It's good she's sitting down, because she's not sure how steady her legs would be at this point. Just like when Maglor had told her he had feelings for her, this is hard to process as real.
"I- But. I'm still practically a stranger to you. I could be awful."
The irony of her saying such a thing is rather lost on her.
She's floored. To be accepted so completely, it's humbling. She's not sure how Maglor ever doubted his welcome home, with a woman like this for his mother.
"You're very kind. I'll do my best to be worthy of your good opinion, my lady."
Because it really mattered. To be called 'daughter' so easily, like it was natural. Not even her own foster father had referred to her as such. She had been his ward. He'd never truly taken up the full mantle of parent.
Syeira didn't cry often. Oh she was an emotional person, but tears, she'd been taught long ago, didn't serve a person. But sometimes, that was all you could do. Still, she ducks her head as her eyes fill, embarrassed at herself.
"Forgive me," she murmurs, her free hand raising to dash the tears away.
Nerdanel, you're making it worse. But Syeira is far too in need of such a thing to try to resist or refuse. Acceptance had ever been something she's craved, and here it seems so easy.
She returns the embrace, keeping it for a long moment. When she draws back is when she takes the offered handkerchief. Though when she makes another pass at her eyes, she ends up using the back of her finger, with the square of cloth held in her fist. It's the thought that counts.
"Thank you. Really I am sorry. I don't usually go all to pieces like this."
"It doesn't matter to me." She assures her. "I've been cried on in all sorts of situations, and this is one of the nicer ones! But never ever feel you're not welcome here, Syeira. Come to me, if you ever need anything. You're family now."
She's at risk of sobbing, with how Nerdanel just continues to layer on the warmth and generosity. Why is she reacting like this?
"You'd think I've never known a day's kindness, in my life." She's going to get a hold of herself if it kills her. She reaches for her cooling tea and takes a long swallow.
If she thinks about it, it would be obvious. It's not about kindness, really. It's about acceptance, and the offer of family. So easily given. As if to welcome her is completely natural. The only person she's ever felt this from is Imoen. And she misses her sister keenly in that moment.
"I wish my sister could've met you." The thought comes out of her mouth before she realizes it. It's true though. "She'd have like you."
You keep this up, Nerdanel, and your son is going to have a lot of questions about why his wife looks like a swollen crying mess.
But talking about Imoen, bittersweet as it is, is certainly an easier topic.
"Her name is Imoen. We were raised together, but we didn't know we were really sisters until we had long since left home. She was always the really good one between us. Always went to classes, when I'd skip and climb the ramparts to see over the walls of the keep. Always did her chores with half as much complaining. She snuck out to follow us, when my guardian took me away in the night, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to go back.
She was full of fun, jokes and harmless pranks. She'd give a beggar her last crust of bread with a smile, and slip a few coins in his pocket before she left. She'd tell me when she thought I was being foolish, and when she thought I was on the right track. You couldn't ask for a better person at your side. She's fully human, and if she's still alive, she's likely in the winter of her days."
Maglor can shush, girls need to bond, and sometimes that involves tears.
Nerdanel listens quietly, with the same intensity that Maglor has, as if she might one day create something from the tale told.
"She sounds lovely." She says wistfully. "I've never met any humans, you know. I can't make any comment on how different they might be to us, but I'd have loved to meet her."
"I've found that race is largely an arbitrary thing. We're all generally the same, with some physical uniqueness. We all laugh, cry, love, need. We all live and die. So what you might imagine is likely accurate. Just with rounded ears. And pink hair."
She laughs at her own little joke, feeling steadier.
"That's not actually common for humans. I think it might be a result of our shared parentage, same as my hair. I have drawings of her, if you'd ever like to see."
"Yours isn't pink though!" She giggles. "It's the most lovely shade of ruby. Not quite as flame-like as my Maitimo's, but closer to Ambarussa's."
Nerdanel nods.
"Oh, that would be nice! I could try and do a small sculpture for you off a picture, if you like? She sounds like such a wonderful person - I wish I could meet her."
"Well no, but mine also doesn't sun fade. It's less about the color and more about the unnaturalness of it."
