Lady Ithiriel of Rivendell (ithiriel) wrote in untold_logs, @ 2008-06-14 02:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | ithiriel, maglor |
Why do you always come to my door with full hands?
Who: Maglor, Ithiriel
What: Discussions, and a leavetaking.
When: Today!
Where: Minas Tirith
Maglor: *finally buys a silver-metal sheath and then...maybe bought some other things*
Maglor: *might have stopped off in a tavern for a while to think-sing, and made a whoooole lot more coins in a hour, from people weeping into their tankards of ale*
Maglor: *thinky-shops, then heads back to Ithiriel's*
Ithiriel: *is curled up on one of the chairs that's wider and has more padding, with that gemstone still in her hands*
Maglor: *kicks foot at door very lightly, like he's knocking* *has arms full*
Maglor: *SIGHS so she knows its him*
Ithiriel: *blinks a bit and snaps out of the little dreamy-trance she was in, slips the gem away, and heads over to the door for him* *opens it* *blinks at him* Why do you always come to my door with full hands?
Maglor: I'm afraid that it is an old bad habit, that is resurfacing once more. *is soft-voiced and peeking up over all the bundled packages, and the sheath that is on top of the pile* *luckily has harp slung onto his back again so doesn't have to worry about holding onto THAT also* ... Why do you always answer the door and look like you just awoke, in a rush?
Ithiriel: I do not, that is merely your perception. *takes some of the packages away from him, carefully, and kicks the door open more widely for him*
Maglor: *walks in, looks suitably moody but can still give her a wry glance like he knows its more than just his perception of things, sets the packages down on a table*
Ithiriel: *ignores the wry glance, but does notice the moodiness* Did you have a bad day? It must have been ... thankless work, singing for the coins for all of this. You seem... well... *eyes him* More dark of spirit, than usual, even for you.
Maglor: *looks a little morose before sighing and blurting out* I spoke to Artanis. *pauses* Galadriel.
Ithiriel: *tilts her head* I see... did she .... harm you , or.... well, I suppose harm is the wrong word, but... she always seemed a bit intimidating to me, and I am not you...
Maglor: *takes the harp and puts it on the table next to the packages, then...starts...arranging things while staring pensively at them* No, no...she did not harm me...I do more harm to myself, I think. Rather, she gave me much, to dwell on.
Ithiriel: The Lady likes to do that, *nods her head, remembering the only conversation she ever had with her* *shudders, recalling it, though... has to admit much of it makes complete sense now* *pokes at some of the packages curiously*
Maglor: You have spoken to her before. *is really just fidgiting with the packages now*
Maglor: *is just gathering she has, by the way she said that* *finally hands her one of the paper-wrapped packages*
Ithiriel: *plays with the package, a bit, unsure she wants to open it* I have. I was among her ladies, for a time. Horrible with embroidery, but excellent at stitching leathers and straight seams.
Maglor: *smiles a bit at that, actually had to teach himself to sew things back together when he was alone so knows what a pain that is* *hands her a much much smaller package* It is not much, and they are very simple things, for you did mention that you often do not wear...outlandish things that reek of finery.
Ithiriel: *blinks her eyes at the two packages, setting the smaller one down on the table, and still playing with the larger one* Maglor ... you did not have to .... I needed no presents from you, though ... I thank you. *pokes at the present one more time, and then... finally gets up the guts to open it*
Maglor: *picked out a very simply styled dress that matches the color of her eyes, nothing fancy but still pretty* I knew you would say something like that, but...you have been very kind and giving, toward me.
Maglor: I could not afford the one with further embellishments or embroidery. *smiles?*
Ithiriel: *runs her hands over the dress, and smiles brightly* .... It is gorgeous.
Ithiriel: The cloth is very soft to the touch, as well, and I love the color of it. *is a bit speachless, actually, was really not expecting anything at all from him* I think it will become my favorite dress ... and honestly, I would rather it had no further embellishments on it.
Ithiriel: *ponders putting it on right now*
Maglor: If I had sat in that inn causing those who were moping into their ale to weep any further, I would have had a great many more coins to spend. I thought that I would take pity on them...and I am pleased you like the dress.
Ithiriel: *nods her head, and runs her hand over it again, then picks it up, and heads into the other room for a moment* We may as well see what it looks like, on me.
Maglor: o.O Wait!
Ithiriel: *peeks her head out the doorway* Mm?
Maglor: *takes up the smaller package and walks very quickly over to the door, holding it out* Wear this with it?
