Music has its own kind of power
Haldir enjoyed testing his skills against other archers. Those of the Greenwood had adequate enough skill to make a friendly competition out of it. The good natured banter just added to it. It also gave him the opportunity to evaluate the skill levels of those and meet a few of the scouts. As they would be going with some of the patrols, that made it an excellent opportunity. “Is Gilriant still avoiding archery targets?” Legolas caught up with him at the tail end of his practice.
“While he can certainly shoot a bow, he said he’ll leave being the expert to me.” Haldir replied with a slight smile. Checking the equipment over he moved to start pulling everything away. “Besides, in his words, it keeps me entertained when he’s talking music.” Legolas inclined his head in understanding. “I can understand that. When some of the minstrels get to talking about technique, well they seem rather passionate about it. I’m afraid those weren’t my favorite lessons. I’d much rather just listen when they play.”
“Well, if that’s your goal, you have good timing.” Haldir stepped away from the archery gear. “Based on how long I have been here, they should be just about to the performance stage of things. I admit it can be entertaining when those new to Gilriant’s different playing styles experience it for the first time.” The Greenwood prince fell into step as they moved away from the archery range. “I take it you mean more than the type of playing he did for setting the wards?”
“Yes, Gilriant and Maglor brought with them music from the world of Gilriant’s birth. It is very much a different style. The lyrics of some of the songs can be unsettling if they are translated. So that ends up being a topic of discussion with them coming from a different culture.” Haldir had a slight smile on his face. “The style of the structure of the songs is quite different as well. Musicians tend to react one of two ways, be completely offended or very intent on learning it. There is very little between.” Legolas frowned slightly, “You said if they are translated, does he not sing them in Sindarin?”
“Not if you haven’t heard it in the original language first. From my understanding, since the songs are often a form of poetry, and no translation is exact, it can disrupt how the song sounds and feels.” Haldir glanced around as he walked steadily towards his goal. Keeping track of where he was and everything around him. “Though, Gilriant is quite good at evoking the emotional feel without one understanding the words.”
“He was not singing songs from his world the last time I visited.” Legolas' voice held curiosity more than anything else. “Not for anyone but very close family no. He can be a little self conscious to show something he doesn’t think he’s mastered. Another remnant of his first life.” Both elves frowned at that, then Haldir’s expression smoothed out. “If he’s feeling bold though, he just might show you one of the skills he’s been working on.”
Faint notes that sounded far different from any elven instrument started to reach their ears. “Well, you are at least about to experience some of it.” Legols looked at Haldir and then ahead as they approached the area the musicians were in. He recognized the sound of one of the first instruments he had heard Gilriant play, the handpan. The ringing almost bell toned sound could suit many elven songs. This time the collection of notes reaching his ears didn’t match up with any that he knew. The voice a soft musical murmur that was slowly building in strength.
When they entered the area the player could easily be seen. The pull of the music drew every eye to him. Hands lightly dancing over the surface of the instrument on a sort of open stand as they tapped out the tune. The pair of elves stopped to better listen and to not potentially cause a distraction to the performance. Gilriant was weaving those notes in support of his voice that rose and fell. True to what Haldir said, Legolas could not understand the words. Yet the tone carried such complicated emotion it didn’t seem to matter.
Held fast by the song, all the Greenwood’s prince could do was stand there and let it surround him. The singer’s voice resonated and at times shifted from an almost plea to reverent, and he could even hear grief twineing in the tune. Somehow both a celebration and a wake. Clearly heartfelt emotion, and it was no elfling’s song. Instead it felt like the music of someone that knew both the bitterness and sweetness of life. When Gilriant finally drew the song to close, Legolas inhaled. Haldir glanced over at him before moving towards the young elf. The movement of the other musicians drew his attention that there were more present. The performance had occupied enough of his attention he hadn’t even noticed them. Finally he fell into step behind the marchwarden.
“Scandalizing the Greenwood I see,” Haldir called out as he grew closer. Gilriant turned in his direction and flashed a bright smile. “Just showing them something new. Or at least new to them.” Considering a small argument seemed to be springing up in the background, scandalized might be somewhat close to accurate. “That was beautiful,” Legolas offered up his own smile to the young elf. “I don’t think I can define it by any one emotion.”
