint! *teasing. Mostly*
Maglor: ...oh just call me that name again and get it over with. *rolls eyes*
Maglor: I know you want to.
Caranthir: Maaaggie.
Maglor: e.e *indeed, knew it was being left unsaid, but smirks just a little bit*
Maglor: Shall I call you Cara?
Caranthir: ..............................
Caranthir: *shrugs!*
Maglor: *blinks like he's shocked*
Caranthir: It matters not, I might as well accept it. And being called Caranthir will only induce suspicion.
Maglor: I will attempt to do so, only in private. Just as we once spoke only Quenya, in private, to one another. The larger problem, is that I still refer to you as brother and father as...father...and it will look odd to others, saying as such in westron.
Maglor: Most especially so, as you are both mortal.
Caranthir: Then call us by our names, fake or otherwise.
Maglor: *sighs like that's a depressing thought, also*
Maglor: Perhaps we could simply claim that father was a very promiscuous woman.
Caranthir: ..*laughs!!* But an elf?
Maglor: She laid with a very promiscuous elf who happened to like slanty-eyed mortals and thought it would produce one who thus looked...exotic.
Maglor: *shrugs, is making this up*
Caranthir: *shakes his...her...head* That would work among those that know nothing of elves. *ponders*
Maglor: Perhaps the elf was desperate. *ponders*
Caranthir: *rolls her eyes* I have not thought of Feanor as father in a long time...
Maglor: *gives him a strange look* Though for a long time I have been regretful, and wandered feeling great sorrow and knew not myself at times...I can not help but think of him as such.
Caranthir: He liked you better. He always did.
Maglor: I do not know about that.
Caranthir: You, at least, could craft something, even if it was just song.
Maglor: *sighs* That did not help when it came to greater matters.
Maglor: The rest of you were far better than I would ever dream of being, in battle.
Caranthir: Songs are morale, to those without any... *nods his head* We were.
Maglor: *nods a little sullenly in response* I did take part in it all, and I accept the guilt of that as my fair share...but it is not what I truly ever wanted to do.
Caranthir: We ruined you, by dragging you into all that.
Maglor: *blinks* No, do not say such things. If I had not wanted to follow you all, and if I had not been prideful of my brothers and father, or felt there were not slights against us...I would not have joined when the oath was taken.
Caranthir: *admits* I was just pissed off.
Caranthir: *simple! Concise!*
Maglor: I was, admittedly, rather angry and caught up in it all, also.
Caranthir: That is past. *waves a hand* We can't change it.
Maglor: It is not passed entirely. *mindfully says so* We are at our worst, when our tempers are in unison, or we rush into things or make decisions on a whim.
Maglor: That is why I am concerned for the both of you, being in those bodies you know little about.
Caranthir: .....*ponders*
Maglor: I have a feeling that this meeting was fated, and that something will go wrong.
Caranthir: Now you're just being foolish. Hold out your hand and close your eyes.
Maglor: *wary look*
Maglor: You are going to bite me, aren't you.
Maglor: *sighs and closes his eyes, holding out his hand*
Caranthir: *puts something in Maglor's hand* Open your eyes.
Maglor: *blinks eyes open and looks down at his hand*
Something: *is a carving of a particularly fierce looking wolf*
Caranthir: Good luck, to watch over you.
Maglor: *aww, looks wistfully almost weepy for a moment*
Maglor: I will keep it with me, when I leave, and bring it back, should I return.
Caranthir: It's yours. Keep it with you always. *lays back and closes her eyes* For all our harsh words, for all the teasing, the arguing...I've always loved you. All of our brothers. Even, though don't tell her this, Father.
Maglor: Thank you, Cara. I have felt the same, even when I thought one of you made mistakes. *pets his other gloved hand over the wolf and then looks at her* And why would he not want to know such a thing?
Maglor: It is further not a foul thing for brothers to love one another, despite differences or matters we do not agree on.
Caranthir: Because I loathe Feanor, as much as I love him. -_-
Maglor: He admits wrong doing on his part, also. It is as he has said, he has had time to dwell.
Maglor: It is uncomfortable, truly it is, but at the same time, it is good to know that the fire of his spirit lives on, undaunted.
Caranthir: *snorts**looks weary and pale* I want to hit him. Again. That felt nice.
Maglor: *sits on the bed next to her and shakes his head* Do not. When I slapped him, he looked ready to weep, either out of true insult, or sheer regret. Stay your fist for worthier enemies.
Caranthir: *sighs*....maybe.
Maglor: *nods a little* I suppose that is the closest to that sort of promise that I am ever going to get. In a fortnight, we might all be hitting eachother and bickering, again.
Caranthir: Four days. Want to bet?
Maglor: Barter for it. I say it will be...more than six days but no less than fourteen.
Caranthir: Deal.
Maglor: *nods* We will work out the embarrassing specifics of winnings, after one of us is the winner of such a bet.
Maglor: *might not be around to see if he wins, but pushes that thought aside*
Caranthir: You have to wear a dress.
Maglor: *squinty a little bit* You have to flash your finer assets at some of the gate guards.
Caranthir: .......................
Caranthir: Deal.
Maglor: *is going to be on best behavior, so he doesn't have to wear a dress* *smirks at Caranthir like he's going to kiss ass if he needs to*
Caranthir: *is going to be on bad behaviour so he doesn't have to flash guards XD*
Maglor: *blast it all to Angband* *>.<*
Maglor: You look pale, sister. I should let you get your rest.
Caranthir: ....Thank you. *really feels like shiiiite*
Maglor: *pats a hand on Caranthir's shoulder and stands up* You will be breaking your fist again in no time, I'd imagine. I will also visit with you, again. *puts the wolf-carving into a black pouch tied to his belt, and then waves both gloved hands around like he just knooooooows it will happen*
Caranthir: *lays down*....just don't die yet. I'll kill you.
Maglor: *was walking out of the room but stops and leans back in* If it looks as if that may be so? I shall be certain to tell the witch to stop what she is doing, so that I might run back and fetch you. *walks off!*
Caranthir: Please do!