Ithiriel: *takes the smaller package in her hands, looking slightly confused, and nods her head* I will... *kisses his cheek*
Maglor: *blushes a bit*
Maglor: *goes and puts the sword in the sheath, finds it fits perfectly, sighs a little over thought of leaving*
Ithiriel: *smiles at him and ducks back into the room, opening the smaller package as soon as she gets there and letting out a little gasp at the beauty of the necklace inside* *touches her finger to the small white stone, and smiles, then pulls her hair away from her neck and puts the necklace on* *decides Maglor has excellent taste, simple and elegant*
Ithiriel: *pulls on the new dress, as well, and ties up the laces in the front, then steps out, with a beaming smile on her face.* *feels... really pretty*
Maglor: *idly opens packages since...well...maybe it is time to put aside the black clothes, then sees her and forgets all about his clothes, entirely* *stares like he's in awe*
Maglor: *says after a long moment* ...you put the stars themselves, to shame.
Ithiriel: *blushes, crimson, and ducks her head* Oh nay.... *walks up to him, and wraps her arms around him* But you are wonderful, for thinking so.
Maglor: *hugs onto her in an instant, as well* ...I believe so, it is much more than just a thought.
Ithiriel: There are times when you outshine the most lordly of elves, yourself. Especially when you sing, or ... when you look at me. *says this, softly, and squeezes him* The light in your eyes goes less dimmed, then.
Maglor: *eyedarts and just....nooooooods*
Maglor: ...I would...need to speak to you...about...certain things...but I do not know if it is best to wait, until after I return....after I hunt down this witch...
Ithiriel: *lays a kiss against his throat, and squeezes him one last time, before letting him go and running her hands over the clothing he bought* If you feel, that it would be better to speak to me on these things, before you leave - so that your mind is unfettered by them, and free to focus on hunting the witch ... then we will speak now.
Maglor: *takes each item out and they are either pale blue or a dusky grey, along with a hooded cloak that is that particular shade of blue that only shows itself at twilight* ...that is the thing. What I must speak to you about, is something which you claimed you did not want to do, already.
Ithiriel: *blinks her eyes, and nods approvingly at the clothing choices* *picks up a pale blue shirt and holds it up against him, so that she can see what the color does to his eyes, and then gets lost in his eyes for a bit* ... We might still speak about it, whatever it is....
Maglor: *is staring at her like he's totally oblivious to a shirt or anything else being held up anywhere near him* ...leaving...by ship.
Ithiriel: *wrinkles her brow* That is what She spoke to you of, then.... sailing home, to Aman.
Maglor: *nods but its done so slightly, that it would take intense scrutiny to notice he nodded at all*
Maglor: Celeborn is taking the very last ship. They wish me to...return something, there.
Maglor: One of my father's jewels, before he made the silmarils.
Ithiriel: ... And they think you could do this, without... the ship getting wrecked, or the Valar somehow pushing you back?
Maglor: They believe so. I am not so certain. If it looked to be that way, if they would not allow me to return and face their judgment, then I could always cast myself overboard?
Ithiriel: *turns away from him and sets the shirt carefully on the table, then crosses her arms over her chest and paces, a bit* *doesn't have the energy to full-on pace* I... .... Do you want to? Sail back home? I think the lands there might ... restore you, a bit, and that would not be a bad thing...
Maglor: ...I do not know. I am weary, though you've spared me a great part of that weariness, as well as being able to speak to my father and brother again. *watches her pace and has a sad expression on his face while doing so, like he doesn't want to upset her and knows she has less energy than she should have* I do not trust myself to...bear it over the sea, as of yet. But they both feel as though I should, and say all is and will be forgiven.
Maglor: It is not only my decision, anymore. If you wished to remain here, and fade away after a great deal of time has passed, I would do so, by your side.
Ithiriel: It is not my decision anymore, either.... *runs a hand up into her hair*
Ithiriel: *stops in her pacing, to look at him* I would not stay here, alone, without you. I would not have you stay here, simply to be with me .... and there is... another thing we need to consider, as well. One that I had not, when I originally decided never to sail.
Ithiriel: *tilts her head* Mainly, because I thought never to find again, someone I would love like this.
Maglor: *blinks and folds his arms like he's waiting, but really its just a defensive posture like he's waiting for some...volley of verbal arrows and such* I did not expect to find anyone I would love, such as this. And you are yet leaving some things unsaid.
Maglor: You speak even less of your past loves, than you have about your family.
Maglor: *adds gently like he's reminding her* ...there are no bugs in your kitchen, Ithiriel.