Now Gilriant’s smile got bigger. “It's not meant to be. Though I don’t think I’ll translate it today for anyone. I think it would be better for them to feel it first before getting caught up in the words.” At the protest it seemed like not all the minstrels appreciated this. Turning his attention back to them the young bard laughed. “Trust me, it's better this way.”
“How about you distract them with something else,” Haldir suggested. “Technical skill, and then one of the other things you’ve mastered.” One of the minstrels interjected with clear doubt in his voice, “Technical skill, from a song composed by men? I doubt that would be a challenge.” Raising an eyebrow, Gilriant moved to pick up his violin, pointing it at the elf. “Well then, I’m about to prove you wrong.”
Setting the bow to the strings, he waited a beat and began. His fingers flew across the strings as the bow moved rapidly, an almost frenzied song of fast notes. The rapid movements brought an astonished look to more than one elf’s face. The only pause was to pluck a double handful of quick notes before diving back into the quick bow movements and flash of moving fingers on the strings. Despite the speed, each note was distinct and not a glissando of sound. When the frenzied song came to an end, less than two minutes had passed. “The song is called Flight of the Bumblebee. There is a slightly longer version but that is typically with accompaniment, not solo. This is a song where a man managed to play accurately and set the record by finishing it in under a minute.” A smug look was shot at the elf that was so dismissive. “I . . see. Yes, that would take skill.”
“Would you be willing to perform a song we can understand the lyrics of?” Questioned another one of the minstrels. “I understand you don’t want to do that for the first song you played yet. So something different?” Gilriant tilted his head thinking. “Something different, translated, and won’t completely scandalize you, at least not yet.” Haldir chuckled, how about one of the ones you mastered to challenge yourself.” The younger elf locked gazes with the marchwarden, and one could almost feel the communication that was flowing between the pair.
Finally Gilriant stepped back, blowing out a breath, “Fine. But if it doesn’t sound quite polished I’m blaming you.” He pointed the bow at Haldir before setting it to the strings once more. Those listening moved back to their chosen perches to listen again with open curiosity showing. No one quite expected the young bard to start singing as he played the song on his violin.
Wrapped up in the performance, the rest of the world dropped away for Legolas. Focused on only the song and the singer. Not even noticing when his father stepped up besides him. The singing at first wasn’t words, just Gilriant’s voice singing along with the melody being played on the violin. Then it separated, his voice lifting up above. Supported by what was being played but also a full throated song.
When words emerged, if they didn’t match up with the rhythm of the song, the woodland elf couldn’t tell. Though yes, it was different phrasing than any elven song, there was strength in the words. Above all it felt like a song of enduring hope. Reaching out and not giving up. At least, that was Legolas’ take on it. One thing was very clear, Gilriant’s music could and did pull emotions to the surface. Was it the song, or was it the performer? He’d heard the younger elf play elven music before. Nothing felt quite like this. Something for him to think about.
After the music ended, he was startled when his father moved towards Gilriant. Thranduil looked at him with a raised eyebrow before turning back to the young elf. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything like that before. Perhaps you would be interested in joining the evening performers on occasion?” With a grin, and a flourished bow, he responded, “But of course. I enjoy playing and sharing music with others. Though I may refrain from translating more culturally questionable lyrics to keep from upsetting anyone listening too much.” Thranduil tilted his head in thought. “Something to discuss later perhaps.”
*
Maglor was not brooding, he was not! Just because the son he had been charged with protecting was off on his own getting into who knows what kind of trouble didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t in a position to help his now not so little maker of mischief. That was fine, it was all fine. Everything was okay and including him.
“Alright, that’s enough of that. We’re going for a ride.” Blinking he looked up to see Glorfindel looking at him with an expression of concern. “You need to take your mind off of things for a bit. So let's make it a nice long ride. I'll get a picnic from the kitchens to take with us.” Apparently the blonde elf wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He’d already departed leaving Maglor with the choice of staying there and wallowing, or following his friend.
