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One man's blessing is another man's curse

Discussion in 'Cascade Bay' started by Maglor, Jul 19, 2017.

  1. Maglor

    Maglor Tolkien Legendarium

    Posts:
    133
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Musician
    Location:
    Pandora Town
    Race:
    Elf (Noldo)
    Age:
    2000+
    June 10th year 6
    @Apollo

    It has been noted in the lorebooks and histories detailing Arda's First Age and the War of the Jewels, that among his brothers Maglor son of Fëanor was among the kindest and most reasonably minded of his brothers. This "kind and reasonably minded" elf also took part in swearing an unbreakable oath of vengance, helped to start a rebellion against his world's gods, and participated in three sperate massacres. He could be as stubborn and as proud, as quick to anger and as difficult to move from his path as his family name proclaimed him to be.

    And thus, it should come as absolutely no supprise to anyone that upon discovering just where it was Apollo had holed himself up, a legion of balrogs would not keep the elf from giving the sun god a good peice of his mind, let alone Apollo's son.

    "Eru damn you Apollo, and may you languish upon Thangorodrim's peaks!" His first words, as he stormed into the room, door slamming open in his wake. "I have had my language stolen from me, whenever I pass by the laurel tree just outside of my own home I am filled with an overwhelming melancholy, and I am glowing brighter that Laurelin at her full waxing!"

    To be fair, as a high elf of Valinor, born in the light of the Two Trees, Maglor had always carried about him a subtle glow, and this was nothing new. Rather, it was the intensity of it which only seemed to grow in relation to Maglor's emotions.

    It almost seemed as though Maglor was attempting to set fire to Apollo with only his gaze. "Undo this. Now."

    ((Hope this works! If anything needs changing just say so :) ))
     
  2. Apollo

    Apollo Percy Jackson and the Olympians

    Posts:
    151
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    God | Teacher | Nurse | Musician
    Location:
    Everywhere
    Race:
    Olympian God
    Age:
    4610 (17-18)
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    Apollo was sleeping when he heard the door to his room slam open so hard it banged against the wall and shook the bed he lay on. With a startled gasp, the now mortal god shot up into a sitting position and instantly regretted it as the world spun around him and his shoulder burned like fire. Groaning he fell back onto the bed and pulled one of his pillows over his head to try and block out the shrieks of the most annoying man in the world, Maglor.

    Alas, his efforts were pointless. The angry voice of his temp range through the room like a sound of a thousand drums beating at the same time. Pounding through his brain leaving a painful ache that Apollo was certain would kill him if the man where to continue. His teeth ground against the pain as he closed his eyes and tried to turn that other man into something silent. Like a flower. Something that was actually pleasant for a change.

    But that was something that would not and could not be for he had no more of his own power. He had given it all away with the thought that it would help and in a way it had. He wasn’t dead at least. Just extremely extremely mortal. He could feel it in every part of him now. He was a sack of human fleshy meat and a broken one at that. His attempts had cured his potential death problems but his body, which had maintained its strength through godly power, was now a mess of pain and exhaustion.

    Maglor’s yelling was not helping in the least. In fact, it both caused him pain emotionally and physically. It also made his blood boil with anger? Could the elf truly think that he had wanted this? Did he think that he wasn’t to give his power to some ungrateful idiot like him? Hades no! If he could have survived while maintaining his power he would have. And this man came here, throwing his sacrifice and gift in his face.

    If he had had the energy to do it, Apollo would have punched him right then and there. He had about enough of Maglor’s attitude. Alas he didn’t. But that didn’t stop him from chucking his pillow at Maglor’s face with what strength his did have as he yelled, ”Go away, you ungrateful bastard!” not knowing it would cause him more pain to do this than it would have to just listen to him complain.

    His already pale pallor (which was uncommon for him as it was) paled even further as he bit back a shout of brain that tried to force itself through teeth and closed lips. He clutched to his wounded shoulder as he saw dark spots blur his vision. Unable to hold himself in the seated position he had taken to throw the pillow, Apollo weakly fell back on the bed and did everything he could not to follow his new mortal instincts and cry. He only half managed it as tears gathered in his eyes threatening to pour out.

    He would never forgive him if he did.
     