Ithiriel: *stares at him, and works her jaw*
Maglor: *is giving her a look like he's a kicked puppy...sitting in a mudpuddle*
Ithiriel: *doesn't say a word, shuffles into the kitchen* *really, badly, needs a cup of tea now*
Maglor: *sighs out her name and winces miserably*
Ithiriel: *readies tea balls with shaking hands* *doesn't know why this subject is such a soft spot for her, either, just... doesn't want to talk about it*
Maglor: *has gathered* ...perhaps I should go...speak to Caranthir or my father, before I leave...and give you some time, unfettered, to...gather your thoughts back together. Or I will ask further, and it seems you do not want me to.
Ithiriel: .... What do you want to know? *says this softly, with a somewhat shaky voice from her kitchen*
Maglor: *finally raises one hand and rubs it over his eyes*
Maglor: ...this is upsetting you, greatly. So you must have truly loved him.
Ithiriel: *comes back in, with teacups in her hands, and sets them down on the table before she drops them*
Maglor: *had pulled his hand away and so noted she looked ready to* ...Ithiriel...just tell me.
Ithiriel: *puts the fell!angband!teakettle on the fire, before taking a seat* .... You do not want to know... you think you do, but you do not, and when you find out, you will think less of me....
Maglor: *frowns ever so slightly, then walks over and sits down next to her, brows knit together like he's mulling it over*
Maglor: *comes to simple conclusion* You bonded with someone already, and they sailed.
Ithiriel: *shakes her head* He died before we could bind ourselves...
Maglor: .... *makes a soft 'ahh' noise and nods*
Maglor: *then frowns a little, again* Why would I think less of you, for that?
Ithiriel: I told you ... the story of what happened, with him and I, how his last act was pulling me down off the mountain, after the orcs.... *sighs* I loved him, very much, almost as much as I love you...
Maglor: ...I do not think any less of you for loving him, either, for that valiant act...
Maglor: *looks like he's about to start fidgiting again, and lips part like he wants to say something but...isn't able to follow through*
Ithiriel: *stares down into her teacup, even though its empty* .... he ... was not the only one...
Maglor: *winces slightly but tries to cover it up, and its a good thing that she's looking at the teacup, most likely*
Maglor: Did the next one die, also?
Ithiriel: *just nods her head*
Maglor: ...did you not get a chance to bond with him, either?
Maglor: *is seeing a pattern, here*
Ithiriel: *works her jaw* He was mortal.
Maglor: *eyes go round*
Ithiriel: *squeezes her eyes shut*
Maglor: *blinkblinks*
Maglor: ....oh, so...did you...did he...were you, both...this one did not die before then, did he...
Maglor: *looks over at her and bites into his lower lip for a few seconds, then turns where he's sitting to face her more*
Ithiriel: He did not wish ... to marry me... ... I never told him, what it would mean, for me.... but he did not wish it... regardless .... he was not the type, for committments.
Maglor: *tries to speak in as gentle a voice as he can* ...did you, and he...?
Maglor: ...without commitments, I mean...did you and he...do anything, for this to be hidden by you and so difficult for you to speak about?
Ithiriel: ..... does it matter?
Maglor: ...well, I suppose...not but...yes?
Maglor: *looks a little distraught* ...but only because I want to know, and so it does not burden you any further than it is, now.
Maglor: I believe it makes more sense to me now, the way you first reacted to news that I was going to seek out this witch, and thus would have to leave.
Ithiriel: *blinks some tears out of her eyes* We ... did things.... things people in love, do.... I didn't know, that I would meet you, later....
Ithiriel: He is gone now, anyway...
Maglor: *reaches out and very carefully takes the teacup from her hands, and places it aside*
Ithiriel: *wrings her hands*
Maglor: *rests his hand over both of hers to still them*
Maglor: *says in a very loving tone of voice* ...that, fair Ithiriel, is because you were stubborn, and did not think ahead. I love you all the same.
Ithiriel: *starts shaking a bit, looks down at his hand* You said it was less treasured, or... I forget what you said, but it sounded like .. you did not approve, at all.
Maglor: I said that, and perhaps I should not have. I still love you.
Maglor: I also said it is not up to me, to pass judgment.
Ithiriel: Which is the same as saying, that you would pass judgement, if you could.
Maglor: *sighs at that*
Ithiriel: *seems to have calmed down a bit, though she's still blinking tears out of her eyes*
Maglor: ...you knew the consequences though, with the mortal...you do not need me to rub your very pretty nose in them, every day for the next thousand years.
Maglor: *scootscoots so he's now sitting riiiiiiiiiiiight next to her* >.>
Maglor: *removes his hand, looks at her for a long moment, and then huuuuuugs*
Ithiriel: *rests her head against him, and ..... lets out a small, slightly heartbroken sob*
Maglor: *kisses her hair, then her face, and then nuzzles while hugging*
Maglor: *says softly* I love you, and if you will, I will return to you, and we can be bonded together, for better or for worse, come what may. I love you, for you are not much like our kind, either, as much as I am not...and in all of Arda and Aman, there is never to be another as unique and cherished to me, as you are.