While he probably took too long making up his mind, eventually he did get up. He made sure his attire would be appropriate for a ride and decided to head to the kitchen to see if Glorfindel needed a hand carrying anything. When he got close to the kitchen, it was in time to see one of the staff handing his friend a basket with a grin. “There you are, Lord Glorfindel, one picnic suitable for a courting couple.” Maglor froze while the blonde elf sputtered a protest.
Was his friend trying to court someone? Why didn’t he tell him? If anyone deserved that kind of happiness it was Glorfindel. That the captain didn’t talk to him about it was obviously why this information was depressing. The last thing he wanted to be was some sort of obstacle. Who else knew about this if the kitchen staff did? Was he the last one to find out? Maglor’s thoughts continued to spiral.
“Maglor, is everything okay?” The blonde elf was suddenly right in front of him. “Yes. I’m good. Ah, you don’t have to do this, you know. I’m sure you have other plans for today, other people to spend it with.” The bard couldn’t quite bring himself to ask the direct question. Instead he went the indirect route.
“Nonsense. There is nothing else I need to do at the moment and no one else I would rather spend time with.” Glorfindel peered at him with open concern. “You obviously need the distraction, come on.” He let the captain snag his sleeve and tug him along towards the stables. “Really, you don’t have to spend time with me.” He tried again, feeling guilty for taking up his friend’s time. The blonde glanced at him as he continued to tug the other elf along. “And again, I want to. Now stop protesting and enjoy the day with me.”
The bard didn’t have the willpower to stay no. Not when his friend seemed so set on it. Glorfindel tended to latch on to an idea and refuse to let go. Getting him to change his decision was difficult at best. Maglor wanted to spend the time with the captain, which made him feel guilty from taking time away from whomever he was trying to court. Inwardly he resolved to watch and see who the blonde elf was interacting with. That way he could figure out who exactly it was and make it up to them. That would certainly take the ache away he was feeling.
*
Gilriant was starting to relax from the day, looking forward to some quiet time when he felt something tugging at his awareness. Wait, not something, it was someone. The reason he didn’t immediately identify what it was or who, due to extreme distance. Which likely meant one of his family in Valinor, Mandos’ Halls to be specific. He didn’t think his bond with Fingon was developed enough for him to have reached out like this. Impossible to tell how long they had been trying to get his attention. It was difficult to feel the connection from so far away.
Exhaling he started to move towards his bed. “Haldir?” The aforementioned elf swiftly made an appearance through the connection to their rooms. Almost all the time the door was simply kept open. Which was helpful for times like this. “I need to go dreamwalking. Someone needs me.” Over the years Gilriant had learned to warn people whenever possible. For obvious reasons he was extremely difficult to wake from that particular state. So it had been known to alarm family members before they figured out what was going on.
“Alright you get settled and I’ll finish up quickly so I can be here for you.” Gilriant was quick to protest. “You don’t have to. It’s not like I’m going to know you are here.” When Haldir gave him a look the younger elf threw up his hands. “Fine, have your way.” While the marchwarden would respect it if he really didn’t want him too, they both knew he always welcomed the comforting presence. Whatever state the younger elf might be in. He settled in the bed without further argument. Haldir moved over to pull the blanket up and stroke a hand down Gilriant’s hair. “I’ll be here when you wake.” Closing his eyes, the young elf followed the faint pull.
As he expected Gilriant ‘opened’ his eyes to find himself standing in Mandos’ Halls. What he really did not expect was to see his cousin Celebrimbor anxiously waiting for him. “Tyelpe? What is it?” Of all of his family, the Jewel Smith had been making rapid improvement. To the point that the younger elf thought he would be ready to leave the Hall soon.
“Maeglin needs you, and it's all my fault.” Something wasn’t adding up here. As far as he knew the two got along very well. That they both enjoyed blacksmithing may have been the starting point, but that’s not where things ended. The two ended up enjoying each other’s company. So for it to be Celebrimbor that upset him made no sense. Gilriant kept his voice gentle, “Explain.”
Tyelpe took a deep breath, “Lord Namo said I was ready to leave. Fingon offered me a place in Amdirhim. I didn’t want to leave Maeglin here. So I asked him if he thought he might be ready to leave too.” Gilriant approved of the name that was chosen, meaning hope enduring. Sounded like a good name for a sanctuary to him. The more important matter in the moment, the young smith’s reaction. Guessing what might have happened, he asked, “Did he panic?”
