Your playing has gotten lighter.
Who: Ithiriel, Maglor, Gladharil, Elrond!npc What: Ithi and Maglor chat, Gladha comes to check in, does some healing, Ithi gets "ill", Elrond lectures... awkward moments! When: Yesterday!
Ithiriel: *is okay, really!*
Maglor: ....
Ithiriel: *reaches out a hand for his, and squeezes it*
Maglor: *takes her hand in his* *is not okay, really, but isn't about to talking about it when she's already feeling miserable*
Maglor: *smiles at her*
Ithiriel: *isn't feeling that miserable, actually* *smiles* Your playing has gotten lighter.
Maglor: ...it is...more for the sake of lightening the hearts of others, as this seems a trying time. *keeps smiling though, as insists on pleasant things right now, or is trying to stick with that*
Ithiriel: *wrinkles her brow* I fear I have worried you overly much... You seem.... much less happy than you were when ... .. well ... before all this.
Maglor: *shakes his head a little bit* I would not have you sit in a corner, sewing, all the time. *rests his other hand over hers and appears to be in some other thoughtful place where...its somewhat far off and distant for a moment*
Maglor: *says softly, all of a sudden* ...I think I will go buy one of those stinky meat things, on a stick. *looks over at her* Would you like one?
Ithiriel: *wrinkles her nose* No, I think not. But do not let that stop you from getting one.
Maglor: *nods and lets go, standing up* I think I will go try one, just to see why my father...gobbled his down so greedily. *smiles at her* I will be back, shortly. *departs but leaves the harp there*
Gladharil: *WAS FINALLY TOLD ABOUT ITHIRIEL!**runs to the Healing Houses!*
Ithiriel: *half-awake, but at least Elrond isn't hovering*
Gladharil: *is now hovering, worridly*
Ithiriel: *moves the focus of her eyes over to Gladharil, smiles a bit* Aerhen must have found you..
Gladharil: *nods her head**sits, taking the woman's good hand* How are you feeling?
Ithiriel: *squeezes her hand* .. I am fine.
Gladharil: You are not.
Ithiriel: *eyedarts* Lord Elrond seems to think I am about as delicate as one of those night blooming flowers. *rolls her eyes* But ... really... it is minor, and I should be out soon.
Gladharil: You nearly lost a finger! How is that minor.
Ithiriel: *eyedarts, again* That is my fault, for grabbing a blade bare-handed.
Gladharil: ITHIRIEL!
Ithiriel: *winces* Did he also mention I was kicked in the head? You ... do not need to shriek at me.... not even Maglor has done that, though he has been paniced.
Gladharil: It was foolish to catch a blade like that! WE are not lizards, we don't just..grow new fingers, but we CAN heal from being stabbed in the stomach >.<
Ithiriel: Yes and I appreciate you telling me the difference, now that it is already GONE. *blinks, chews her lip* I may not have survived being stabbed in the stomach, either.... I have nothing to heal myself with, and Galadriel and Elrond were both ... very busy saving the King.
Gladharil: *sighs, pulls Ithi against her*
Ithiriel: *hugs at her* Maglor went to get... something to eat, but he does not know how bad the finger is, so... please do not tell him.
Gladharil: I won't...he will still wed you though, even if you lost an entirehand.
Ithiriel: I am not so sure of that. *frowns, lets out a little sigh*
Gladharil: *rolls her eyes* He does not love you because you have fingers.
Ithiriel: He loves me because he has hope that it will not go crashing down around him.... just like he has hope, that I will NOT lose a finger....
Gladharil: *sighs* If he does not love you for you, he doesn't DESERVE you!
Ithiriel: *frowns* He is... fragile. I love him very much, but I.... just have no idea how he'd take it...
Gladharil: He will likely find a way to blame himself. Like an idiot. You're both idiots. >.>
Ithiriel: ... yeah ... Well ..
Gladharil: *sits on the bed next to Ithi, and takes her other hand* I wish someone had told me sooner. Unlike the rest of you, apparently, I'm untapped.
