Open RP

[twilightminstrel]

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[bythewaves]

They are not friends, the two greatest bards of Elvendom, the twilight of the forest, and the moon of the sea. They will, perhaps, never really ever be friends - too much blood between them, now.

But they are rivals, yes, and comrades, also, two of the few who can truly hear the Song of the world.

They meet, and they part, and they are not friends, no. But perhaps they are something like it.

When Maglor finds himself amongst the stars he does not think of Daeron, does not expect or wish for him to be there.

But when he hears that voice...

[returnedgold]

The door slams shut with bang, and one Loren DelaFiore, currently headmaster of Elf Academy, drops his bag to the ground and flops dramatically onto the couch.

"Why exactly did we think this was a good idea again?" He grumbles to anyone (and no one) within range and shuts his eyes, rubbing his nose with a sigh.

[twilightminstrel]

If there was anything between them at all, it was a mutual love and respect of Music. Sometimes that was enough, though Daeron never forgot either what he did, or what he knew Maglor had done.

Another thing they had in common was a keen sense of self-hatred.

They should both be long gone, and yet somehow, it never ends. He'd never wanted to sail, though he didn't begrudge others for going.

Then perhaps one of the more frightening things happened, and the former minstrel of Doriath struggled not to gasp for breath, learning he was in space! The walls felt far too close, despite knowing objectively they were right where they should be.

"If any know of another who needs a minstrel..." A soft voice ventured, uneasy with reaching out to those he neither knew nor could see.

[twilightminstrel]

Darren Harper had just been having a nice cup of tea, reading when he heard a certain elf come in with such flare it drew a smile. He poured a second cup and walked over to his friend and held it out in offer. "Because it was."

[bythewaves]

That voice, that voice, as wild as the trees which birthed it, grey sorrow forever wound through it, and Maglor would know that voice waking or sleeping, despite all that lies between them, both time and blood-stained floors.

"The stars sing clearly here."

It is not... the right answer, perhaps, but he knows Daeron will understand.

[returnedgold]

One bright eye cracks open, and Loren smiles, bright and brilliant at his friend, accepting the cup with an exaggerated sigh of relief.

"Darren, as always, you are a life saver." He sips and hums appreciatively.

"I truly do hate the accreditation process. At times like this I truly miss Erestor's knack for making the paperwork somehow vanish off my desk."

[erchamion]

They never expected to see him again, and although Luthien mourns her childhood friend, they both have other things to think about, other concerns to worry about.

(Like the fact that Luthien is mortal now, with all a mortal's frailities, and didn't that make him fret when Dior was born)

Beren doesn't often leave Tol Galen, but it isn't as if the family is stuck there. Luthien likes to visit her parents, from time to time, and Beren usually accompanies her when she does. This time, however, he's out on the East fences, while Luthien and Melian coo over Dior and Thingol watches indulgently. The elven rangers were quite understanding of his need to get away for a while, and although he knows they slow down for him, he is very grateful for the chance to get out of the palace.

He isn't expecting anything unusual.

[twilightminstrel]

He almost choked on his breath at the answering voice. The words didn't matter.

That voice did.

Daeron could hear the sea crash against cliffs, how water shushed over sand. "Elbereth hears all." A blessing or curse or just a greeting, who could say? He was torn between wanting to know where Maglor was so he could go to the one voice he could put a face and name to, or stay far away from him as possible because Maglor could do the same.

[twilightminstrel]

He chuckled and sat on the edge of the coffee table, holding his cup in both hands as if for warmth. "No, just a mind reader," he quipped.

"None-the-less it's necessary. From the sounds of it, Erestor never rested, and loves paperwork." A shrug. "We'll manage." They always did.

o-oooowe ;.; <3

[twilightminstrel]

He'd meant to stay lost, but between a surprise troll attack and signs of warg scouts, Daeron moved slower and more painfully than his usual swift grace and skill. He stopped dead when he saw the so very slight signs that elven patrols came this way, and there was a song in the wind that hinted he was about to be discovered by one such.

And there was no where to run they would not find or over-take him in the shape he was. Still, he had to try, and searched frantically for a depression that might hide him long enough to be left unnoticed.

A bad step sent him tumbling with a muffled hiss before his head slammed hard into a rock, steeling his senses. Unnoticed by him was the rather painful position he landed in, limbs askew and travel pack out of reach.