  3. Maglor

    Maglor Tolkien Legendarium

    Posts:
    133
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Musician
    Location:
    Pandora Town
    Race:
    Elf (Noldo)
    Age:
    2000+
    He grabbed at the pillow flung at him as it spun just inches before him, a reflex trained over decades worth of arguments and fights with his own family growing up. And ai! Did he sound more like one of his brothers in their youth rather than any one of the Valar in their full dignity and glory as well. ”Go away, you ungrateful bastard!” Perhaps this was why he'd dared to bring himself here now, and approached this as he had. His interactions with Apollo -- because Apollo was not one of his own gods, because of Apollo's own personality, Eru knew the exact reason why -- somehow lacked the same gravity that challenging Morgoth upon his front gates or defying the Valar to their very faces would have had.

    And so, snatching the pillow from the air and tucking it under his arm, He sauntered forward, towards the bed ignoring Apollo's words as though he'd never spoken them. "Consider this repayment for your own visit to me in February." The elf replied. He paused for a moment, eyes flickering over Apollo's form, his pallid, weakened appearance,the way he clutched his shoulder before falling back onto the bed. A frown just began to tug at the corner of Maglor's lips and despite himself he felt his anger begin to fade, that glow around him dimming.

    Still. There was a part of him that could not help but find some amount of schadenfreude in this situation.

    "You have an entire world of people here, Shockingly some of them are even musicians," Maglor drawled, dropping the pillow back onto Apollo's bed, "I m sure you could have thought of someone else who would be more grateful for...this." He shook his head, raking a hand back up through his hair, eyeing Apollo once more. "Eru," He murmured, "But you look like hell..."
     
  4. Apollo

    Apollo Percy Jackson and the Olympians

    Posts:
    151
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    God | Teacher | Nurse | Musician
    Location:
    Everywhere
    Race:
    Olympian God
    Age:
    4610 (17-18)
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    Perhaps if Apollo were in a better mood he would have been in a more understanding mood. Alas, he was not in a better mood and he was not understanding. Maglor complained about losing when all he had done was received gain upon gain. Apollo was the one who had lost everything. He wasn’t even himself anymore. He was something else. A gross meat sack suffering from a wound he hadn’t deserved. Well Maglor complained about losing his language, Apollo lost everything that he was and hearing those complaints were insufferable.

    If he had the energy to do it he might have gotten up and punch the elf right in his smug nose regardless of the fact that he was now a god. Instead he just glared at him from the bed where he lay weak and unable to do anything. If he was trying to embarrass him he was doing a damn good job at it.

    ”Oh yes, because I really wanted to give you a piece of my power. That’s exactly what I wanted to do,” the now mortal god said with a rolling of his eyes in an unmistakable sarcastic tone. ”What does it matter why you were chosen? It can’t be changed now. You’re stuck like that as much as I am stuck like this. If you have a cure for whatever malediction that has put me in this position I’d be happy to take my power back but until then you’re stuck with it.”

    Then, without another word, he turned his head away from Maglor and stared at nothing in particular. If he didn’t catch the hint Apollo would make it more clear. His presence was an eyesore and he didn’t want him around. All it did was make him think of what he had lost and Apollo hated him for it.
     
  5. Maglor

    Maglor Tolkien Legendarium

    Posts:
    133
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Musician
    Location:
    Pandora Town
    Race:
    Elf (Noldo)
    Age:
    2000+
    The longer elf and god spoke, the more and more familiar things began to feel. Ai! How could a being who supposedly ruled over the sun, over music, over -- Eru, if Maglor's reading over the cosmologies and myths of other worlds were correct, than over the thousand and one different spheres that Apollo apparently ruled over -- how could a being with so much responsibility be so incredibly immature?

    "Ai, eru, is this Moryo who speaks?" Maglor muttered, voice pitched low enough that the elf almost exhaled the words. Hand pressed to temple, Maglor's head shook. Apollo's words were certainly dripping with enough sarcasm to have come past the lips of the fourth son of Curufinwë Fëanáro, especially if caught in a particularly foul mood. The wort part of all was, Maglor might even have felt a certain amount of sympathy for the pathetic lump of a god now turned away and staring at the wall as though the streach of plaster provided a much more pleasurable view of the room than the area where Maglor stood.

    Well, Maglor might have if Apollo hadn't been acting like such a pathetic lump. Nor as much of a hypocrite. After all, was not Maglor experiencing right now the very transformation of being that Apollo had gone through?

    Eyes rolling up towards the ceiling, Maglor sighed, "Yes," The elf drawled,"keep displaying an attitude unbecoming for a child of barely fourty."
     