At the nod of confirmation Gilriant sighed. “Not your fault. This has been a place where the people that came to him did not judge him. He’s got no guarantee that it will be the same if he leaves.” At the look of devastation in Tyelpe’s face he quickly added in a firm tone. “It is a good thing that you asked him. Once he stops panicking he’s going to realize you wanted him with you. That matters.” He waited to make sure Celembrimbor heard him, and relaxed at least a little.
“Are you going to be okay if I go find him?” Tyelpe nodded quickly. “Go, I’m not the one that needs you.” He gave his cousin one last searching look before he turned to make his way through the Halls. Over time his ability to find someone within had only improved. Gilriant needed no guide, nor even extra light to find his way. Healthy fea emitted their own light, and his tended to be quite bright because of his interesting heritage. Especially in the darkest parts of the Halls he shone brightly.
It didn’t surprise him to find Maeglin tucked away in his courtyard. The good news is that his cousin was still very solid looking and had not faded back into a shadow. “Maeglin? It’s Gilriant.” The dark haired elf had yet to move. “I’m going to come over and sit by you, is that okay?” Again there was no response. After a beat he slowly walked to the closest bench and sat.
Touching Maeglin was out. Not when his cousin wasn’t acknowledging him. While he knew what the problem was and there was plenty he could say, Gilriant couldn’t be sure he would hear the words. What might get through to him would be a song, but which one. He also wanted to keep his hands free for this, so the young elf would need to take a bit of a risk. Usually he used an instrument to help aid him. This time he would just need to use his voice, and hope the right song found him.
Focusing, he reached outward, seeking the right song, the right words. There, on the edge of his hearing, Gilriant could hear music. Opening his mouth, he started to sing, letting the music move to flow in the space around Maeglin.
My mind's a kaleidoscope, it thinks too fast
Blurs all the colors 'til I can't see past
The last mistake, the choice I made
Staring in the mirror with myself to blame
Sometimes I'm afraid of the thoughts inside
It seemed the verses were quite fast paced, but nothing he couldn’t handle. It was the words that mattered, ones that brought back memories of his own past and the struggles he knew they shared.
Nowhere to hide inside my mind
I'm scared that you'll compare and I'll look a lifetime past repair
I second guess myself to death, I re-solicit every step
What if my words are meaningless? What if my heart's misleading this?
I try to capture every moment as it comes to me
Bottle up the memories and let them keep me company
Gilriant kept his gaze fastened on his cousin. Waiting to see if it was working. He pushed the power of the song closer to the young blacksmith. Words could be knives, but music could help heal those wounds.The speed of the song slowed on the chorus.
When the hope of morning starts to fade in me
I don't dare let darkness have its way with me
And the hope of morning makes me worth the fight
I will not be giving in tonight
There, his cousin was starting to move, turning towards him. Gilriant continued to sing, the pace picking back up with the next verse. The music somehow echoing around his voice.
When I'm old and grey, or thirty, or whatever happens first
I'll need you to reassure me I didn't waste a verse
Or worse, what if my life's work is reduced to just myself
Like never let you get a word in, while I dissect my mental health
Or lack thereof, whatever, there's too many things to track
I really can't remember if I'm insane or insomniac
Now Maeglin was fully facing him, his dark gaze locked on the singer. The song continued to flow, the connection and meaning more than the sum of their individual words.
Now days, all the kids want crazy, wanna diagnose themselves
Trade up made up epidemics, pass around prescription pills
But my disorder can't be cured by a bottle, blade, or dose
Self-disgust and selfishness tend to hold me awfully close
But I don't wanna let you see that, I don't want my friends to know
Self-disgust and selfishness take me everywhere I go
Gilriant reached out with one hand, offering comfort. An invitation for a hug. The slow speed of the chorus seemed to encourage his cousin to come close.