Despite talking about her heritage, even in such innocuous ways, she's not unsettled. She's been having these conversations a lot. Just with the ones everyone here refuse to call gods.
"If I only we could all get so lucky. She'd charm everyone in an instant. Maybe I could paint her, so you could really see the details of her."
That's not how she heard it. She heard that Varda made actual stars. Also science is terrifying.
She lifts a shoulder, brushing some hair behind an ear, awkward.
"I've been trained as a bard, but I don't really hold a candle to Maglor. My only other real talent is with weapons, and it's rather an unnecessary skill here."
Well yes, but that's mostly maths and science, and they're just playing with the building blocks Eru gave them!
"Very few can." Says Maglor's mother with a fondly tolerant smile. "But that doesn't mean you're bad! And I'm sure you have plenty of songs we don't know! As for weapons, well - there are still the Warrior's Meets, and the Tourney once a year?"
She will never believe you can math a star into existence.
"You think I'd be welcome to participate?" She's genuinely surprised by the suggestion. But then again, thinking on it, no one understands why she might not get invited to such things normally. No one knows enough about her to get nervous.
"Hmm... maybe if they give me just blunt weapons, and everyone else stays nicely armored, it could be fine."
Well it's true you need a good deal of power too, but mostly it's about calculating the right gravity to get all the bits to fall together....
"Of course!" Nerdanel smiles at her encouragingly. "All talent is to be encouraged and nurtured, until you ready to move on to something else."
She giggles. "My dear, most of the warriors who are still active are survivors of the Third Age or the Reborn of the First. They're used to fighting dragons and balrogs. They won't mind a few cuts and bruises, and I think you'll be surprised how many can keep up with you."
Considering the people who still frequent said Meets include Glorfindel, Gil-Galad, Fingon, and Fingolfin.
"I didn't mean to imply they couldn't." And again her face feels hot. She didn't want to sound like she thought little of the skills of their living heroes. She didn't. She just...knows what lies, restless, in her own veins.
"My lady...how much, exactly do you know about me? I know we haven't talked much-" hence the whole bringing tea, and having a visit "-but what all has Maglor said if me?"
It's not the conversation she'd intended to have, but perhaps it ought to be. Half the reason she keeps being surprised by her warm welcome, is because she forgets that most don't already know everything about her.
"You're my mother in law. You have a right to know who married your son."
Not that she's not incredibly impressed by that. Talk about a great mother; trusting her son's judgement, and just happy that he's happy. Nerdanel is saintly. Do they give mother of the year awards here?
"It's common knowledge that I am not of Arda. Eru had no hand in my existence. Whether he knows about the multiverse or not, we can't say, but it's very safe to assume he's given me permission to be here, in his part of it. Though I can't, for the life of me, quite understand that. You'd think my presence would raise a great many questions. But I digress.
I'm from a world that has many God's. Not all of them very good. Often they don't get along. Ao is their overgod, what Eru is to Arda. At least, as far as we know. And one day he grew tired of the pettiness of the lesser deities and cast then down to the mortal plane, to walk among the mortals.
It royally messed everything up, to say the least. And in my opinion, was worse than anything the lesser gods had gotten up to prior. But no one listens to me. Not that it matters, I was still practically a toddler at the time.
But one of these gods foresaw this, and know that when he would be made mortal, he would be slain. So before it came to pass, he walked among mortals, and sired a score of children. In them he placed his essence, pieces of his divine spirit, so that when they died, his power and life would be returned to him, and he would revive.
His name was Bhaal. His portfolio was unnatural death, his favorite being murder. It earned him the title Lord of Murder. Charming, right? And I'm one of his children."
There's so much more, but that's already a lot of information. She ought to let Nerdanel take it in.
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Date: 2018-08-15 05:57 am (UTC)"I- But. I'm still practically a stranger to you. I could be awful."
The irony of her saying such a thing is rather lost on her.
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Date: 2018-08-15 06:11 am (UTC)"And he certainly would not have brought you home to me, presenting you shyly as if you were the finest gift he could bring - which you are!"
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Date: 2018-08-15 02:49 pm (UTC)"You're very kind. I'll do my best to be worthy of your good opinion, my lady."