    #5 Maglor, Jan 12, 2018
    Last edited: Jan 12, 2018
    Apollo likes this.
  6. Apollo

    Apollo Percy Jackson and the Olympians

    Posts:
    151
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    God | Teacher | Nurse | Musician
    Location:
    Everywhere
    Race:
    Olympian God
    Age:
    4610 (17-18)
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    Apollo scowled at the wall at the other man's words. Forty? He wasn't even that old anymore! In this body with out his power he was reduced to that of a 19-20 year old meat sack regardless of the age he had been before he had been forced to give up his power. Would he consider that? Apollo highly doubted it. Maglor was always so full of himself about everything. Of course he wouldn't consider the changes he was going through and the problems he was facing. Problems that he couldn't even face with a healthy and fully functional body!

    "Maglor, has anyone ever told you how completely annoying you can be? I've known monsters less insufferable than you," Apollo said flatly, his bitterness of the situation spilling out as he spoke. He wanted to hurt Maglor's precious ego more than he wanted to do anything else in that moment and in his mind the elf deserved it. Did he come here just to yell at him assuming that in his weakened state he would just bend over and take it? If he did, the elf had another thing coming completely.

    Apollo's body might be broken, everything that he was might have been taken away from him but his mouth was still fully functional and he intended to put it to good use.
     
  7. Maglor

    Maglor Tolkien Legendarium

    Posts:
    133
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Musician
    Location:
    Pandora Town
    Race:
    Elf (Noldo)
    Age:
    2000+
    A part of him wondered why it was he still remained here, certainly neither of them were particularly happy about the entire affair, and yet...

    Well. Here he was

    Maglor sighed. Perhaps it was pity that kept him here with Apollo now. Or some sense of utter wrongness, seeing this man who's acquaintanceship with him had been spent mainly arguing (even when under the effects of a love spell and about to tear off one another's clothes, they couldn't bloody well help but argue first...) so sullen and pathetic. And really as insults went this one was...rather weak, truth to tell. 'Annoying' was hardly the worst thing he had ever been called certainly. Really, he should demand better!

    "'Monster' is hardly a new one, and I have seven brothers, so yes. I've certainly been told I am insufferable as well." Maglor drawled. Leaning up against the head board of Apollo's bed, he turned to watch him, yet still there was no change. If Apollo were not powerless Maglor might have assumed that a pair of holes were about to be burdened through that wall at any moment. As it was, the elf remain silent for a long while, before finally speaking again.

    He dropped himself onto the corner of the bed (Eru help him, why had he compared this to their meeting in February of all things? He tried not to think of it, despite the what that only made things worse and had his stomach flipping over itself for some Valar-forsaken reason at the thought.) and sighed. "Really, if you are going to insult me I must demand you do better. Powerless or not, you are a god of poetry, are you not?"
     
    #7 Maglor, Mar 13, 2018
    Last edited: Mar 13, 2018
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  8. Apollo

    Apollo Percy Jackson and the Olympians

    Posts:
    151
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    God | Teacher | Nurse | Musician
    Location:
    Everywhere
    Race:
    Olympian God
    Age:
    4610 (17-18)
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    Oh, that was IT! It was on. Apollo had about as much as he could take over Maglor's attitude and if wanted to be insulted, he would give him what he wanted. With a painful twist of his body, Apollo turned on the beautiful elf and began to shout every insult he could think of in every language he could think of even though he knew they would only come out as English and less effective. On an on he went only stopping for breathes and not giving Maglor a word in edgewise. This was exactly what he wanted wasn't it? Would this finally make him happy and make him leave?

    When he finally ran out of ancient insults he began to target the man himself. He dug deep, going for the things that would hurt him the most. He wanted him to hurt. Though he knew it wasn't right he selfishly wanted someone to suffer with him. He targeted his family. He targeted his music. He targeted him personally. It all tumbled from his lips completely seemingly without end even as his anger began to slip away along with the energy that had come with it. Only the little boy Elros was except from his insults as he rattled on and on until he finally brought it to a close.

    "You're so pathetic you couldn't even retrieve a stone without your whole family suffering and dying in the attempt and now all you do is mope around writing that pathetic song that will never achieve anything other than eternal sorrow for you and anyone who hears it! Also, your composition sucks! I could do better in my sleep!" the god finally finished. A part of him felt like he had gone a little to far but in that moment he really didn't care. He just wanted to be left alone. Couldn't Maglor see that?

    The longer the elf stuck around the more he wanted him gone. He hadn't wanted the elf to see him like this in the first place. Weak? Bedridden? Unable to do anything but lay where he was and shout out his frustrations? There was nothing more embarrassing for him then to have Maglor see him as he was and yet there he was. Maybe if he insulted him more he would go away and leave him to his suffering in privacy...
     