Ithiriel: *squeezes him, snuggles against him, and ..... just .... well..... makes the shirt covering his shoulder soaked*
Maglor: *would point out that its black, so its not going to show even if she cried enough that it was like drowning in a river, and is more content to hold her while she does that*
Maglor: *rubs a hand over her back*
Ithiriel: *eventually gains control of herself, and quiets down, then backs away a bit and wipes her eyes* I love you, I ..... .... want to bind to you, for however long we have together... I want to go with you, wherever you go, bear your 32 children... *smiles wryly at that* ... I cannot believe you are forgiving me for this...
Maglor: *smiled the moment she began to speak and kept smiling, throughout* ...why wouldn't I? I could forgive you of almost anything. Short of oath-taking and setting out to commit incredibly foul deeds, knowing what we both know, already.
Maglor: *rests the tips of his fingers against the side of her face* It may take us quite a while to have thirty-two children. But I am up to the task.
Ithiriel: *smiles even more brightly, turns her face to kiss his palm* Perhaps not really thirty two, but I would like .. more than one, I think, at least.
Maglor: Seven?
Maglor: No more than that.
Ithiriel: *looks into his eyes* *smiles* Seven sounds like a very traditionally good number.
Maglor: It is. I am used to large families.
Maglor: *is gazing into her eyes and grinning with ease*
Ithiriel: I would like a much larger family than the one that left me here. *nods her head*
Maglor: You will never have any troubles, being alone. *nods back at her*
Ithiriel: So .. I think, that if you can sail, perhaps, I aught to change my mind and let you take me with you, for I would not leave our seven children on this shore to die. *nods her head at that, too*
Maglor: Yes, I think we should, perhaps, take our brood of little elflings, along with us. When I am ready to, and since you are letting me take you with me.
Ithiriel: We may not have all of them by that time. *chuckles* I do not know, when you plan on sailing, but I am in no rush.
Maglor: I think, so that you have your time to watch the mortals do great things and make their mistakes as they will...and as some of us have also done...that it will be the very last ship, as suggested. We will have a great amount of time, to shower my 'mother' and 'sister' with little elflings.
Ithiriel: I think they would like that. Gladharil, also, seems to expect some elflings to spoil. She is like a sister to me, more than a sister, really, and I do not dare disappoint her, either. *chuckles softly* It will be a very crowded boat, this last boat, with us and seven children, and Eru knows how many others.
Maglor: Cirdan and Celeborn, I suspect. *nods and laughs a little* We will spend a great deal of time reminding them to watch the railings, but it is a journey they can only take but once, and the last for us as well... *voice trails off and sighs like that's not exactly a depressing thought, but is still naturally a bit worried about it*
Ithiriel: *reaches a hand out to him, and caresses his cheek* It will be a good journey, one that I never expected to take... but I think you would have convinced me of it, anyway, even had you been forced to stay. And perhaps by the time the last boat leaves, we will both be ready to say goodbye to this place, and greet the other.
Maglor: I am...very happy you were not stubborn and obstinant about it...I thought you would protest more and... *blushes a bit and then kisses her very suddenly*
Maglor: *had wanted to, even before this talk, and couldn't hold back any longer?*
Ithiriel: *wraps on arm around his waist and the other around his neck, up into his hair, and kisses back like there isn't going to be a tomorrow*
Maglor: *is kissing her much the same way, but its a deeply passionate kiss which is....probably enough proof that seven elflings? not going to be a problem*
Ithiriel: *very passionate kiss, the type that might bind souls together, if that were possible, or at least the kind that spark fire and melt cold hearts, and would burn the furniture around them if it could*
Maglor: *is now convinced by that alone, that they might just push the envelope a WEE BIT and have eight* *then decide to stop* *sweeps his fingers up into her hair and fire is feeling very sparky and burny...in a really good way* *kiss?bonds?*
Ithiriel: *gets tears in her eyes again, but they're the good kind of tears.... like she's finally complete, after thousands of years of missing pieces of herself* *runs her fingers through what little there is of his hair, and chews on his lip a bit* *is in fact, pondering being very, very unwise at this point*
Maglor: *....is pondering that too, and the lip nippingness? is really not helping matters* *is basically feeling up her back while kissing*
Maglor: *can't stop hands from doing that >.<*
Ithiriel: *really doesn't mind if his hands keep doing that* *her hand is working its way up and down his back, then back up into his hair, anyway*
Maglor: *oh good, is trying not to do that leaning-in-too-much-thing since....oh wait, is doing it again*