Ithiriel: *looks away from her* Listen, I.. really think, that you should get ready to go to the harbor. And ... you can take a look if you want. *swallows* I've watched him work on my hand 3 times now... *shakes her head*
Gladharil: *is going to heal until she drops <3* Harbor?
Ithiriel: Harbor. And .. do not be stupid. *eyes her*
Gladharil: Which harbor. *is going to be stupid!*
Ithiriel: The one elves go to, when they're sailing away from here.
Gladharil: Are you telling me to sail? Which part of I'm "not sailing without you" Don't you understand?
Ithiriel: I'm telling you that if things go much more wrong, you are going to have to put me on a ship.
Gladharil: ..... *bows her head a bit and just concentrates*
Ithiriel: *pulls her hand away*
Gladharil: *grabs her wrist and holds it*
Ithiriel: *tries to fight her* Stop. Stop it. If Elrond cannot re-attach limbs, neither can you.
Gladharil: Do I have to have your betrothed sit on you so I can at least try? *blows hair out of her face and looks cross at Ithiriel* All the ground work is laid, your body should be mending on it's own,but because you wasted yourself, you need someone else to...push things along. And Elrond and the Lady both drained themselves on the King.
Gladharil: there fore. Stay. Still.
Ithiriel: ... You are going to waste yourself....
Gladharil: Let me, then.
Maglor: *has no idea anything's going on, is too busy picking at piece of stinky meat on a stick and thinking it does smell terrible, but is still edible at the same time...ponders it as some great irony of Arda or something*
Ithiriel: .. Yukale ... please. I never should have wasted myself. That was the lesson I learned... do you need to learn it too? What if something worse happens? Much worse than a finger ... who then, will we call on?
Gladharil: *unwraps the bandages a bit, peeks in, winces, checks some stitches, and gets more focused and precise*
Ithiriel: *starts crying*
Gladharil: *blinks!* Calm down. Please. I'm not going to push myself..Much.
Ithiriel: That is what I said... and then I woke up with the Lady's face staring into mine. *blinks tears out of her eyes*
Gladharil: >.>
Ithiriel: *stops fighting her* Just... do it, if you are going to ... but do not do it simply because you think he will not love me with four fingers instead of five.
Gladharil: I do it because you're my best friend, and because I love you...*even if not the way she thought she did, apparently*
Ithiriel: I love you too ... but if you over-tax yourself... I will be the first person to smack you... even if it saves my finger. *whispers this*
Gladharil: ^_^ *kisses her cheek, SCHMACKS!*
Schmack = SMOOTCHY KISS OF DOOM!
Gladharil: *decides she should pull back and concentrate on healing before she wants to kiss Ithi elsewhere**just particularly...feeling lonely latelly*
Ithiriel: *remembers Maglor telling her to hope* *lays back, still a bit taken by surprise as far as the cheek-kissing goes, and tries to think happy thoughts*
Gladharil: *closes her eyes, and just wooorks*
Ithiriel: *closes her eyes, still blinking tears out of them* *winces, every so often*
Gladharil: *eventually has to stop, and wraps them in new bandages, and some more ice to stop the swelling*
Ithiriel: *tries bending her fingers, even in the bandaging, even just wiggling them a bit. Pales more than she already is, hisses*
Gladharil: Yes, it hurts. Don't do that. *laughs*
Ithiriel: I was hoping.. that you would make it STOP hurting...
Gladharil: I'm afraid I can't do that.
Ithiriel: ... is it less .... normal looking, at least?
Gladharil: There might be colour returning...a little. I'll do some more later..*pulls up a chair and curls up in it**has decided it's better to just work in shifts over time, rather than blow her wad all at once*
Ithiriel: ..... just... don't do too much. It isn't worth it.