Because it really mattered. To be called 'daughter' so easily, like it was natural. Not even her own foster father had referred to her as such. She had been his ward. He'd never truly taken up the full mantle of parent.
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Date: 2018-08-16 05:05 am (UTC)That's because Maglor is an idiot coughNerdanel squeezes her hand.
"I try to be! But you make it easy, Syeira. You're everything I could have wanted in a daughter."
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Date: 2018-08-16 05:20 am (UTC)Just like his fatherSyeira didn't cry often. Oh she was an emotional person, but tears, she'd been taught long ago, didn't serve a person. But sometimes, that was all you could do. Still, she ducks her head as her eyes fill, embarrassed at herself.
"Forgive me," she murmurs, her free hand raising to dash the tears away.
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Date: 2018-08-16 05:42 am (UTC)truth"Ah my dear."
Nerdanel gets up and comes around to hug her, offering her a handkerchief.
"There's nothing to forgive, daughter. You've made me so happy, Syeira, in so many ways."
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Date: 2018-08-16 05:58 am (UTC)She returns the embrace, keeping it for a long moment. When she draws back is when she takes the offered handkerchief. Though when she makes another pass at her eyes, she ends up using the back of her finger, with the square of cloth held in her fist. It's the thought that counts.
"Thank you. Really I am sorry. I don't usually go all to pieces like this."
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Date: 2018-08-16 06:39 am (UTC)Nerdanel smiles at her fondly and pats her hand.
"It doesn't matter to me." She assures her. "I've been cried on in all sorts of situations, and this is one of the nicer ones! But never ever feel you're not welcome here, Syeira. Come to me, if you ever need anything. You're family now."
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Date: 2018-08-17 04:31 am (UTC)"You'd think I've never known a day's kindness, in my life." She's going to get a hold of herself if it kills her. She reaches for her cooling tea and takes a long swallow.
If she thinks about it, it would be obvious. It's not about kindness, really. It's about acceptance, and the offer of family. So easily given. As if to welcome her is completely natural. The only person she's ever felt this from is Imoen. And she misses her sister keenly in that moment.
"I wish my sister could've met you." The thought comes out of her mouth before she realizes it. It's true though. "She'd have like you."
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Date: 2018-08-17 04:49 am (UTC)"I suppose it's the shock, as much as anything." she muses, and gentles even further, when she says that.
"A sister! Tell me about her?"
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Date: 2018-08-17 05:30 am (UTC)But talking about Imoen, bittersweet as it is, is certainly an easier topic.
"Her name is Imoen. We were raised together, but we didn't know we were really sisters until we had long since left home. She was always the really good one between us. Always went to classes, when I'd skip and climb the ramparts to see over the walls of the keep. Always did her chores with half as much complaining. She snuck out to follow us, when my guardian took me away in the night, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to go back.
She was full of fun, jokes and harmless pranks. She'd give a beggar her last crust of bread with a smile, and slip a few coins in his pocket before she left. She'd tell me when she thought I was being foolish, and when she thought I was on the right track. You couldn't ask for a better person at your side. She's fully human, and if she's still alive, she's likely in the winter of her days."
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Date: 2018-08-17 05:57 am (UTC)Nerdanel listens quietly, with the same intensity that Maglor has, as if she might one day create something from the tale told.
"She sounds lovely." She says wistfully. "I've never met any humans, you know. I can't make any comment on how different they might be to us, but I'd have loved to meet her."
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Date: 2018-08-17 06:48 am (UTC)She laughs at her own little joke, feeling steadier.
"That's not actually common for humans. I think it might be a result of our shared parentage, same as my hair. I have drawings of her, if you'd ever like to see."
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Date: 2018-08-17 07:41 am (UTC)Nerdanel nods.
"Oh, that would be nice! I could try and do a small sculpture for you off a picture, if you like? She sounds like such a wonderful person - I wish I could meet her."
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Date: 2018-08-17 04:49 pm (UTC)"Well no, but mine also doesn't sun fade. It's less about the color and more about the unnaturalness of it."
Despite talking about her heritage, even in such innocuous ways, she's not unsettled. She's been having these conversations a lot. Just with the ones everyone here refuse to call gods.
