faderift | Carry Us Home

WHO: Elros and you
WHAT: Celebrating a Sea Rescue
WHEN: nowish
WHERE: down by the docks in one of those seedy taverns
NOTES: relevant crystal post here

It's winter, it's dangerous to go out to sea. But when you live in the poor areas, when there's no food on the table, what's a man to do? And when the ship goes down, then all you can do is pray that someone's there to pull you out. Lucky for this crew, Elros was there.

The tavern is noisy and boisterous, and the rescuers and rescuees alike are sopping wet, wrapped in blankets, with mugs of hot ale shoved into their hands. Elros took a slop and some brave souls out, the minute he realised, jumped in with a rope around his waist to pull the sailors in, and somehow they've come out of this mess without a single soul lost. He's leading them all in a rousing chorus of a popular Falathrim sea shanty that every sailor on his own world knows.

On a cold winters night
With a storm at its height
The lifeboat answered the call.
They pitched and they tossed
Till we thought they were lost
As we watched from the harbor wall.

Though the night was pitch black,
There was no turning back,
For someone was waiting out there,
But each volunteer
Had to live with his fear
As they joined in a silent prayer.

Carry us home, home, home from the sea
Sweet Lady Uinen, answer our plea
And carry us home, home, home from the sea
Carry us safely home from the sea!

Care to join them?

There's injuries too, cuts and scrapes and one head wound that Elros is hovering over worriedly, but the man in question is sitting up and talking, so that's something, at least.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"More than Orodreth?" Fingon asks, voice wry and slightly tired at the very thought. "No- never mind, I wouldn't wish a pigheaded family fight on anyone, really."

It was just. Kind of tempting. Sometimes.

He takes a long look at Elros, and meets his eyes. "I worry. About him, certainly- though perhaps I shouldn't say anything, to survive this long he must be tougher than I think he realizes."

Tougher than I am, he doesn't say, because it's insane to start getting into arguments about this sort of thing.

"About Maedhros...very much. I worry he's taking the loss as punishment, for what he did to Maglor."

"I wouldn't know! I never knew Orodreth." Elros points out, a little wry, a little resigned. So many of his family died long before he was born.

He nods. "He is, although he likes to pretend he's not. He'll be alright, I think. Especially if Elrond can get to him. But Maedhros..." He blows a breath out.

"Stubborn, stupid, fool." He sighs. "Both of them, always blaming themselves. You'd think they'd have worked out not all the wrong in the world is their fault by now. I can try and distract him a bit, if you want."

"You should ask Galadriel, if you want a fair opinion," Fingon says, "We've been sniping by mail for the past few years, and I'm like to be too uncharitable toward him."

He runs a hand absently though his hair; the next time he sees Orodreth will be in Mandos, it seems, and the question of his cousin's priorities and what allegiance the kingdoms of the Noldor owe to each other and to the High King will be moot anyway.

"But if you want to know about any of the others... Maedhros and Maglor must have covered most of the House of Finwe. But your father's line, if you ever want to hear more of them, I would be happy to tell of them."

He nods; Elros has Maedhros pinned down precisely. "I think that at this point, he believes even if he isn't responsible for something he might as well be. He failed to prevent it, perhaps... or maybe it's just that one more piece of guilt no longer bothers him. Your company would do him some good, I think."

Elros rolls his eyes in sympathy.

"I'll drag him out to the docks and get him to help me there, I think. Hopefully doing something practical will help."

"It has as good a chance as anything. Better than most, in truth; he is a Noldo." Noldo and Feanorian, all prone to throwing themselves into their tasks....

A small smile. "Tell me when you need a break from him, though. He will cling, and it can be a bit much."

"Not all of you like to build things! Maglor's not bad but he gets distracted so easily."

Elros laughs and then sobers. "Both of them, aye. And I suppose he'll be twice as bad, without Maglor here. I will! And you as well, eh?"

"Maglor is a Great Artist, and thus entitled to a bit of eccentricity," Fingon intones, solemnity undercut by the glint in his eyes.

"He may well be. We know Maglor is alive now, and not in immediate danger. That is something, I suppose- he know nothing when we arrived. In the long run, the knowledge may help." He smiles wryly at Elros. "But for now, we shall have to share a red-headed shadow."

Elros sputters laughter into his mug.

"Oh dear, I feel there is some sort of story there I don't know. He always tried so hard to be respectable around us."

He nods. "We will just have to make sure he doesn't mope too much!"

"Oh. Did he, now."

The look on his face grows into a wide, wicked grin.

"None of us were ever respectable, when we were young- well, Turno, maybe, but I don't know how that happened! But Makalaure was the budding star of Tirion's bards from the moment he could string words together, and he knew it. He soaked up the attention in a room without even trying."

Fingon sighs theatrically, all fond exasperation. "He wasn't unkind about it, of course. At least, when he noticed. But it could be galling, trying to play whenever he was making an appearance."

Nodding back, "He'll be all right. We just have to be patient."

Elros' eyes light up.

"Oh do tell. It sounds like there were all sorts of the types of antics that Elrond and I were told strictly are inappropriate for princes!"

He laughs softly. "Somehow though, I'm not surprised. Even at their worst, people would turn to look when Maglor pulled out his harp."

He grins. "Very patient. And maybe thump him if he gets too bad."

"Well, no one was entirely sure what was appropriate for princes in those days. There had only been three before us, after all."

And three more different one could hardly imagine- not a great help in establishing a standard.

"We did most of the things one would expect from the young and safe and slightly bored. We skipped lessons and functions to go swimming, we stole from Grandfather's kitchens for picnics, I talked Russandol into cliff diving often enough to make our mothers weep... Tyelkormo tried to talk his parents into adopting a giant lizard creature which had survived the Lamps when he was twenty or so. But Makalaure...let me see if I can do it...."

And he turns, posture changing in a dozen subtle ways, to mimic the look of Makalaure the Young Prodigy, almost arrogant in his self-assurance as he soaks in well-deserved applause. It's not perfect, but would have been recognizable for anyone who had seen the original version.

Then he laughs. "But then, I suppose we were all a little full of ourselves in our own way. That's why we left."

Fingon snorts. "Yes. Don't let him wallow, and he'll be the better for it."

Elros listens avidly, intrigued by a glimpse of a past he has never known, growing up the way he did, in the time he did.

"A Giant Lizard?" He says with a wistful lust that would likely have made Maedhros and Maglor shake their heads in despair. "Did he succeed?"

He stares and then nearly falls over stifling his laughter.

"Oh dear, oh! No wonder he used to try and shut Maedhros up on those rare occasions he would bring up their past! That's beautiful, and I will treasure that image in hopes of being able to bring it up to his face one day."

He grins. "It might make even Maedhros laugh, now."

Fingon has to snort at that look-clearly there are a few other stories he needs to tell about his eldest cousins. It wouldn't do at all to give Elros the wrong idea of his guardians.

"No, I'm afraid Aunt Nerdanel put her foot down that time. Stray birds and kittens were one thing, but a pet that could eat a toddler? Not a good idea in that house."

He grins as Elros nearly keel over. Clearly, his work is done.

"He did improve, eventually. If one is going to be fair. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try the impression on Maedhros, and see if he still has the ability to laugh."

Carry Us Home

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject