[Open] Where broken elves go...

[elven_irs]

It wouldn't be a normal day at the Mansion without its copious serving of elvish drama. And so here is a Caranthir, hiding, as is expected of him, in the stables.

He followed advice from his younger brothers, and ended up spilling a ridiculous amount of awkward beans to an older brother. And now, he feels stupid. Really, really, really stupid for

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[seasideminstrel]

Makalaure may just be taking another stroll around the grounds, as he often does. He is again armed with his sword, though when he spots the stables (where he has not yet been), he will enter, careful in order not to spook the horses.

And hear his brother's voice. And of course he knows what they sound like when they are upset. Though the thought of this brother, especially Moryo -- he is unsure whether or not he can face, and stands motionless for a moment. Then he unclasps the sword -- he doesn't trust himself, puts it aside, and enters Vela's box before he can storm off and let the situation spin further out of control.

"Moryo."

[elven_irs]

The hail shuts him up effectively - Moryo shuts up, and tension creeps up his shoulder.

Of course. Maitimo would have told Makalaure. And now what? Now what?

"Yeah," he manages to blurt after a painful moment of silence. "S'me. Darkest soul in Arda."

Oh yes, that is self-loathing and self-deprecation right there. He doesn't turn around - he can't handle facing this brother just now.

[seasideminstrel]

"No, that would be Moringotto. For Eru's sake, look at me."

And this is not a suggestion, or a try to coax this brother into complying as he usually might - this is anger, full-fledged and harsh, in a way that makes Makalaure take a step back, out of striking distance. He hasn't expected it to explode this way.

And it is an order, too.

[elven_irs]

Oh, Eru.

He turns, then, slowly. His face is stony, a bit gray. "Before you start - I didn't tell you because I wanted a chance to see you normally first. Before this. Go on, now. Beat the dead horse."

There's no fight in him, no anger, no fire. Nothing but something, well, dead.

And jsyk, my connection is refusing to be stable, so pause for Galie/Mags, I guess? *siiigh*

[northernprince]

And here's Medraut, cleaner now, and looking relatively well, all things considered. He's been wandering rather aimlessly, and has managed to find the stables. A small amount of comfort, maybe, considering his fondness for horses.

But as he steps in recognises the obviously unhappy figure and pauses, barely through the door.

Then, quietly: "Does she give good advice?" and crosses his arms.

[elven_irs]

Oh, bollocks. Repressed McRepression, falling into full gear. He straightens, takes a breath. "She has the benefit of keeping secrets," he replies, as lightly as he can.

There's still an inordinate amount of tension in his shoulders - it's strange, feeling the way he feels, angry at the brother he thought would perhaps listen, feeling betrayed and yet feeling like he deserves it and yet unable to bend his head and grovel - because he is a proud thing of pride.

But he won't spill his embarrassment at a potential friend. Or at least, he'll try to be restrained. It was never his strongest suit.

[northernprince]

A tension Medraut will recognise. And hang back because of - he might have gone to greet the horse in the very least, but not when there is an Unhappy Person in the vicinity. They need Space, in Medraut's world. And it bothers him a bit too, to see another - one he likes - in pain when his own is so new and close to the surface.

"There's that, I suppose." Medraut replies. And he pauses, trying to judge if he's unwelcome.

[elven_irs]

Caranthir would feel very understood if he knew what Medraut is thinking. And the pausing - the hanging back help, and anyway, here's one who's not family - who won't be, well, aware.

"Yeah," he says, slowly, and pats the horse's side. "She's a good mount - came with me from Beleriand, you know?" And shrugs. "Do you ride?"

[ofthewildwolves]

Because where there are unhappy elves, there are always conspicuously friendly wolves to cheer them up. And while her nose hurt the last time, he's probably over that now, right?

So hence, when she pads on two legs past the stable, hears someone talking, listens a bit more, and realizes that heeyyyy it's her friend (?) - Firekeeper flicks into wolf shape and noses the door open, poking her head into the stable.

The horses might not like this very much, but she does look very amiable, pink tongue hanging out of her mouth in the best grin she can muster. Hi!

[elven_irs]

Vela in fact is the one to alert the elf to Firekeeper's presence - simply enough, he's lost in his own head right now. The horse, however, neighs, and balks, and makes several unhappy noises.

He turns around, and then... stares.

"You."

[ofthewildwolves]

Firekeeper's wolf-grin broadens, and her tail thumps against the stable floor. Me, she says in wolf speak, gleefully, and stands up, crouching down in a play bow.

Come on, aren't we friends?

[elven_irs]

.... what. the. fuck.

"-- you're making the horses fretful. Out!"

He's not as aggressive as he could be, though. And is half amused.