Maglor: *has not yet grasped concept that, without a bed to fall over onto? the leaning in for more body contact thing is not the best idea ever*
Ithiriel: *clings to him fast, so that she doesn't fall off the chair and hit her head, since... definitely would do that, in the state she's in now* *finishes chewing his lip and works her lips down his jaw, to his neck, and kisses there*
Maglor: *is breath racing already, oh sweet MERCIFUL valar, it is, and COULD NOT LOOK HAPPIER ABOUT THAT*
Maglor: *.................*
Maglor: *well, just caught breath at that thought and holds it*
Maglor: *muffled little noise since he's holding his breath?*
Ithiriel: *clings to him, and nuzzles at his neck a bit, though notices he's slowed down, and tries to follow suit* *head? so very clouded with mixed thoughts right now*
Maglor: *is not mixed, is two-sided - one side, is ready and willing and wants to just...leap into it since he's waiting so long already - the other side is being that nagging little mental Maggie voice saying 'you soooo don't want to do this yet, in case you really DO have to crawl home, don't be an elven idiot and think about HER'*
Maglor: *fidgety hands rubbing on her back, eyedarts nervously*
Ithiriel: *kisses his neck one last time, then rests her head against him* *whispers, her tone filled with regret* We have to wait.... we cannot just... rush into this. If you die .... I am not strong enough, to survive it, even if a ship took me away. *sighs, sadly*
Maglor: *siiiiiiiiighs finally and nods a little, and pets his hands over her hair* I was thinking the same, myself...otherwise, we would not be sitting out here, but would have ended up on the floor.
Maglor: Rolling our way toward the bedroom?
Maglor: I would not put you through that. But I want to return to you.
Ithiriel: I know you do. But wanting a thing does not.... always mean it will happen. *clings a bit longer, before finally detaching herself from him and rising.... then takes some time to steady herself before going to fetch the tea kettle, which is probably quite hot enough by now*
Maglor: ... *watches her and says in a stubborn low voice* I will return to you. There is no if or when. I will do so.
Ithiriel: *sets the teakettle down on the table, and looks down at it, steadily* I want to believe you.
Maglor: I will prove it to you, then.
Ithiriel: *pours water into the teacups, forcing herself to remain steady* The mortal, was named Galnir. He died, in the war. .... The most recent one, that we are still repairing the city over. When he passed, I nearly threw myself off the top tier. It's ... something I don't... tell people, of course. I just... think you need to know, why I am so reluctant to just trust this.
Maglor: I nearly considered swimming back to Valinor, several times. We both know that I would not have succeeded in that. So I am no stranger to such thoughts.
Maglor: I will not disappoint you, or my family that is here.
Maglor: *stands, walks until he's standing behind her, and then slips both arms around her waist*
Ithiriel: *snuggles in against him*
Maglor: *actually sighs happily at that and then whispers in her ear* Do not lose hope, even if I am away for longer than we would both like. I will return to you.
Ithiriel: *remembers when they were first starting out with this, and nods her head* I was the one that told you it was alright to hope.
Maglor: It is not so bad a thing, since I'm letting myself not lose hope again. I would not want you to do that, either. That is why I am going to tell Caranthir to keep you company. So he can tell you horrifying tales of what we were all like, when we were younger. *kisses next to her ear and continues to hold her like that, to keep her steady*
Ithiriel: *leans, and lets his words sink in* I will try not to lose hope again, either. If you can do it... then I can do it. And ... thank you. Though I am not sure Caranthir will enjoy my company. *chuckles softly*
Maglor: He...she...will have to learn patience at some point, and it would be good for him....her.... *makes with the ARGH face of >.<-ness*
Maglor: I think you gather my meaning. It will help bolster your spirits to be around my very very stubborn family.
Ithiriel: *laughs* I am not sure how, but I am sure it will... somehow. Perhaps because their mortal antics are so very amusing.
Maglor: *smiles at that* You should have seen us all, before.
Ithiriel: I think I would have liked that, honestly.
Maglor: Hmm...not all of it. But... *kisses the side of her neck and finally slips away* ...I will let him tell you all those things, and be suitably horrified, afterward.
Ithiriel: *eyes one of the teacups to see if they're cool enough to dare grabbing* I am sure he will delight in telling me stories, specifically to either embarrass you or horrify you... or me... perhaps both. *waves her hand over the clothing, changing the subject* These colors will suit you very handsomly.
Maglor: Oh, he will tell such things, to horrify us both. *grins just a little bit* I do not know if it is best to wear them when I set out, for I will do so very, very shortly...or if I should wear the black that I grew so fond of.