Maglor: *wanders back into healing houses, with his second sausage-on-a-stick, and is pondering its mysteries even more, that he felt compelled to buy a second one*
Gladharil: *smiles at her* *leans in and kisses her on the nose* I may rest a bit, to recoup what I lost *still nose to nose*
Maglor: *walks into room, glances at the king and sighs, then comes around the screen in mid-sausage-picking* ... *blinks* ... *steps baaaaaaack behind the screen, blinks some more*
Ithiriel: Gladharil.... .... thank you, but... ... well thank you, just... do not kill yourself over this. Honestly.
Gladharil: How many times to I have to tell you >.< You're my best friend. I can afford to be tired for a few hours, if it helps you heal. *sits back*
Maglor: *blink* *blinkblink* *fidget-picks a piece of sausage off the stick and eats it, without really thinking about it*
Ithiriel: A mortal healer would have given up already. *whispers this, and sinks back against her pillows* Even Lord Elrond left it up to ... fate... or the valar... or whatever.
Gladharil: *sighs* I've not given up on harder things.
Ithiriel: But I will hope that you can do something through sheer stubborn will, that they cannot. *smirks at Gladharil, wearily*
Gladharil: *hops over to the chair**pulls her legs up* *giggles* For payment, I only ask that you have little elflings for me to spoil and babysit.
Maglor: >.>; *sighs and fidgetpicks at the sausage while walking around the screen this time and staying put instead of sneaking back around it* *is studying the sausage like it is an object worthy of MEDITATION AND CONTEMPLATION*
Ithiriel: Thirty-two, apparently... *whispers this, with a smile, and then catches sight of Maglor and her smile? Brightens considerably*
Gladharil: *turns!**waves!*
Maglor: *catches sight of that and smiles? back* *holds out the sausage in sort of the same manner that Feanorians do when they go 'point!'*
Gladharil: *blinks*
Ithiriel: ..... *tilts her head* Meleth?
Maglor: Yes?
Ithiriel: ... Why are you pointing at me with a sausage?
Maglor: *is still holding it out like it should be meditated upon* *yes, is doing that* *blinks*
Gladharil: *giggles*
Maglor: They really...are not...all that bad.
Ithiriel: *arches a brow* They smell so hideous.
Maglor: They smell terrible, but the taste is much different. I can not place what the meat is. It is like...combined of some organs or some such, likely from sheep.
Gladharil: *wrinkles her nose cutely*
Gladharil: Stinky.
Ithiriel: It is making my stomach turn. *chuckles* But I am glad you find them so tasty?
Maglor: ...at least I know why my Ada liked them so much. *shrugs a little, sits in another chair*
sausage: *is mystery meat <3*
Gladharil: They look kind of..phallic.
Maglor: *blinkblinks at her*
Ithiriel: *blinks* *eyedarts* *blushes*
Gladharil: What?
Maglor: ... *bliiiiiinks, then shakes his head and picks another piece off and eats it*
Gladharil: >.> *blushes*
Maglor: *is trying not to blush*
Gladharil: *shuts her mouth*
Maglor: *is doing rather good at not blushing because is trying not to ponder on any further thoughts about bonding processes, since...yes...bettertowait* *has found new object of pondering: the mystery sausage impaled on a stick!*
Ithiriel: *is kind of lost in her thoughts, at the moment, all of a sudden like*
Maglor: *says softly after he's done chewing and has swallowed* ...I think that had some liver in it.
Gladharil: So when is the wedding?
Maglor: *appears thoughtful for a moment, then smiles? at her and says simply (but not unkindly)* ...later. There is no rush.
Gladharil: Define later. *smiles innocently* Have a season picked?
Maglor: ...... *blinks at her with a round-eyed look of...not knowingness* *starts picking the meat out of the sausage and stares up at the ceiling like its a new thing to be pondered over* ....we...I...next...two? Next...season....I think, yes. *finishes finally* ...perhaps.
Gladharil: Summer then? That is soon!
Maglor: ...end of? *is really picking the sausage apart now and not eating it* ...well...then...the season perhaps...maybe...after that? *finishes THAT with* ...I do not know.