When the hope of morning starts to fade in me
I don't dare let darkness have its way with me
And the hope of morning makes me worth the fight
I will not be giving in tonight
The song was not yet finished but there was a pause. The young smith fled the spot he had been curled up in to seek sanctuary instead in Gilriant’s embrace, burrowing in. The staticky feel of Maeglin’s fea started to smooth out under strength of the song and the acceptance of his cousin.
Try as I might to keep it together
Why is recovery taking forever?
Fool the whole world, just until I get better
I'm terrified I'll be faking forever
On and on I wonder what went wrong inside my head
I don't have to have the answers, but tonight I wish I did
All the pain I can't explain away won't fade
All the the secrets silenced by the shame
Wrapping both arms around Maeglin, he continued to sing, letting the music surround them both. The words echoing through both their pasts. Yet the music flowed around them like a warmed blanket.
Don't make me say it
Don't make me say it
Don't make me say it
Don't make me say it
Sometimes saying anything about what one lived through was a struggle. Oh he knew that very well.
Don't make me say it
Don't make me say it
Don't make me say it
He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the top of Maeglin’s head as he finished the song.
When the hope of morning starts to fade in me
I don't dare let darkness have its way with me
And the hope of morning makes me worth the fight
I will not be giving in tonight
That song was finished yet, things felt not quite done. The music shifted and flowed, nudging at him. Different feel, but some similar meaning. So Gilriant let the new song start, and started to sing.
I am not a stranger to the dark
"Hide away, " they say
"'Cause we don't want your broken parts"
I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars
"Run away, " they say
"No one'll love you as you are"
He knew that fear all too well. While the scars on his body were removed when it was remade, the scars on his fea, while faded, may never completely go away. It still was difficult to talk about, even if his brother helped him deal with it.
But I won't let them break me down to dust
I know that there's a place for us
For we are glorious
He could tell that Maeglin was listening. While his cousin hadn’t moved, he was still taking in every note, every word.
When the sharpest words wanna cut me down
I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown 'em out
I am brave, I am bruised
I am who I'm meant to be, this is me
Look out 'cause here I come
And I'm marching on to the beat I drum
I'm not scared to be seen
I make no apologies, this is me
This is what Elrond and Maglor and the rest of his family taught him. That even with his past, he was still wonderful just as he was. That his quirks were something to celebrate. To not hide away, instead just be himself.
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh, oh
Gilriant kept Maeglin wrapped up in the embrace. He would let his cousin choose when he felt ready to pull away. No matter how long, or how many songs it took.
Another round of bullets hits my skin
Well, fire away 'cause today, I won't let the shame sink in
We are bursting through the barricades and
Reaching for the sun (we are warriors)
Yeah, that's what we've become (yeah, that's what we've become)
There was an echo beyond his words. The music gave a strange not-echo that reinforced and empowered the message, adding to it.
I won't let them break me down to dust
I know that there's a place for us
For we are glorious
He smiled slightly when Maeglin began to shift. Not pulling away, but turning his head to look at Gilriant’s face.
When the sharpest words wanna cut me down
I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown 'em out
I am brave, I am bruised
I am who I'm meant to be, this is me
Look out 'cause here I come
And I'm marching on to the beat I drum
I'm not scared to be seen
I make no apologies, this is me
Oddly, he got the sensation the song was not just echoing in this courtyard. That his singing, from the beginning had been picked up by the Halls itself, and reverberated throughout. Well, at least if anyone else needed to hear this, they would.
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh, oh
This is me
He smiled warmly at Maeglin. His cousin had gotten treated terribly while he was alive. Gilriant hoped that he had taught him that he deserved better, and that he deserved to be loved too.
and I know that I deserve your love
(Oh-oh-oh-oh) there's nothing I'm not worthy of
(Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh, oh)
When the sharpest words wanna cut me down
I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown 'em out
This is brave, this is bruised
This is who I'm meant to be, this is me
Finally he got a faint smile in return. Gilriant knew that this didn’t solve everything but they were getting past the initial crisis.