  9. Maglor

    Maglor Tolkien Legendarium

    Posts:
    133
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Musician
    Location:
    Pandora Town
    Race:
    Elf (Noldo)
    Age:
    2000+
    "Three." He said, when Apollo finally fell silent. "There were three Sillmarilli." A pause, and Maglor sat there looking as he though he were considering something, "I must commend you on that one about throwing myself to the crows, however. I will have to write that down for later." He shook his head, pushing himself to his feet as he strode across the room, stopping just before a window and peering outside. There was a part of him that knew, on some level, that he should have been hurt by all that was said. Angered, at the very least for what had been said of his family. And yet...

    He knew it all. For all that wallowing in self pity and loathing had served him with, at the very least he was inured against most insults. What could anyone else say that was worse than what he thought of himself? And as for the rest of what had been said...he had, quite literally asked for it. It was as bad as continuing to harry a wounded hound that had crawled off to the corner to lick his wounds. You were going to get bitten, and it was a fool who was angered by the hound for doing so.

    But if Apollo ever said anything about his Mother again, while unprovoked...Eru grant him mercy.

    As it stood, the elf remained remarkably calm. He stood there, staring outside and away from Apollo, his back to the sun god and his hands folded behind him. "I left my brother -- the Eldest, Maitimo -- I left him in Morringotto's hands for thirty years. Hung from a mountaintop by only his wrist, while I served our people as Prince Regent. You forgot to call me a craven for that one." He shifted his gaze back over his shoulder, watching Apollo from the corner of his eye, "Or perhaps you didn't know to." Shaking his head, Maglor shrugged, "When he was finally rescued, finally brought back down from that mountain, I could circle my fingers unbroken around his arm. His body was scarred, a good part of his ear seemed as though it was bitten off. He lost his hand in the escape."

    He raked back a hand through his hair as he turned finally to face Apollo. "You are...shamed? Maitimo acted the same way at first. And others after him. This is not the worst I have seen." His lips thinned then, and he shook his head, gaze quickly darting away. "But I would be out on my ear right now, for harrasing you as thus. I..apollogize. I have been here long enough." With those words, Maglor made his way towards the door, but he did not leave. Instead he paused, just before it, as though the thought had just occurred to him, "And, just for the record, there is nothing wrong with my composition."
     
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  10. Apollo

    Apollo Percy Jackson and the Olympians

    Posts:
    151
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    God | Teacher | Nurse | Musician
    Location:
    Everywhere
    Race:
    Olympian God
    Age:
    4610 (17-18)
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    Guilt... Was this guilt he felt creeping in like a nasty queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach or was he bleeding again? He looked at his shoulder and when he saw nothing he knew which one it was... Ugh, reason number a million why he hated being mortal. When he looked at Maglor after his rant he knew he had done wrong and not even the embarrassing factor of forgetting there were three Sillmarilli put it off at all. He willed himself to think of something else. Anything else that would make the guilt go away and make that furious anger return. Why didn't Maglor just yell at him back like he always did? Had he given him less credit then he deserved?

    It became very clear that that line of thought had hit the nail on the head. He had thought that there was no way Maglor could understand. He had thought that Maglor was to conceited and inwards thinking to consider the thoughts and feelings of another person. It was only after the story of his brother and the mention of shame that Apollo realized the truth. He had totally misjudged Maglor somehow. If anything he was the one that was in the wrong. He was the one focusing on himself. He was the selfish one. The one that wanted to hurt those around him. The one who wanted to drive them away because he was so horrified and ashamed of his situation.

    That hit him hard and made his insides ache annoyingly. He thought about all he had said and all the things Maglor had and found himself feeling something he hadn't felt in a very long time. Remorse... 'May the furies chase me for my folly,' he thought with an inward groan. How he did hate the felling of remorse above all others. How he hated being mortal enough to truly feel it again. How he hated the way Maglor turned his back on him to leave. He had successfully chased Maglor away but now he deeply regretted it and the way it had been done...

    When the elf paused and turned face him, addressing his masterpiece, Apollo finally broke under the pressure of his new found mortal feelings and with a sigh he muttered, "I know... It's brilliant. I don't even know why I said that..."

    He felt something warm slip from the corner of his eye and roll down his cheek and he knew what it was as he lifted a hand to cover his face. Tears. Not tears. Anything but tears! But he couldn't stop them as much as he wanted to. Nor could he stop the shaking of his body or the ugly sounds that threatened to follow but were muffled by clenched teeth. He really hated himself right now and there was nothing he could do about it.
     