Maglor: *walks over and takes off one of the black gloves, places it down on the table, and picks up a soft grey leather glove, slipping it on over his hand and wriggling his fingers*
Maglor: *hmms a little, and tries to pull on one of the fingers of it, like its too tight*
Ithiriel: *watches his hands for a time* *likes his finger movements, is impressed with the gracefullness of them, even when wriggling in a glove* *tries to ignore the 'very very soon' comment*
Maglor: *indeed, requested the sort of gloves where just the tips of his fingers could be bare, but is looking warily at the gloves for a long moment, like considering something* *takes it off and sets it down again, on top of that package* Black would be better suited.
Ithiriel: Do you choose the black ones because I gave them to you, or because you feel your hands are still in a state of mourning? *raises an eyebrow* The grey ones seem more supple, probably doe skin instead of cow leather.
Maglor: *says simply like its the most logical thing ever* ...blood stains.
Maglor: I would never get them out of doe-skin gloves.
Ithiriel: *makes a face like 'duh'* I should have thought of that.
Ithiriel: Well, keep the grey ones, for when you play your harp.
Maglor: *smiles a little while putting on the black glove again* I will keep all of this, to wear. Once I return, for I will return. *sighs lightly and gathers up the clothes, cloak, and gloves, then walks to the room he hasn't used very much, to put them away for later*
Ithiriel: *follows him with her eyes* You might consider changing into a lighter shirt, even if it is one of mine. You are riding into the desert, and will look very conspicious all in black. *flops into a chair and takes one of the tea cups*
Maglor: *still speaking in a lighter tone of voice while putting the clothes away, like it doesn't bother him* I will wear the black.
Maglor: I do not want to come back, wearing someone else's mess all over me. *comes back out and sits down, blinks at her* I think if it was my 'sister', she might borrow a lighter colored tunic to wear, for she would get most stinky.
Ithiriel: Perhaps I merely wanted the shirt off your back for my own purposes. *smiles a bit*
Maglor: *bliiiiiiiiinks, then laughs*
Maglor: You will have your way, soon enough.
Ithiriel: *ducks her head* It would have been nice, to have something that smelled of you around, is all. But I will have your harp, and your old sword to keep me company, at least, and these gifts. *smiles, and takes a nice, fortifying sip of tea*
Maglor: ... *stands, takes it off, with much...struggling and arms flailing around a little bit, then drapes it over her knees, then walks back into the bedroom while talking* I do recall that you did bring me more than one tunic, so I will wear the other one. *rummages around for it, finds it, puts it on, bumps knee on dresser, makes a 'ow' face, then walks back out like NOTHING HAPPENED*
Maglor: *stops, looks down, frowns a bit* ...this is a very dark blue, not black.
Maglor: *can TELL now that everything else he's wearing is black* *pinches it between his thumb and index finger, pulls it out, frowns a little*
Ithiriel: *hugs the shirt to her, but drops it back down into her lap the moment he returns, and looks at him* It is dark enough to pass for black, in most circumstances, will still not show blood stains, and looks absolutely striking on you.
Maglor: It is but a poor immitation of black, though.
Maglor: *siiiiiiiiiiiiiighs like it is THE END OF ARDA*
Ithiriel: You will get used to wearing a color that is not black.
Maglor: I suppose so. At least it is not ill-fitting. *swings his arms around a little bit to make sure its loose enough* I should go seek out Caranthir, though.
Ithiriel: *looks at him* You are leaving soon, and I know you would... say your farewells to them, as well...
Maglor: *nods at that while looking at her* I do need to bid them farewell, and as the hour of my leave-taking is growing ever nearer, it would be best to do so, now.
Maglor: I already have a horse, as well.
Ithiriel: I have something.... a gift for you... *drops her teacup on the table, and stumbles to her feet*
Maglor: *blinks and rushes over to steady her*
Maglor: *rests his hands on her arms* ...take care that we do not both send the walls toppling down around us, at some point.
Ithiriel: *smiles softly, but brushes his hands off of her arms gently, and forces herself to stand there, steadily* If we send them toppling down, I would rather they toppled for other, more passionate reasons. *winks at him, and tugs at the pouch she'd put around her waist, even after changing dresses* Close your eyes, and hold your hands out.