Gladharil: *looks at Ithiriel*
Maglor: *looks at her also, then mindfully adds* ...whenever she would like and is ready...
Ithiriel: *has an extremely dreamy cast to her eyes, and is about as white as a very transparent white sheet?*
Gladharil: *nods approvingly* ... *frowns, and pushes Ithi so she's laying down*
Maglor: .... *looks worried* ...she is not simply...letting her thoughts stray...is she....
Gladharil: I was..healing her a bit earlier.
Maglor: *mild note of panic in his voice* ...I am not a healer...but...I do not think our kind should look like that...after being 'healed'....
Gladharil: *calm voice as she stands, taking Maglor's arm, and walks him out of the room* She's fine. *grabs Elrond on the way back >.>*
Maglor: ...she does not look fine... *threw the sausage at some point, when he was being dragged out* *is fidgeting very very nervously outside the room, nonetheless*
Gladharil: *points at Ithi* Fix her!
Elrond: .... What did you do!?
Maglor: *distraught looking while poking his head into the room*
Gladharil: I was working on her finger, since you were all drained and could not treat her on that level. It was a bad color. It isn't any longer. >.<
Elrond: *checks her hand, nods his head* *grudgingly* Good work. *looks into her eyes*
Maglor: *thinks this isn't a good thing for him to be listening to right now, so sits down on the floor outside the door and winces slightly*
Gladharil: *exhales, looks relieved*
Elrond: Limbs change color when the tissue that makes them up is dying. It is no longer dying, which means blood is probably working its way into it ... good, in that the finger will not be lost.
Gladharil: >.> *softly* She may not regain full use, depending.
Elrond: I would leave that upto her body, not you. You will learn, as a healer, that you cannot do everything.
Gladharil: I restored the blood flow >.<
Elrond: It was good work. I would point, however, that the reason I did not do that myself this morning when I was finally capable, is that the dead parts are now working their way into her body.
Gladharil: *facepalms* Hence why she is pale, her body must fight that now. I'm going to be busy the next few days >.>
Elrond: Let medicines do the work.
Gladharil: *gets this stubborn set to her jaw*
Elrond: I think she is too stubborn for this to kill her, when everything else has not. You risk yourself by trying to work those parts out of her... where would they go? Into you?
Elrond: That is how we relieve pain, at times, and that is likely how the Lady took care of the poison in Aragorn's system. She was asleep for a day. I would not want to know what it would do to you.
Gladharil: >.> I would take it, for her.
Elrond: *gives her a twitchy!look*
Gladharil: You would not do the same for a loved one?
Elrond: That is a waste of another good healer, when most of our healers are already wasted. *just LOOKS at her*
Gladharil: >.> Point.
Elrond: We are wasting time. *goes over to the jars, starts putting together a mixture* There aught to be hot water somewhere in the houses. Find it, and pour it into a cup.
Gladharil: *dashes out to do so, on her way back, pokes Maglor in the arm* You can come see her now. She is just going through a bit of a rough patch. Nothing life-threatening, but uncomfortable.
Maglor: *looks....very uncertainly up at her, then stands and follows into the room with an expression of -_-*
Elrond: *takes the cup, puts the herbs he's mixed together into it, and hands it to Maglor* Wake her up, and make her drink that. And let me know if she appears worse as opposed to better. *walks out* *has more important patients to check on* *like Aragorn*
Gladharil: *randomly* I'm sorry about the Silmarils comment when we first met. I sometimes blurt things out before I think them over >.>
Maglor: *nearly dropped the cup and is back to looking somewhat frantic again* *walks over to the bed, nearly bumped a leg on it and sent tea flying, tries NOT to fidget and....leans down a little bit* ...its...its fine...
Maglor: ...meleth? Ithiriel? Um...blink, please?
Gladharil: ..sorry
Maglor: ...no, no...its nothing...I'm not...getting used to...by now... *very carefully pokes a finger into her shoulder but not too hard* ...you need to drink this?
Ithiriel: *blinks* .... mmm?
