The Mereth Aderthad is a whirl of noise, of nobles and lords from both the Noldor themselves as well as emissaries from the Falathrim, the Sindar and the Silvan, and even the Avari. Most interesting to all, of course, are the emissaries of the Sindar, for seldom indeed does Thingol open his borders to send anyone out!
Rumors fly about and Maglor smiles a prince's smile but keeps both ears open. He knows why Maedhros invited him, specifically, rather than any of his brothers. He has a job to do.
In admist all the bustle, his eyes are drawn back, though, over and over, to the Doriathrim. Only three came, but three of such renown! Beleg Strongbow, Mablung Heavyhand, and the last, an unexpected pleasure - Daeron, who Maglor's Silvan friends all tell him is his match, or even his better. Some part of Maglor twists, fighting the bonds of court manners and politics that keep him in his place, wanting to go and meet him properly, to learn more about him.
Later, later. When everyone is in their cups. For now he turns another smile at his eager audience, and strikes up another song on his harp.
Daeron is of like mind. Later is a promise silent between them, expressed with the flick of eyes and a hint of smile as the prince of Doriath pays his respects to the Feanoriath with his dear companions.
He's learned to appreciate those not like him, and how to reign his extra skills in. But sometimes he doesn't care to. Rare, for the consequences, he's been taught, aren't always what one would expect.
Instead, he helps charm those emissaries like himself, and their hosts, to make the gathering merry along with Maglor. He settles in beside the other bard and melds his music with the other, harp and voice teasing the Noldo into playing through the music they both know intimately.
Maglor shouldn't sell himself short! Daeron is having fun playing beside, with, him! Fun that he only really had with his sister and mother.
But he has to be careful not to put too much into his music. Just a touch, a taste, is enough. Tensions are high enough, but good cheer can only help sooth them. And he's enjoying himself, more than he'd thought he would for being free of his mother's immediate protection.
He doesn't give in to the desire to watch his fellow musician though, keeping his eyes attentively on the crowd around them instead. But he's aware of the intense gaze on him, and he can't always ignore it. Gives in with a flicker of eyes, a playful little smile when their music turns particularly challenging.
But even formal pleasantries and the subsequent feast come to the point where music can be left to those who play with less...fervor. Daeron stands and drifts off, harp tucked gently under an arm. A glance over a shoulder at Maglor invites the other elf to join him...or not.
Maglor barely controls himself long enough to politely excuse himself and
follow after his fellow bard, drawn by the teasing strains of music he can
hear.
(It's politics, he reminds himself, and knows that he is lying)
His fellows are used to him wandering off at the oddest of times. Daeron hardly even thinks about it, though at least has forced himself to observe enough to not be downright rude to those who don't know him.
But the trees draw him, and he must answer. It's only a bonus that he senses Maglor follow soon after. He lets himself be heard, if only to those who can hear the Music almost as well as he can. He's even right, that Maglor is one of them.
He's leaning against one of the trees, listening to it's song with eyes closed when Maglor comes upon him, but holds his silence, waiting for the other to speak first.
He's never seen the Trees, yet still there's a Light about him. Strange and terrifying to some, but it's part of him. Daeron resists the hum that wishes to break free, instead simply smiles, eyes opening just a little to study the Noldo prince.
"Unlike you. Ask what you will, I might even answer."
Like Luthien, Daeron is happiest under trees or swimming. Both call to him, asking him to play! He resists though, deciding to spend some of this time with Maglor, who is interesting.
Laughter brightens silver eyes and he grins, quick and bright. "Maybe because he knew I wanted to come." And one reason is before him.
"And I am grateful! But none of the reports mentioned that the one they
compared me to was Thingol's own son!" He murmurs, watching Daeron with
Treebright eyes.
"I am both flatters that reports of my skill reach so far and pleased that
the comparisons fall short of reality."
Strangely enough, silver eyes do not seem to blink, so intent are they on Maglor. He's been told this is strange, but sometimes it's difficult to remember, when he's fascinated by something, or someone.
Daeron laughs softly, quick and light as starlight. "And why should they, when I am all but unknown?" Playful.
"Not so short as you think. I am not disappointed as yet with your skill, though surely you have not shown all!"
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timeasmymeasure
YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS
Date: 2019-12-11 06:53 am (UTC)Rumors fly about and Maglor smiles a prince's smile but keeps both ears open. He knows why Maedhros invited him, specifically, rather than any of his brothers. He has a job to do.
In admist all the bustle, his eyes are drawn back, though, over and over, to the Doriathrim. Only three came, but three of such renown! Beleg Strongbow, Mablung Heavyhand, and the last, an unexpected pleasure - Daeron, who Maglor's Silvan friends all tell him is his match, or even his better. Some part of Maglor twists, fighting the bonds of court manners and politics that keep him in his place, wanting to go and meet him properly, to learn more about him.
Later, later. When everyone is in their cups. For now he turns another smile at his eager audience, and strikes up another song on his harp.
I DO
Date: 2019-12-11 07:52 am (UTC)He's learned to appreciate those not like him, and how to reign his extra skills in. But sometimes he doesn't care to. Rare, for the consequences, he's been taught, aren't always what one would expect.
