Bandwagon jumping? No way. (Introduction)

[thenotsofair]

This morning there seems to be another new arrival, coming striding out of the woods holding a sword and looking fairly ticked off. He opens his mouth to say something, but the cry dies as he stares at the Mansion. Back at the woods, then at the Mansion again, an expression of "where the hell am I?" beginning to dawn on his face. The new arrival is

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[broodingelf]

More relatives, aslkhfd. We're getting almost resigned to it. Not even leaping to the conclusion that he's imaginary, or anything.

"--Celegorm?"

[broodingelf]

"After?" Yeah, let's reminisce about the end of the book, that'll be fun. "Little good."

[thenotsofair]

"So I hear you're not dead. How is that?"

"Ah."

[broodingelf]

"Mostly to spite imaginary!you, actually."

"Pityafinwë died. Maitimo died. The Silmarils--" Gyaah.

[thenotsofair]

Not the little Finwes! And Mae! He looks distressed, at that. "How?"

[broodingelf]

One little Finwë. The other got burnt to a crisp way back when, and won't it be weird to see two of them again? :D

Maglor did not have much fun after Tyelko died, and it shows. "Pityo fell in battle." A pause. "Maitimo slew himself." Right in front of him, okay, he's never quite got over that.

[thenotsofair]

Right, singular Finwë. XD Oh yes, we're discovering that right now!

Adslkyfs. That makes him flail. "What?"

[broodingelf]

"We found them." Certain Issues are, currently, wearing away the usual layer of dissociation from everything. He steps closer to Celegorm, grasps the wrist holding the sword. "We two, at last, after all of this." And releases him, turns his hands to show the ancient scars. "This was all we gained."

[thenotsofair]

He drops the sword and takes his brother's hands, staring at the scars, horrified. "What do you mean?" That's impossible! Silmarils are for Feanorians, aren't they?

[broodingelf]

Silmarils are for good people, alas. "We can't touch them. They burnt." And you know very well who else they burned; the comparison isn't pleasant.

[thenotsofair]

That'snotfair! Just like Celegorm's journal name. XD

No, it really isn't, and his eyes widen a hair, his hands tightening. "No."

[broodingelf]

"Yes." He snatches his hands back, curls them up again as is usual. "That's what it was worth, in the end."

[thenotsofair]

He looks stunned, horrified.

This is not good. "Why?"

[broodingelf]

"Why do you think?" He nods down at the sword in the grass, still smeared with blood. It should really, he feels, speak for itself.

[thenotsofair]

This is the part where normal people might say 'oops'.

Tyelko's a little thicker than that. They deserved it. :|

[broodingelf]

And the Fëanorians deserved what happened to them! :D Except maybe Telvo.

Maglor just goes on frowning in the general direction of the sword, busy recollecting the whole burning thing and the chasm thing, which he'd really rather not be, but it sticks in the mind.