Look out 'cause here I come (look out 'cause here I come)
And I'm marching on to the beat I drum (marching on, marching, marching on)
I'm not scared to be seen
I make no apologies, this is me
Whenever the words wanna cut me down (oh-oh-oh-oh)
I'll send a flood to drown 'em out (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)
I'm gonna send a flood (oh-oh-oh-oh)
Gonna drown them 'em out (oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh, oh)
Oh
This is me
Gilriant let the song drift away, keeping quiet. He wasn’t getting anymore pushes, so perhaps the music was done speaking through him for the moment. Sometimes silence could be just as healing as words. It could mean that the person with you was comfortable enough that they didn’t need to fill the silence. So he simply waited his cousin out.
“I may have overreacted, a little.” Gilriant gave a slight shake of his head. “You had a very understandable panic attack. The outside world hurt you very badly. This is the only place you have been safe.” A sigh escaped the young smith as he finally pulled away enough to sit besides him, yet still tucked under his arm. “I have thought about it. Being able to leave again. It would be nice to be able to live again.” Now that was great news. It didn’t negate the possibility of panic attacks. Thinking of something was different than being faced with the reality of it. “But, what if it happens again.”
“Well, this time you have your cousin who wants to go with you. Think about that for a moment. He could already be gone. Instead, Tyelpe is waiting for you. He’s the one that reached out to me for you. And before you get other thoughts in your head, if I deserved help healing from my past, then so do you. Those of us that can help, both want to and it makes us feel like we are doing something good in the world.” Having experienced some similar things, it helped Gilriant knock down protests and self-deprecating statements. Which with the faint scowl told him he had managed to head off at least one.
“You have more than that. I told you about Fingon going on the warpath when I gave him that book, right?” Maeglin gave a faint nod. “Where Tyelpe would go, is the sanctuary I asked your good uncle to create. It gave him something to focus on instead of going out and strangling his brother. Which he really wanted to do.” The young smith blinked. “Wait, did you ask him to build that for me?” His voice was rising in pitch.
“For you, and for my uncles, my grandfather, whenever they can get free. For others that feel like they don’t fit in anywhere. That struggle with their past. It’s meant to be somewhere anyone can feel like they belong.” Seeing Maeglin relax Gilriant decided to see if he could give a gentle nudge. “And, I know they are still working on things. I bet they could use another smith, if you feel up to it.”
Gilriant also knew that Fingon had visited Maeglin as well. So his cousin already knew his uncle, and perhaps how protective he might be. “You can stay here, as long as you need to. That is what this place is for. I think you know what the drawback is.” Again he wanted for Maeglin to be ready to respond. “I’m not really, living here. Things got better if you came, but it's not meant to be a place to live.”
“Seems like you already know what you want to do little cousin.” Maeglin scowled at him. “I’m still older than you.” Gilriant grinned. “Yeah but if you stay here I’ll have experienced more of life then you. You’ve got less than a century on me now. I’m catching up.” He tilted his head to the side. “Oh, you miiiight get a bit, hmm how shall I say it. You are going to be the baby elf to them. So they are going to be super overprotective and want to make sure you are happy.”
At that Maeglin just blinked at him. “What?” He asked faintly. “Yup. You should have never been treated the way you were before. So expect to get at least a little spoiled. I’m willing to be it's also one of the reasons Tyelpe really wanted you to come with him. So he could help protect you.” The dark-eyed elf blinked back tears. “The people you lived with before were wrong. They should have never treated you that way.” With a sigh the smith leaned his head against Gilriant’s shoulder again. “If you need more time to think about it, you absolutely can have it. In the end, it's about what you need and want.”
“I know that, yet it feels really strange.” The younger elf nodded. “Understandable.” He let the quiet stretch out again. “Uncle Fingon, he’s so nice.” Gilriant nodded with a smile. “Yes he is. Did you know he’s called The Valiant?” “I think you did. He really would protect me wouldn’t he?” The words were giving the younger elf hope. “Yes, he would.” Another pause, “Would you still visit me?” His smile got stronger, “I absolutely will. I won’t be able to interact with you as a group unless you fall asleep together and Irmo helps. But on one one definitely.” Maeglin inhaled and straightened up saying, “Then, I think I want to live.” Gilriant gave him a one armed hug. “Good, you deserve that chance to be happy.”
“Can we go find Tyelpe now?” Gilriant got up and offered the young smith his hand. “That we can. You are about to make him very happy.”