    #10 Apollo, Mar 14, 2018
    Last edited: Mar 14, 2018
  11. Maglor

    Maglor Tolkien Legendarium

    Posts:
    133
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Musician
    Location:
    Pandora Town
    Race:
    Elf (Noldo)
    Age:
    2000+
    Was he...was he crying? Valar...This was the last thing the elf had expected, and certainly the last thing he had wanted. Sulky, self-pitying anger, bitterness, why could he not leave Apollo like that? Caught up in his own problems and not caring who he hurt in lashing out. Not...not crying. He could not leave him now, not in tears.

    His lips pressed together, and he found himself edging back into the room. Slipping back down onto Apollo's bedside. Wrapping his arms around the man's chest and pulling him to him, fingers-carding through his hair as he murmured softly to him. "It's alright, it's fine. let it out , just let it out..." He hadn't thought about it, it was instinct brought about by not knowing what else to do when faced with a weeping god. It had been how he'd comforted his brothers as children and his cousins, then Elros afterwards. His wife, at times...

    He was in the midst of drawing his hand through Apollo's hair again when he realize what he was doing.When he took note of how close he was holding the sun god and the sweet tone his words had taken on in addressing him.

    It meant nothing.

    It didn't. Only...only that he couldn't stand to see Apollo in tears, and that only because he couldn't stand to see anyone in tears. Yet still, though he did not jerk immediately away from Apollo, Maglor's hold around him loosened and he stopped tracing his hand through his hair and rubbing circles over his back. He cleared his throat. "I will say nothing about this, if you do not."

    A pause. And then, "Do you...do you really think it's brilliant? Or is that mere overcompensation because you are feeling guilty?"
     
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  12. Apollo

    Apollo Percy Jackson and the Olympians

    Posts:
    151
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    God | Teacher | Nurse | Musician
    Location:
    Everywhere
    Race:
    Olympian God
    Age:
    4610 (17-18)
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    There was no sound of a door opening or closing. No sound of footsteps walking to the door. Nothing. It was almost unbearably silent outside of his own muffled sobs. Ugh, why was he still there? Couldn't he see he was embarrassing him half to death!? He just wanted to be left alone in his misery. Or so he told himself as he lay there sobbing into his hand. Why did he even say anything? If he hadn't have said anything Maglor would hav-!

    He was unable to finish that thought though for in that moment the footsteps started to walk towards him. What was that man doing? Of all the things he had expected it was not for him to start walking towards him. Had he finally lost his temper and intended to take it out on him? That didn't sound like Maglor's style at all. He was weak and bedridden. If he was going to fight him it would be at full health. What was the deal!?

    Not knowing what to expect his body tensed when the elf sat down on the side of the bed and opened him mouth to tell him off only for the most unexpected thing to happen. Maglor's arms wrapped around him and pulled him off the bed into his embrace.

    A yelp of pain escaped his still open mouth as his should moved uncomfortably but he clamped down on it stubbornly hoping that he took it as a sound of surprise. And he was surprised. He couldn't even begin to guess what was going on in Maglor's head. Had he finally lost his mind or something? This wasn't like him at all.

    Regardless of those thoughts, Apollo found himself sinking into the embrace as his tear strewn face rested against the soft cotton of the elf's shirt. With Maglor's acceptance he found he could no longer hold himself together. The tears came fast and hard as he wrapped his good arm around him and clutched the back of the other man's shirt. He muffled the sounds of his sobs as best he could between them as he took comfort in those words, the stroking of his back and the fingers running through his hair.

    He was one hundred percent he would look terrible by the time Maglor let him go but he didn't care. Not at that particularly moment anyways. Eyes red, cheeks stained and snot dribbling down his face. Gross, mortals were disgusting... But for this moment. This one moment. He just wanted to be comforted. He wanted someone to tell him it would be okay because, for the first time, he didn't know if it would be.

    Then the soothing hands stopped and the elf cleared his throat and the moment was shattered. His heart sank dangerously low for a moment. It felt like it would crash through the floor if it wasn't stuck in this ridiculously handsome meat sack. But he knew it could not and would not last forever. It was a miracle it had happened at all. The words stung the most. Was Maglor ashamed of him and what had happened?

    Still, his hand released the back of the elf's shirt and slumped down to rest beside him breaking the embrace on his part. If Maglor was ashamed he would not force it upon him.

