voidtreckerexpress | (no subject)

WHO: Maglor and OTA!
WHERE: Coach B
WHEN: Bassoon Day 3, early morning
WHAT: Maglor's singing a rather painful song because certain arrivals have gotten him mopey again.
WARNINGS: See above? Probable mentions of torture, murder, dismemberment, etc...

One of the resident musicians has been having his usual trouble sleeping and has tucked himself away in one of the couches with his harp. Much as he does most mornings before the majority of people are up and about.

Maedhros is here. Alive. Full of regret for not thinking of him when it mattered most.

Curufin is here too, just as full of life as they'd all once been. He's discovered he's not angry with that little brother, but the memories of blood and war still pelt his mind just as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.

Maybe he should keep his silence, but the song he'd composed so his family's dark deeds wouldn't be forgotten East of the Sea begs to be sung again. They'd done too much evil for it to be forgotten or passed off as fantasy.

So his fingers strum over the strings of his harp and he raises his voice in an odd, almost sorrowful, almost light tone.

"Seven sons there were, fell and fair
Bright the light in their grey eyes
Swift their rage against the night
But where now the swift arrow, the bright sword?
Where have they gone, the brave warriors?
They are lost, lost, fallen to shadow
Fallen to flame and madness

"Oh, the blood on the sands, the tears on the ground
Fallen, fallen are they, lost forever
Oh! Fingolfin the mighty, puissant and great,
And Fingon the brave, slain at the gate
Gondolin's walls are broken and Turgon lies slain
Felagund lies silent, his death not in vain
And where are they now, Feanor's sons?
Hands stained forever, oathsworn?" *lyrics come from

bookwormfaith

There is more he sings, but it continues on that vein. Those who hear it will hear the rest as an impression of great grief and sorrow. Of regret.

Maglor won't- can't forget. So why should his family be so spared? He's not angry with his father. Not anymore. Now he's just grateful to see his father (and now younger brother, Curufin) alive and much as they used to be, rather than mad with the terrible Oath they'd sworn.

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Tony had woken from a dream, a nasty one of course, and heard the music. It was the harp and not something he would prefer but it's beautiful nonetheless. He finds his robe and slippers and tries to straighten his hair a bit before coming out to listen.

He stays back a bit as he comes into the room. The song that was being song was the story of their family, judging by the words. He doesn't know the names or the places and isn't completely sure he knows which one is which, but he's captivated by the talent and the deep, deep sadness. He finds somewhere to sit nearby but not close enough to interfere.

Dreams have a pesky habit of being either good or bad. Some have more of the one than the other. Maglor's dreams are why he tends to try and avoid sleep as much as possible.

He knows when Tony comes in, of course, but doesn't mind his company. He's already told this man part of this story, it's only fair he hears more of it.

But when it ends, as songs do, he gently sets his harp down, though the fingers of his good hand subconsciously stroke the etchings in the metal frame. He doesn't look at Tony just yet, either.

"There are plenty more laments I have written since this one, which I call the Noldolante, after my people." So many wrongs done. So much death.

When Maglor stops and addresses him, he smiles a little though not as strongly as he normally would. The same had been depressing, to say the least, and he wasn't completely over his nightmare. Even so, he gets up and comes closer so he can sit near the elf.

"You'd have plenty to write from my life too, so I'm not judging." He tries to relax where he sits, or at least pretends to. He was on edge, but this was a friend. Besides, he had something for him.

"Are you alright?"

Many of Maglor's newer songs are depressing. It's the older ones that he's been playing the most on the train. But he can't always help himself when he gets into a certain mood and is left alone.

There is plenty of space for Tony near him, if the man wants to take it. There's a warm little smile for him regardless. "Nor would I judge you, if you wished to speak of them to me." There's a little stress on the if, no demand or expectation is implied.

Is he alright? No, but that's nothing new so he doesn't bother saying so. Instead... "I am well enough... One of the newest arrivals has brought certain memories back that I've managed to ignore for a while."

Just about anyone else, he wouldn't even consider telling his mistakes too if he didn't have to, but for Maglor he thinks a moment on that. It wasn't like the elf could judge him too much after what he'd heard of his family. Still, it was never easy putting light to something so utterly shameful.

"I'll tell you some other time," he promises. It might be sooner than later, but he had something else on his mind- and that was the elf, himself. "Curufin or Maedhros?" He asks, having met both elves and honestly had liked both of them to differing degrees. It was hard not to favor Curufin with his positive attitude and friendly chatter. What was he supposed to say here? Was he supposed to tell Maglor to forgive himself when it was something Tony had never been able to do? "I've wondered some if this train isn't an opportunity for me to make amends with.. whatever balance I've tilted towards the wrong."

They have a fairly good friendship going. Maglor hopes Tony knows he won't push if the Man hints he wants to be left alone. But if Tony decides he wants to confide in him, the elf will sit quietly and listen without judgment- because really, he has no right to judge anyone. And he likes Tony for who he is.

At the promise, he smiles and hums quietly in acceptance. No pressure.

"Maedhros," he answers, sounding ever so slightly tired. Maedhros had told him he'd met this Man. "I am finding my reunion with him more of a challenge than I'd expected." The right hand flexes a little in memory, or a hint as to what was so difficult about it.

"Family can be complicated," but he has a feeling Tony might understand that too.

His head tilts in thought at Tony's comment. "Perhaps...Even if just with oneself. It can be a bit of a slippery slope."

He knows. The elf had been nothing but respectful to him and it had built up quite the trust between them. If he needed it or could get over his pride enough to admit needing it, he'd tell him what keeps haunting him.

"Is he the reason your hand has been injured?" He asks carefully. Unlike Maglor, Tony wasn't ery good at being gentle when he got curious. He did the best he could. At least he could nod in agreement with family being complicated. He'd only recently learned how true that was.

He shakes his head. "No. I'm never going to forgive myself for it. But.. I'd rather talk about you. I have something for you." He passes over something wrapped in some extra fabric he found (or more specifically, part of a suitcase he destroyed). Inside is a metal glove with soft lining.