[bythewaves]

Both, perhaps - they understand each other well, for all the distance between them.

"Even so far as here? The stars are strange."

But still beautiful, still clear and bright and almost painful in their pure song, although perhaps for one born under starlight they are less so.

You love me >3

[erchamion]

Berrn has fallen behind, not that he minds, much. Melian's Fence keeps out enough that patrols are a formality, and the rest of the patrol will wait for him once they realise.

The unexpected sound brings him up short and he frowns, loosening his blade in it's sheathe to go looking.

"Who goes there?" He demands.

[returnedgold]

"An excellent one, in that case!" Loren retorts with a laugh.

"With a gift for foresight, at that! And you have him pegged - you would have liked him, I think."

He nods, relaxing. "We will. As we always do. Thank you my friend. You always know how to cheer me up."

[twilightminstrel]

Daeron glared at where he heard Maglor's voice from, though it was half-hearted at best.

"Why not here? Stars are stars, whatever formation they hold. If any."

Did either of them deserve such comfort? His crimes were nowhere near the Feanorians, and yet did that still matter? "I can hear them sing even here."

[twilightminstrel]

He sipped his tea, enjoying the laugh.

"Maybe I'll meet him. Only time and the Valar know, I suppose."

Darren smiled gently, moving a foot to nudge Loren. "You do the same for the rest of us."

[bythewaves]

"True enough." Maglor hums softly, echoing the melody he hears.

"Are you hurt?" Daeron is so much wilder than he, he knows, it would not be the first time he has found the other lost minstrel so.

[returnedgold]

"Your lips to the Valar's ears, my friend!" Glorfindel laughs.

"Although I might not survive the meeting, as I suspect the two of you would hit it off very well."

He grins and nudges back. "Only because I have people like you to help."

[twilightminstrel]

Darren grinned, lifting his tea cup in answer.

"You'd be fine." A beat, "or a certain Vala would be quite irate with me for sending you back to his doorstep."

A chuckle. "We're here because of you." Then sobering a little. "I know I am."

[twilightminstrel]

He settled somewhat, automatically, at the echo. He let out a ragged breath before taking a deeper breath, trying to calm further.

"Not as badly as the last time we met." Which didn't say much. "How long have you been here?"

[bythewaves]

Maglor keeps humming, a grounding presence for the other.

"Good. Healer needed?"

He shrugs a little. "A little while. Some months, I think. It is safe enoug, but there are no trees here."

[returnedgold]

Glorfindel chortles. "I would probably be in more trouble than you!"

He sobers as well. "No, my friend. Do not underestimate yourself. We found you, sure enough, but you were the one who survived that long, and did not Fade."

[twilightminstrel]

Daeron lay back down, though curled onto his side with his back to the cold, metal wall. Music was his biggest weakness, as Maglor knew, and used to smooth some of the chaos.

A much quieter breath could be heard. "There are...strange creatures here. I think they have fixed anything that might send me to the Halls."

A soft hiss of alarm. "No trees?" Focus. "...Are there ever any reprieves? I" feel the walls closing in.

"Are you well?" Focus on other things.

FOR SOME STRANGE REASON

[twilightminstrel]

Fortunately he was only senseless for a long moment, with a familiar voice bringing him back around. Daeron froze only to wince with pain, breathing in sharply. He grit his teeth, eyes wide and face paling as he tried to rearrange his limbs to create the smallest ball possible.

But he didn't quite have the ability to drag his pack back close, let alone hide properly.

[twilightminstrel]

"Undoubtedly!"

The smile he leveled at Loren was genuine, but wan. "I should have, long before you found me." Darren shook his head and switched subjects back to what had plagued his friend. "Is it just the paperwork you're having trouble with? I could take a look."

[bythewaves]

"They are called robots - mechanical creatures." Maglor supplies him the information, tucking away the fact that Daeron is not dying, and is probably not bleeding, but will definitely need company, if not proper healing.

... Maybe Finrod might be better for him? The Arafinweans are... less intimidating, he knows (which is hilarious, considering).

"Not on ship." He reassures, and paints the picture in song for Daeron of the great forests he has seen. "But when we dock, depending, some of the planets are Green."

He doesn't comment on himself.