    Apollo sniffled, lifting his hand to rub at his nose in an effort to clear it as he replied, "I doubt you would say anything even if I didn't agree but I accept your terms regardless." Maglor had done him a kindness and in turn he would do the same by keeping his mouth shut on the matter. Besides, all it would do would shame him further and he didn't know if he could bare more shame then he had received already.

    "And yes... It is brilliant. There are places that could be improved upon but I know no other mortal with your skill for music, Maglor. That is why I made you the god of music. I knew you would love and respect it as deeply as I do..." Apollo finished. His confession marred by the stuffiness of his nose and continued sniffling as he tried to dry his face on his sleeve. He was pretty sure that Maglor's shirt was damp enough to be perfectly useless in that effort.
     
  13. Maglor

    Maglor Tolkien Legendarium

    Posts:
    133
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Musician
    Location:
    Pandora Town
    Race:
    Elf (Noldo)
    Age:
    2000+
    "Oh." There was a pause, a ringing silence as the elf let the words sink in to their full effect, where he could only stare back at Apollo, blinking. He tried quickly to recover, his gaze dropping away as he shook his head, and he found himself speaking again almost as though to seek cover for his actions and not let the sun god know how much his praises actually effected him. "Well, it is better, I suppose, than having my music silenced, to find my voice breaking and my fingers stumbling whenever I reach for my harp..."

    Maglor was finding, even as he brought back to mind that same bloody curse that Apollo had lain on him after their first meeting, however, that keeping the burr stuck, sharp and angry, into his words was...difficult. Even as he spoke he was reaching over, gently wiping away the tears that still streaked down Apollo's face. He still couldn't quite look the sun god in the eyes, choosing to focus on the movements of his own hand instead. But even so, in the face of the snuffling, red-eyed, tear-strained being beside him, Maglor sighed, moving in more fully onto the bed. Taking special care not to jostle the man's shoulder this time, he eased Apollo up to rest his head against his shoulder.

    Damn the man. Damn him to Angband's darkest pits. For giving him these powers. For making him feel any sort of pity or sympathy towards him. For having as much love as passion for the very thing that stood as core to Maglor's life, and seeing that in him and...

    For making things complicated. It was easier to hate him and to fight with him, to see him as some representation of everything his family had stood against, everything that had inspired his father to stir up a rebellion against his own gods in the first place. Simpler. And that was without their last encounter, by now months gone but still so clear and glass-cut in Maglor's mind. He struggled not to think about it. The more...tender moments of that day, where he did not want Apollo to leave him and he'd reveled in every soft, warm touch.

    This wasn't like that. That was Pandora's magic, or whatever it was, binding a snare around him. This was...this was remorse, for kicking the man when he was clearly down. And that was all.

    Eru help him, let the bloody bastard heal up soon, that he might take his abilities back and things could go back to normal between them. That he could argue with the man again without feeling like a complete and utter arse.

    As it stood, for now he just let his fingers drift absently through Apollo's hair again, toying with that lovely splay of golden curls. "I am..." He pressed his lips together, glancing away as e spoke the words, "I cannot help but be... honored to hear such high praise..." And it was not untrue. It was a god of music who had spoken the words. If it were Salmar or Ossë, or or the Lord of Waters, Ulmo, himself, would Maglor not feel just so? "I know it is still far from perfect, still far from finished yet...it never will be it seems, but then that is the way with all of my work. You have probably listened to it enough. if you had any input--"

    Maglor cut himself off, suddenly falling silent. It wasn't merely that he had asked for Apollo's input or opinions, really. Long decades under his father's tutelage in the forge had trained him to seek critique where others would praise. It was that he had so easily found himself falling into conversation with the man at all.

    "Well." He finished, "I doubt you would keep your mouth shut if you had anything to say about it." Another moment's awkward silence stretched out, and Maglor turned back to Apollo then. "I am older than the sun, you know." For a moment it occurred to him who he was actually speaking to and that made the entire thread of conversation all the stranger. Maglor quickly shook his head, "It is....strange, to hear you call me mortal."
     
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  14. Apollo

    Apollo Percy Jackson and the Olympians

    Posts:
    151
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    God | Teacher | Nurse | Musician
    Location:
    Everywhere
    Race:
    Olympian God
    Age:
    4610 (17-18)
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    He was trying to make Apollo feel guilty with those words. It was clear as day. But Apollo didn't feel any guilty at all. When first they met, Maglor had been a nasty piece of work. He would go so far as to call his behavior racist and Apollo wasn't going to apologize or feel one ounce of guilt for what he did that day. As far as he was concerned the elf had deserved every bit of his punishment and the only reason it had stopped was because he had missed the sound of his music as melancholy as it always was.