"If I only we could all get so lucky. She'd charm everyone in an instant. Maybe I could paint her, so you could really see the details of her."
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Date: 2018-08-18 07:53 am (UTC)Because the Valar get all horrified and immediately correct them if anyone does!
"A collaborative project!" She hums eagerly. "Ooh but yes I would love a picture of her, if you don't mind?"
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Date: 2018-08-18 12:24 pm (UTC)"I wouldn't. It'll be nice to have something to do."
Not having a job, or chores, to do is remarkably boring. How ironic a change from her youth, where she would steal idleness to daydream.
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Date: 2018-08-19 03:06 pm (UTC)"I'll look forwards to it!" Nerdanel smiles at her. "You know, you should look into picking up and Art of your own. Just as a hobby, even."
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Date: 2018-08-19 04:19 pm (UTC)She lifts a shoulder, brushing some hair behind an ear, awkward.
"I've been trained as a bard, but I don't really hold a candle to Maglor. My only other real talent is with weapons, and it's rather an unnecessary skill here."
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Date: 2018-08-20 04:09 am (UTC)"Very few can." Says Maglor's mother with a fondly tolerant smile. "But that doesn't mean you're bad! And I'm sure you have plenty of songs we don't know! As for weapons, well - there are still the Warrior's Meets, and the Tourney once a year?"
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Date: 2018-08-20 04:18 am (UTC)"You think I'd be welcome to participate?" She's genuinely surprised by the suggestion. But then again, thinking on it, no one understands why she might not get invited to such things normally. No one knows enough about her to get nervous.
"Hmm... maybe if they give me just blunt weapons, and everyone else stays nicely armored, it could be fine."
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Date: 2018-08-20 04:50 am (UTC)"Of course!" Nerdanel smiles at her encouragingly. "All talent is to be encouraged and nurtured, until you ready to move on to something else."
She giggles. "My dear, most of the warriors who are still active are survivors of the Third Age or the Reborn of the First. They're used to fighting dragons and balrogs. They won't mind a few cuts and bruises, and I think you'll be surprised how many can keep up with you."
Considering the people who still frequent said Meets include Glorfindel, Gil-Galad, Fingon, and Fingolfin.
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Date: 2018-08-20 05:04 am (UTC)"My lady...how much, exactly do you know about me? I know we haven't talked much-" hence the whole bringing tea, and having a visit "-but what all has Maglor said if me?"
It's not the conversation she'd intended to have, but perhaps it ought to be. Half the reason she keeps being surprised by her warm welcome, is because she forgets that most don't already know everything about her.
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Date: 2018-08-20 05:51 am (UTC)"Not much." She admits. "But I didn't wish to bother you with too many questions. Makalaure loves you. That's enough for me."
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Date: 2018-08-20 06:14 am (UTC)Not that she's not incredibly impressed by that. Talk about a great mother; trusting her son's judgement, and just happy that he's happy. Nerdanel is saintly. Do they give mother of the year awards here?
"It's common knowledge that I am not of Arda. Eru had no hand in my existence. Whether he knows about the multiverse or not, we can't say, but it's very safe to assume he's given me permission to be here, in his part of it. Though I can't, for the life of me, quite understand that. You'd think my presence would raise a great many questions. But I digress.
I'm from a world that has many God's. Not all of them very good. Often they don't get along. Ao is their overgod, what Eru is to Arda. At least, as far as we know. And one day he grew tired of the pettiness of the lesser deities and cast then down to the mortal plane, to walk among the mortals.
It royally messed everything up, to say the least. And in my opinion, was worse than anything the lesser gods had gotten up to prior. But no one listens to me. Not that it matters, I was still practically a toddler at the time.
But one of these gods foresaw this, and know that when he would be made mortal, he would be slain. So before it came to pass, he walked among mortals, and sired a score of children. In them he placed his essence, pieces of his divine spirit, so that when they died, his power and life would be returned to him, and he would revive.
His name was Bhaal. His portfolio was unnatural death, his favorite being murder. It earned him the title Lord of Murder. Charming, right? And I'm one of his children."
There's so much more, but that's already a lot of information. She ought to let Nerdanel take it in.
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