Gladharil: *pats his shoulder apologetically*
Maglor: *shows her the cup?*
Maglor: *nearly spilled it on her at the pat, caught self before spilling it, though*
Gladharil: *gives up, sits down*
Maglor: *helps tilt her head up so he can help her drink it*
Ithiriel: *wrinkles her nose* Eru's sake.. that smells worse than that sausage.
Maglor: ...sausage...is on the floor somewhere...it is probably that you smell...just...do not smell it...? I meant, do not think about it! That's what I meant. Here, Elrond says to drink this...
Ithiriel: *squints at the teacup, then lets out a sigh, and does as she's told, since.... most people do that when Elrond's talking*
Maglor: *helps her while she's drinking and then finally takes the cup away and stares down into it, and then gives her a wide-eyed look of franticness*
Gladharil: *thinks this elf is v. high strung, like a cat*
Maglor: *whispers to her* ...do not get worse...
Ithiriel: I am ... TRYING.... to get better...
Ithiriel: *gives Glahdaril this look like whatever new development this is? Has got to be her fault*
Maglor: I know, I know...just....only think on getting better...yes, do that. *nods quite a bit*
Ithiriel: *smiles, reassuringly?* I was fine, earlier...
Gladharil: *explains for them both* I was able to..restore the blood flow. But now your body must do some more work to heal, than it was before. So! You just need to rest more, and drink that tea. This is a good thing.
Maglor: *is still watching her, much like...some paranoid bird that if something even LOOKS like its going to sneeze around it, will go flying off...except to go get help* *says softly* ...see? It is a very good thing. *tries to reassure himself by saying that* *then fidgets and nearly drops the cup*
Gladharil: *gently takes the cup from him*
Maglor: *nods like, yes, maybe that's a good thing >.>* *folds arms so nothing gets broken*
Ithiriel: *reaches out for Maglor's hand, ends up getting arm instead, caresses it a bit* I am very stubborn. I want to be here, and marry you, and have all thirty two of those children. I will.
Gladharil: *grins* Marry in the summer.
Maglor: *now blushes, and smiles with a bit more ease to it* *takes hold of her hand* ...in the summer, then.
Ithiriel: Summer. *nods her head*
Gladharil: >.> With a pretty dress.
Maglor: *looks at Gladharil like 'a what?'*
Ithiriel: I have ... he bought me this gorgeous blue one....
Maglor: *nodnods, yes, did that! look at the nodding! these 'party dress' things are not...really...what is a party dress?* *is thinky* *thinks they're...probably froofy maybe?*
Gladharil: No no a pretty WEDDING dress!
Maglor: ....I will need to sing for a great many more coins, in order to clothe myself in the manner that I once did.
Gladharil: *Pffts* I can help with that
Maglor: No, no...I can do that, myself...after she is well again. *gives Ithiriel's hand a light but reassuring squeeze*
Gladharil: *watches them**gets this slightly sad-but-happy expression on her face*
Maglor: ...at least I will not have to worry about putting anything in my hair...and I do not know the cost of silver things as it is.... *is pensive*
Ithiriel: *squeezes his hand* ... do not forget that I... have some coins as well.
Gladharil: You two are splendid together. ^_^
Maglor: ...I do not know the cost of a wedding dress, either...so you may need those coins.... *points over to Gladharil* ...this elf seems to be set on the idea and... o.O @ that*
Gladharil: She is like a sister to me. *withsoftlips*
Maglor: *notes earlier walking-in-on* ...I did not often touch noses with my brothers. Perhaps it is different between sisters, then.
Ithiriel: Gladharil has known me for so long that she is likely the only one who can still call me by my mother name with any effect. *chuckles, weakly*
Maglor: *blinks at that and then asks* ...what is your mother-name?
Gladharil: *smirky* Rhiwen.
Ithiriel: *shudders*
Maglor: ... *smiiiiiiles down at Ithiriel*
Gladharil: I like to think she has thawed.