Maglor: *blinked at what she first said, then looks wary again* ....oh, not this again. Everyone always tells me that, and then things happen. *smiles though and holds out both hands, closing his eyes*
Ithiriel: If things do not happen in this case, I will be woefully disappointed in myself. *whispers this, softly, while dumping the necklace she'd been working on into his palm* *the gem, which is a light aquamarine in color, is triangle shaped but cut in facets like a star, and it has been surrounded very lightly and simply in silver, to make a pendant, which hangs on a very long chain - long enough to hide under his shirt and rest against his heart*
Maglor: *does kind of feel something...well, would say 'unnatural' but it doesn't feel that way at all, resting in his hands* ... *peeks open one eye, then the other, and sighs out in such a way that it is a very nice and welcome surprise, indeed* *slips one finger in to hook onto the chain and holds it up to get a better look at it, then puts it on like its a thing that is meant to be treated with reverence*
Maglor: *slips it under his tunic and it does feel very warm and comforting, leans forward and presses a kiss against her lips*
Ithiriel: *kisses him, softly, lovingly,and ... a bit longingly, like she's missing him already, even though he hasn't left*
Maglor: *isn't stopping, like...well...it was the final thing he was waiting for, this gift, even if he is reminding himself that Caranthir was crafting something for him to take, as well* *feels a bit spoiled, but realizes at least that this is what might have caused her to be weary, as well* *pets a hand against the side of her face*
Ithiriel: *put almost everything she had into that stone, so yes, that would be the reason for the weariness* *wraps her arms around him, and snuggles in against him, caressing her hands everywhere they'll reach* *like she's trying to memorize what it feels like to have him there to hug*
Maglor: *is holding her in much the same way, and finally breaks the silence by saying in a soft voice* ...it will be like having you with me, almost.
Maglor: *thinks on that* It is like having you with me, but I wish you would not have worn yourself out...you will sleep for an entire Age, if you are not careful.
Maglor: I love you. Thank you for this.
Ithiriel: I will have plenty of time to sleep... I wanted you to have that with you, to remind you .... ... and maybe, if things get bleak, it will heal you some, or at least... keep you here, with us, until you can return. *kisses his cheek*
Maglor: *is getting misty-eyed now* ...I am going to go into this with the stubborness necessary to see to it that I am with you again, as soon as possible. And that I bring those swords back, as well. You will all spoil me with enough gifts...before I leave...that I may need a cart...
Ithiriel: *is really, really, trying not to cry* Take a cart,and take me with you...... ?
Maglor: *does cry but chuckled a little bit?*
Maglor: I almost wish I could.
Maglor: *thinks on that and amends* I wish you could. But I fear you've...worn yourself out, by now.
Ithiriel: I could rest on the way. I am not that tired. *shakes her head*
Maglor: *wipes at his face with one hand and draws in a deep breath, slowly letting it out* You wish to fight, then?
Maglor: I will make you a deal, which you can not refuse.
Ithiriel: *looks at him, attentively*
Maglor: I am certain now, that I will find this witch, heading south. So if I do not return shortly, if it seems as though I would have to ride into this desert that you spoke of? Then you might come after me, if you wish to. *pauses* But do not come alone.
Maglor: I want you to rest now. I do think I stand a very good chance at defeating the witch.
Maglor: *sounds and looks very hopeful while saying all that too*
Ithiriel: *frowns* Who else would I get, to come with me?
Maglor: Ask your king's permission. Perhaps he can suggest others to accompany you. Or...ask Caranthir.
Maglor: My pink moose is rather worn out, also.
Ithiriel: *runs a hand through her hair* I .. suppose that will work. But... you will return, before that becomes necessary, right? *looks at him*
Maglor: I will. *smiles at her* I will return to you, and to them, and I will have their swords with me. This plan, for you to follow, will be our 'what if'.
Ithiriel: *chews on her lip* I do not like it, but it is better than simply sitting here and waiting, if the time becomes too long.
Maglor: And if the time becomes too long, I would want to be back here, with you, as it is. *rests the tips of his fingers against her lips in a silent gesture for her to TRY not to worry too much* Ask Caranthir. Even as a woman, he is still too stubborn to be easily swayed to someone else's whims. With any hope, he has figured out new and improved ways to punch things without breaking his other fist in that frail form. *stares at her for a long moment like he's memorizing her face* I should...get ready to leave.
Ithiriel: *kisses his fingers, and looks deeply into his eyes* I will pack some food for you to bring with you, and some flasks of water.
Ithiriel: *has eyes misting up, but is trying to concentrate on other things,so that she doesn't have to concentrate on losing him, even if only for a few weeks*
Maglor: *smiles very fondly at that and nods a little* ...thank you, for everything. I should have said that before now, if I have not done so, already.
Maglor: Profusely.