    Those thoughts ran through Apollo's mind. Depression and agitation mixed together in an irritating ball threatening another yelling match. But before he could say anything, the man's hand was reaching out towards his face. Oh great now what was he doing? It was so unexpected it could have been anything really. It was clear that bitterness was back. There was a moment of queasy anticipation that suddenly felt very stupid when the action did not match the words he had spoken only moments before.

    He stroked the tears from his cheek and his mind became very suddenly empty. What was he going to say? He knew he was going to say something but whatever it was seemed to pop right out of his head the moment that surprising act of tenderness was expressed.

    Seriously? SERIOUSLY!?

    One minute he was saying things intentionally to hurt him and the next he was showing him kindness befitting a lover! He didn't understand the Maglor at all and it was frustrating to no end. Still he couldn't help but find the gesture comforting. The elves hand was warm against his tear soaked face. It was almost enough to make him forget his complete embarrassment in regards to his disastrous appearance. Almost.

    It was only when the elf clawed into bed with him and rested his head on his shoulder that that completely went out the window. A part of him knew this was all pity. The man he knew would have walked out the door probably feeling very proud of himself for making him cry. The only time he had shown him an ounce of tenderness and love was when they had been under a spell. A spell that had twisted their emotions in a way that had caused love between them. Not the one sided attraction it had always been before.

    Apollo remembered how it felt when the next day came and everything had turned back to the way it had been. He was bitter about it. The elf had been his and with one swift move Pandora had torn him away. What had he done to deserve that? Why had Pandora decided to torment him in such a way? All he had ever done was show her great kindness and that was the way she had repaid him? It was perhaps best if they hadn’t of had that night at all. Or so he had thought in his bitterness.

    He knew he should be ashamed of this pity Maglor was showing him. Gods needed no one’s pity. But, in that moment, he wasn’t a god nor did he really care. He found his arm wrapping around Maglor again as he took in as much comfort as the other man would offer, nuzzling in close without really thinking about it and closing his eyes. This was both what he needed right now and what he wanted regardless of the circumstances. Regardless of how he would feel when Maglor pulled away again. Regardless of the bitter thoughts already forming in the back of his mind.

    He listened as the other man spoke, enjoying the feeling of his long fingers running through his hair, and found himself smiling despite his melancholy. Was that appreciation he heard finally coming from Maglor’s mouth? Ah, no. He must clearly be hearing things. Maglor didn’t know what appreciation was let alone how to express it. Still, he couldn’t seem to help but smile at the thought that he might. The elf was bound to say something to ruin the moment any time now and he intended to indulge in the few seconds that he had.

    He wasn’t wrong.

    As quickly as those sweet, even kind words left Maglor’s mouth they turned back to that prickly smartass snark Maglor was renowned for (at least in Apollo’s book). He couldn’t help but sigh and shake his head a little in exasperation (and let me tell you. That’s not an easy task sniffling as he was). Zeus forbid they ever go a full conversation without Maglor throwing brambles and fire. He was pretty sure the elf would die if he didn’t get the last sting in before storming from the room or falling silent for that matter.

    ”Do you always ruin pleasant conversations with prickles and thorns or am I just special?” Apollo found himself asking, his agitation showing in his tone as much as it did on his face. It was a question he often asked himself and this time he wanted and answer. Though, even as he asked that he started to wonder if he had deserved every prickle and thorn that had been tossed his way. Gods… He hated being mortal.

    Quickly he changed the subject to turn his mind away from that line of thought, ”Actually, you’re wrong. I have plenty of input. I just know you wouldn’t listen to me even if I tried to give it. Every kindness I have ever tried to show you you have rejected or you have thrown it back in my face except for that one night and even then we fought. I am grateful for your appreciation but do not blame me for the lack of input. A god can only take so much rejection before they decide it’s best to leave well enough alone and it’s pointless to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”

    Perhaps that was a little to harsh. But from Apollo’s point of view it was the truth. He had many suggestions for Maglor. Or at least he had… Before all of this happened. Now he wasn’t even sure if he could play a key right let alone help with anything music related.