Instead, he helps charm those emissaries like himself, and their hosts, to make the gathering merry along with Maglor. He settles in beside the other bard and melds his music with the other, harp and voice teasing the Noldo into playing through the music they both know intimately.
Re: I DO
Date: 2019-12-11 08:45 am (UTC)It is...intoxicating, exhilirating, wonderful to play with someone of equal...no, he is not so proud that he cannot admit it - his better.
Daeron is intriguing on so many levels. He doesn't even sound fully elven which is interesting, as no one said anything about Thingol having a son.
Maglor is drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and he can barely take his eyes from him, even after the official pleasantries are done.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-11 09:08 am (UTC)But he has to be careful not to put too much into his music. Just a touch, a taste, is enough. Tensions are high enough, but good cheer can only help sooth them. And he's enjoying himself, more than he'd thought he would for being free of his mother's immediate protection.
He doesn't give in to the desire to watch his fellow musician though, keeping his eyes attentively on the crowd around them instead. But he's aware of the intense gaze on him, and he can't always ignore it. Gives in with a flicker of eyes, a playful little smile when their music turns particularly challenging.
But even formal pleasantries and the subsequent feast come to the point where music can be left to those who play with less...fervor. Daeron stands and drifts off, harp tucked gently under an arm. A glance over a shoulder at Maglor invites the other elf to join him...or not.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-11 09:24 am (UTC)Maglor barely controls himself long enough to politely excuse himself and follow after his fellow bard, drawn by the teasing strains of music he can hear.
(It's politics, he reminds himself, and knows that he is lying)
no subject
Date: 2019-12-11 09:31 am (UTC)But the trees draw him, and he must answer. It's only a bonus that he senses Maglor follow soon after. He lets himself be heard, if only to those who can hear the Music almost as well as he can. He's even right, that Maglor is one of them.
He's leaning against one of the trees, listening to it's song with eyes closed when Maglor comes upon him, but holds his silence, waiting for the other to speak first.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-11 09:48 am (UTC)Maglor stops at the edge of the trees, watching him.
"You are a mystery, Prince." He murmurs. "Your family has kept you very secret."
no subject
Date: 2019-12-11 09:53 am (UTC)"Unlike you. Ask what you will, I might even answer."
no subject
Date: 2019-12-11 10:24 am (UTC)Like and not like, and Maglor drifts closer, intrigued, drawn by the light that reminds him of home, and yet is utterly a part of Beleriand.
He laughs softly. "I would not know where to start! I am honestly surprised your father would allow you to come, considering what he thinks of us."
no subject
Date: 2019-12-11 10:57 am (UTC)Laughter brightens silver eyes and he grins, quick and bright. "Maybe because he knew I wanted to come." And one reason is before him.
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Date: 2019-12-11 11:09 am (UTC)Maglor snorts, amused.
"And why did you want to come, O Mighty Singer?"
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Date: 2019-12-11 11:15 am (UTC)"Curiosity. I've been hearing of a Noldo bard who sings and plays with great skill, and was given the report that he would be attending."
no subject
Date: 2019-12-11 11:33 am (UTC)Maglor smiles, flattered.
"And I am grateful! But none of the reports mentioned that the one they compared me to was Thingol's own son!" He murmurs, watching Daeron with Treebright eyes.
"I am both flatters that reports of my skill reach so far and pleased that the comparisons fall short of reality."
no subject
Date: 2019-12-11 11:45 am (UTC)Daeron laughs softly, quick and light as starlight. "And why should they, when I am all but unknown?" Playful.
"Not so short as you think. I am not disappointed as yet with your skill, though surely you have not shown all!"
no subject
Date: 2019-12-11 12:06 pm (UTC)"Thank you! And neither have you, I doubt. Not in such a place as that."
Public performances are not for showing off. Not that way, in any case.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-11 12:19 pm (UTC)Daeron grins, drifting ever closer. "Certainly not," he murmurs serenely. "We could change this, here, if you wish. If your brother can spare you."
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Date: 2019-12-11 12:26 pm (UTC)"Maedhros won't mind. I told him I was ... seeking to strengthen alliances." Technically true.
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Date: 2019-12-11 12:36 pm (UTC)Since he's agreed...
Daeron grabs for a hand to drag him further into the trees, steps light and quick. Purposely breaking eye-contact...for now.
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Date: 2019-12-11 12:42 pm (UTC)"We'd best not go too far, or we might run into the outer sentries." He warns.
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Date: 2019-12-11 12:51 pm (UTC)But he does slow, listening then stops and lets go of Maglor's hand. "They won't hear us," he assures, turning to smile at the Noldo.
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Date: 2019-12-11 01:01 pm (UTC)"Somehow, I am not surprised." He smiles back. "What do you propose?"
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Date: 2019-12-11 01:07 pm (UTC)"Play for me, and I will see to match or better it."
no subject
Date: 2019-12-11 01:22 pm (UTC)"Very well. And are we to have a forfeit?"
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Date: 2019-12-11 01:27 pm (UTC)"Should I lose, you may ask of me what you will."
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Date: 2019-12-11 01:33 pm (UTC)"A tempting prize indeed! Then I will offer the same - tis only fair."
He plays an idle tune for a moment and then shifts into one of the hyms of Valinor - a song in praise of Varda. One he wrote himself, of course.
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