Fic: Kindly Meant

[narya_flame]

Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Olórin; Maglor
Word Count: 408
Summary: Olórin's warning to his friend is kindly meant - but not well received.

Part of the Summerland series.

The touch on his mind was gentle and warm. Maglor lifted his head, and set his book to one side. I am here, Olórin. What is it?

Oh, nothing of consequence. The mental voice thrummed like the deep bass counterpoint of an orchestral score. I merely wished to reassure myself that all is well with you. A teasing caress. You have been preoccupied of late.

Maglor laughed. That I have. He turned through a few of the memories in his mind, sharing them with his friend as mortals might share photographs in an album – crossing swords on the stage with Theo; laughing backstage with Rosie as she applied that ridiculous tattoo; Claire, in her nursemaid's wig; all of them together, warm and content in the pub; Claire again, walking on West Sands, red-gold hair blowing back in the sharp Scottish wind...

You care for this young woman.

A pause, like a chord's whispering echo. Yes. What of it?

Makalaurë...

He sighed. Behind the curtains, a moth beat its wings against the window pane. I know what you would say, old friend, but there is no danger – not from her. Even if she guessed -

You cannot be thinking of telling her?

No. It was true; he had no intention of sitting Claire down and explaining who he was. But she is no fool; she will realise soon enough that there is more to me than one first sees. In fact I suspect she knows something already. There was a light in her gaze at times, like the spark of an autumn bonfire, tender and challenging at once – and she heard the stories under his songs. This much he knew.

I do not imagine her to be dangerous, Olórin said gently. But child, can you imagine what this would mean for her? A history so vast and ancient and impossible, intruding upon her world? Can you expect her to encompass it? Then, almost hesitant: And what, in time, would it do to you? Your cousin Aegnor loved a mortal woman–

Keep your lessons to yourself, old man, Maglor flashed back. I have learned them well enough. I walked this world without you for tens of thousands of years. Do not forget that.

A solicitous touch, like a hand to a fevered brow.

Maglor coiled away from it. I neither need nor desire your pity, Olórin. He rose and opened the window to let the moth back outside. Leave me be.

***

A/N - I had said I was going to post all my fics on SWG and Dreamwidth first this year, wherever possible.  This one was gifted, which is not a function DW has, and is part of a series that isn't on SWG, yet, hence going onto AO3 first.

 

Comments

[shirebound]

He turned through a few of the memories in his mind, sharing them with his friend as mortals might share photographs in an album

That's a wonderful image.

[narya_flame]

<3 thank you!

[spiced_wine]

I absolutely love this, it is, I think very Maglor.

[narya_flame]

Thank you :) <3