Ithiriel: You have done so, profusely, and with every touch and glance and sigh. *takes his hand, squeezes it* I love you. *lets it go, and heads into the kitchen*
Maglor: I love you as well, Ithiriel. *watches her go, then...goes to fetch a black hooded cloak, secures the sword and knives to his belt, makes sure he has Caranthir's wooden-wolf carving in the pouch on his belt, and...actually, is traveling light, but is used to that*
Maglor: *reaches out and plucks a finger at a harp string, grins a little, then gives the harp a pat like he'll be back to play it again, very soon*
Ithiriel: *was busy, while wearing herself out on the gem* *made a softer, sweeter version of Lembas, and wraps a bunch of cakes in clean napkins, then also packs some cheese and dried meat, and apples since they'll keep during travel*
Ithiriel: *adds a jar of fruit jam, to spread on the lembas because .... let's face it, lembas gets boring*
Maglor: *pulls the hood of the cloak up over his head and then peeks into the kitchen, watching her* ....I don't eat that much, really. I will be a fat elf, and not be able to fit back through the big city gate. *grins hopefully at her?*
Ithiriel: Well, you will have a wide selection, and you may very well end up in a situation where you need more food, for some reason or another. And you will need enough to go, and also return....
Maglor: ... *blinks at her*
Maglor: ...I can hunt. I can't COOK very well, but I can hunt. *then nods, like he'll take it all, even if she starts packing jars of tea for him*
Ithiriel: *hands him saddlebags* I put some dried berries in the water flasks, so they will taste good and refreshing ... *looks at him* I put a bit of healing salve and bandages in there, too. *chews her lip* .... You will want to wrap something around your face, if you go into the desert.
Maglor: *takes it, shuffles around a little while standing, and watching her*
Ithiriel: *darts her eyes to one side* Do you know where you are going, without the map?
Maglor: *is torn between going and staying now, is mentally kicking his own ass for even THINKING that, and just nods* *says in a very soft voice* ...I made it a point to memorize it.
Ithiriel: ... good...
Maglor: I know where Ithilien and the Poros are...and I know if I cross the Poros, then I am heading into the Harad, and... *voice trails off*
Ithiriel: *nods her head* There are plenty of caravan routes, and it is more likely that she will take those,since... well, what has she to fear in her own land?
Maglor: ....yes, that is true....
Ithiriel: Just .... Watch your left side. You do not defend it as well as your right. ... and.... I... think it probably best if you try and surprise her so that you can gag her but, I think some witches also use their hands..
Ithiriel: *trails off, falls silent*
Maglor: Yes, I now...I did not have another weapon, in that hand...as I once...used to...and....I doubt that witch has tried to weave spells on very old elves and..... *trails off too, while looking at her*
Ithiriel: You can use your knives as an offhand weapon or .... take my sword?
Maglor: ...knife...yes. Keep your sword with you.
Ithiriel: *nods her head* *worries at the sleeve of her dress*
Maglor: ...so...I should... *kind of points toward the door* ...farewell, for a short time.
Maglor: And I love you...and...I can't wait to have thirty-two children with you.
Ithiriel: I love you ... and... neither can I, so... please come back...and quickly...
Maglor: I will, as quickly as I can...as soon as I can.
Ithiriel: *nods her head, and starts making her way to the door*
Maglor: *follows, follows, follows...kisses?*
Ithiriel: *kisses him, briefly* *doesn't want to linger in it, now, it'll just hurt worse* *goes outside, and secures the saddlebags herself, then makes sure all the tack on the horse is secure, too*
Maglor: *no, it was a nice farewell-for-now kiss, but nothing too drawn out, is feeling much the same way* *followed her to where the horse is, in silence, then realizes while facepalming* I have to go bid farewell to Caranthir and my pink moose, before I can leave.
Ithiriel: Take the horse and everything with you, that way you can argue that you are only stopping briefly, and are already on your way... *andthenyouwon'thavetocomebackhereandsay
Maglor: *bites his lower lip while looking at her, and then nods, takes hold of the reins so he can lead the horse down along with him, to the inn*
Maglor: ...on my way, yes....so I can return...and thirty-two little elflings...right.
Ithiriel: ... seven .... perhaps eight.... *nods her head*
Maglor: ...shocks others all the more, saying thirty-two. *nods at her*
Ithiriel: Maglor. *reaches out, and takes his hand, then squeezes it*
Maglor: *sighs out her name* *squeezes her hand in return*
Ithiriel: You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me. *kisses his cheek*
Maglor: *blushes a bit at that, but luckily ears? are covered by cloak hood* And you are the star that shines brightest to me, and will guide my way home.
Ithiriel: *nods her head at him, and makes a shooing motion with her hand* Go. Go and say goodbye to your moose, and sister, and then ... get out of here, so that you can come back.
Maglor: *sighs as he speaks* I'm going, I'm goiiiiiing... *leads the horse out and down the city street*
Ithiriel: *heads back inside, picks up his shirt, walks into 'his' room, stares at his harp for a while, hugs his shirt, and then decides to cry, like... seriously, seriously, cry*