Maglor: Stubbornly, perhaps.
Ithiriel: She named me so because I was as stubbornly unmoving and frigid as the mountain passes. I think in many ways she was right, but we do not use that name anymore. I prefer the first one.
Maglor: I will only use it when you need reminding if you become stubborn, then.
Gladharil: Because of the way your skin shimmers in the moonlight. *gigglewink*
Ithiriel: *blushes pink again* We need not mention the way my skin shimmers in the moonlight. >.<
Maglor: *is looking like he's considering testing that out...maaaaaaybe*
Ithiriel: *is looking a little better, already*
Gladharil: *continues, evilly* Shimmers, and water glistening like the stars. *glances at Maglor impishly* We've been known to skinny dip. *ruthless at embarassing her friend, even at her own sake!*
Maglor: *finally sits down and almost laughed at that* ...well, one sometimes has no choice where they bathe when out in the wild, and I have been known to...leap into a stream now and then, also. But never when anyone else was nearby.
Gladharil: *schemes* Ithiriel will need help bathing.
Ithirel: MISTWEN! ><
Gladharil: What?!
Maglor: *is blinking, lots, and face is turning a nice shade of pink*
Gladharil: Would you rather a stranger do so? Or Eru forbid, Elrond?
Ithiriel: ..... please.. do not scare my betrothed away.. please.
Maglor: o.O
Ithiriel: ...... *O.O*
Gladharil: If he is scared of bathing his woman, than we have more problems than you realize. *in that 'is he gay?' sorta way*
Maglor: o.O; *......is mortified* *by other elf sitting there with them*
Ithiriel: *would facepalm, if she had free hands, starts sinking below her blankets*
Gladharil: Prudes -_-
Maglor: *looks like he wants to do the same but that bed is not big enough to hide the both of them* ...no...no, no....I could...do that...without...it being an issue....it is only...helping out in some small way....
Maglor: *is blushing like #o.O#* *flustered*
Gladharil: What issue? It is just your body.
Ithiriel: *hiding under covers completely now*
Maglor: ...no, no issue, there is no issue....I did not mean that, I think I meant....it is not an issue...as far as.... *slips into quenya and blurts out* ...I meant it is not an issue that...we wouldn't be...I mean I wouldn't be...compelled to...want to...it is not an issue! *still has ahold of her good hand*
Gladharil: You're blushing. It's cute.
Maglor: *is blushing, and looking like...if there was a convenient hole nearby...he'd be crawling into it and dying there right now*
Gladharil: I've seen her naked dozens of times. *it's so much easier to talk about this, but she can get just as flustered with faced with it XD*
Maglor: ...I think I am hungry again. Does anyone want a sausage on a stick?
Ithiriel: *whimpers*
Maglor: *is panic-like because does not want to seem like...the entirely inept socially-awkward elf that he is in front of...wife...spouse...mate...* Was that a yes? Good. Gladharil...you will come WITH me.
Gladharil: *..wants to make a jest about Ithi wanting Maglor's sausage on a stick, but just CAN'T* I can bring you both something to eat. ^_^
Gladharil: I will? O.o
Ithiriel: *does not mind, loves him, is socially .... well ... inept right NOW*
Maglor: Oh no, no....you are going to come WITH me. *will try to get over ineptness after he's like 'what the VALAR is wrong with that mouth of yours' outside* *kisses Ithiriel's hand since...she's hiding, like he wants to*
Gladharil: *gets up**straightens out her dress*
Maglor: *tells her in quenya* I love you and will return shortly...try to get some rest, think on our wedding and what you would like ...and do not worry? *or try not to, as that's hard sometimes for even him to do* *lets go of her hand and stands up*
Gladharil: *leads Maglor out cheerfully*
Ithiriel: *in Quenya* I love you ... I will rest, and .. think, and not worry too much, promise!.
Ithiriel: *sinks into a nice sleep the moment they're gone*
Maglor: *nodded at that even though she couldn't see it, and is pulled out of the room*