    ”That’s neither here nor there now though. You are the god of music, poetry and the arts. If you want my input now I suggest you use your newly gained knowledge to your advantage. I’ve made being a god easy for you. You can do it from this very room while you work on your music if you want. I’ve given you a great gift, Maglor. Don’t waste it.” he continued. His words soft and not at all biting. He was too comfortable, too tired and too depressed to be anything short of matter of fact as he lay curled up next to Maglor and reached out to take elf’s free hand into his own.

    Finally he said the last thing on his mind, ”Can you die, Maglor?” It was the most tragic thing he could think of and he really didn’t want to think about it but, yet again, there was a point that needed to get across. Older than the sun he maybe in his world but age was not the only factor in mortality. At least not in the way Apollo understood it.
     
    #14 Apollo, Mar 18, 2018
    Last edited: Mar 18, 2018
  15. Maglor

    Maglor Tolkien Legendarium

    Posts:
    133
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Musician
    Location:
    Pandora Town
    Race:
    Elf (Noldo)
    Age:
    2000+
    It was not...pity that made him act. The elf could not say what it was exactly: why he still remained; why, after so swiftly breaking his previous embrace of the other man, he'd moved in so close again, pulling Apollo back to him. Only that in the moment it had felt right. He didn't want to think too hard about what that meant, and he knew that as soon as this moment was broken, when he left the room everything would inevitably return to as it had been (It would. And he would not regret it.). There was...remorse certainly. But not pity, that he could honestly say.

    He had not meant to truely hurt Apollo, certainly not to bring him to tears. He would have been content if the both of them could just remain in their own separate spheres and interfered with one another as little as possible. Hard to reconcile that now with the way Apollo was nuzzling closer, arm wrapping around him. Maglor froze, his eyes slipping downwards towards the other man. His breath caught as his gaze brushed over Apollo's face, and he watched the sun god's eyes slide shut. A sharp pang burst through in his chest. Alright. Perhaps...perhaps Apollo wasn't so bad. Not, the absolute worst being that he could stuck in the same room with.

    Atleast when he wasn't talking.

    Maglor glanced away quickly again, leaning back against the bed and staring up towards the ceiling for a moment before he let his own eyes close, a sigh --an almost content sound -- escaping him. When this ended it would be as though it had never happened. But for now...for now, he just let himself return to absently playing with Apollo's hair.

    Whatever brief moments of peace that lie between them, however, they didn't last long. And it was, Maglor was forced to admit, partially his own doing. ”Do you always ruin pleasant conversations with prickles and thorns or am I just special?” The elf's eyes snapped open, as he turned back to meet Apollo's gaze. As if to prove the man right, atleast six thorny retorts began to form on Maglor's tongue in that instant. Before he could say even one of them however, Apollo was already changing the subject, as if he didn't want to hear the elf's answer, whatever it was.

    "You have...an odd idea of leaving well enough alone." Maglor observed, after listening to Apollo for what he certainly felt like was long enough. He couldn't really bring himself to say much more than that. Not when Apollo's own words rather lacked the bite they should have, and Maglor's fingers were curling into Apollo's grasp. It was so...easy, the elf found himself thinking in astonishment. He felt warm, and comfortable and good, just here, like this, Apollo's weight curled up against him so strangely satisfying. It could be so easy between them...

    No, no what was going on with his head? It was...nothing. Just a fleeting thought.He didn't need to think about it too much, and he didn't want to just then. He just needed to lie back, shut his eyes again, let this be.

    At Apollo's last words, Maglor remained silent for a long while, seriously considering the question. "How do you consider death?" He finally asked. "The spirit may become separated from the body, yes, if that is what you are asking, but..." His lips thinned, tongue clicking off from his teeth as he searched for the right words, "It is more complicated than that. My kind is bound to our world, fated to live as long as Arda exists. I do not age as a mortal Man, I do not sicken, my body is better adapted to house my spirit, and therefore my spirit holds greater sway over it. I can endure. Indeed, I may survive on pure spite alone if I must, and beyond that may recover from wounds that to a Man would be mortal.The world is...marred, however, and because of this my spirit may become unhoused. When my kind are slain it is to the Halls of Awaiting that we go, though only for a time. There we face the judgement of the Doomsman of the Valar, Námo Mandos, and our spirits receive healing from whatever traumas placed them there. Afterwards we are re-embodied and released back into the world to live amongst our kin again." As he finished, Maglor blinked, then quickly shook his head, raking the hand that Apollo wasn't holding up through his hair. "Ai, Eru, I sound like Findaráto." He muttered under his breath, "You did not ask to be bored with a loremaster's speech...I..." The elf only shook his head, trailing off into a sigh.
     
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