Event Log: Dreamwalker the Second

[hadrielmods]

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the Dreamwalker part 2 event
Where: In your dreams
When: October 14th-20th (the second log will go up on Oct 23rd, please keep the two weeks of the event separate!)
Warnings: All different kinds of dreams falling under the umbrella of Delight, Rage, Sorrow, and Hope.

This time, the weird stuff doesn't happen when you're awake- as a matter of fact, your waking hours are the normal ones. That's because you're forced to sleep by some unknown entity, getting more and more exhausted by the moment as night falls. Better make sure you're always around a soft pillow.

Once asleep, it doesn't get any less weird- your dreams will be influenced by one of the four gods that make up the first week. Something to make you smile, something to make you angry- or something that reminds you of your deepest regret or most vulnerable hope, they're all things that you're dreaming about now for some reason, no matter how hard you may try to pull away from them.

To make matters more complicated, there are others intruding on your dreams who definitely don't belong there, and while they may seem like manifestations at first, it becomes clear that these others are actually the consciousness of other members of Hadriel, getting some top quality exposure to your angriest, happiest, most sorrowful moments. Hope it doesn't get awkward when you see them tomorrow...

► This log covers October 14th-20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you die in dreams you don't die in real life, but if you somehow die in real life anyway, please let us know here.

Comments

[bythewaves]

The Light burns a little, even in (because it is a) dreams, holy rejection of terrible sins, self-inflicted on a tired soul. But Maglor lifts his head to the stars all the same, accepting the censure it brings.

But. Not all the desperation is his and he turns. Amon Ereb fades to the roll of the surf as he turns, the armor and robes replaced by the clothes of a homeless wanderer.

"Curvo?"

(I always call but no one ever answers the voice says sadly)

[so_dark_a_road]

The change from Amon Ereb to the shores of the rolling sea is a little confusing, and for a moment, Curufin does not know where he is or where he is placed in Time. But then he accepts the fluidity of reality, since after all, this is surely Maglor's vision and not his own. Maglor may have dwelt long years in the inland castle in southeast Beleriand, but if he is lonely and truly alone, dreaming of and longing for the past, must he not be wandering the western shores of the Great Sea?

Maglor's spoken question cannot be left unanswered, but his silent exclamation nearly rips Curufin's heart out.

Curufin steps nearer on his quiet feet. Yet his nearness to this beloved brother makes him remember the body, and his feet become less silent. Maglor will be able to see him, even if he is a bit transparent and still bears a resemblance to a shadow on water. His eyes shine in the starlight, gleaming with sorrow and compassion.

"Yes, it's me. I have come a long way."

(But this time I answer, Macalaurë. I am here for you now.)

[bythewaves]

Maglor blinks at him with hollow eyes and sighs softly.

"I am dreaming then."

The seabirds overhead call accusingly, Gil-Estel's light a burning constant.

"You are still dead."

[so_dark_a_road]

"You may be dreaming, for all I know. And I may be dead. . . " Curufin glances down at himself, and then he waves a hand in front of his own face, staring at the waves that show through the transparent fingers. And then he gives a shrug along with a small smile. "Certainly looks that way, doesn't it?"

"But I am here, my brother. You called me, and I have come."

[bythewaves]

"But you will be gone when I wake."

He says sadly.

"You always are."

[so_dark_a_road]

"Not this time, I think."

He draws a little nearer to his brother. He's just a little diffident about this, precisely because he's a ghost.

[bythewaves]

"You're dead." Maglor looks at him confusedly.

"You can't stay. My dreams always end when morning comes."

[so_dark_a_road]

"Yes, I died, and I'm dead. But it turns out that sometimes things aren't. . . quite that simple."

He reaches out tentatively with his ghostly hand, turning it up to offer it.

"I refused the summons of Mandos. I think I can refuse to evaporate in the daylight." He smiles. It's a wistful little smile.

[bythewaves]

"Truly?" Such naked hope on his face as he steps towards his brother.

"You'll stay? I won't be alone?"

The first glimmer of dawn at the edges of the world.

[so_dark_a_road]

"Truly," responds Curufin.

"I'll stay. I should have come sooner. But I will not let you be alone now." His voice trembles with emotion.

He sees the first paling around the edges of the world. The mountains to the east begin to be outlined in that faint light, their tops lit softly with the first flush of rose-orange in the clouds. There is another kind of light, a faint smile on the lips of Curufin.

"Take my hand, Macalaurë," he says, quietly.

[bythewaves]

"Aure entuluva" Maglor murmurs softly.

"Has the morning come at last?"

The rising sun casts them both into silhouette, their shadows stretching long, as Maglor reaches for his brother.

[so_dark_a_road]

"My dear brother, the morning has come," Curufin replies, softly.

His eyes glow in the rising light, and his form solidifies to the extent that now he casts a shadow. The two shadows stretch out from the feet of the two Elves, and it is striking how much alike these shadows are -- they echo the similarity of form and gesture between these brothers.

When Maglor reaches out for him, and their hands clasp, that beloved and well-remembered touch is enough to trigger the completion of Curufin's return to the body. The body is the only part of the soul that we can perceive with our fallen senses, says a mortal poet (William Blake), many eons after Maglor's and Curufin's time. He might almost have been thinking of Elves when he said it, for his description exemplifies their relationship with their bodies. They are solidified soul, though they do not always know this as clearly as Curufin has come to know it.

"Shall we walk together, and enjoy the sunrise, and you can tell me of your journeys since we parted?"

[bythewaves]

Day will come again their cousin said, so long ago.

"The night has been so long." Maglor murmurs wonderingly, as he clasps his brother's hand and then pulls him close with a shuddering sigh.

"Alright." Above, Gil-Estel shines next to the risen sun, two lights with older origins than most now recall.

[so_dark_a_road]

Fingon said those words indeed, and they were remembered long after by his people, with both sorrow and hope. For if Fingon himself had had such a moment of illumination, so close to his own death but with the spirit of prophecy come upon him, then surely hope had not departed from the world. He had not died for nothing.

"The night has been long. For me and for you. And surely I of all people am a strange harbinger of the light that shines on your heart again, my brother -- and yet it is so."

And he embraces Maglor with fervor. "Where shall we go now? For it is you who know these coasts, and I who am the stranger here."

The Morning Star glows brilliant white in the rose-tinged sky, and so bright it is that it does not completely fade even when the sun is risen.

[bythewaves]

"You are all my light." Maglor says fondly, leaning on his brother's strength. "My family, my brothers. The lost parts of my song."

He shrugs a little, shyly. "This is still a dream, though. What do you want to see? Beleriand is sunk beneath the waves, but Middle-earth is still fair."

[so_dark_a_road]

Curufin encloses Maglor in his arms; his strength is at his brother's service. "And you were my lost song, too, my dear Macalaurë! But now we will sing together."

It pierces his heart with sorrow to hear of Beleriand's immersion in the darkness of the ocean. But of course, how else could it be? Such a war as there must have been, at the end of the First Age, with Valar and Maiar and Vanyar marching together, and the Vala of Fire and Darkness and his minions on the other side -- and no one with nothing to lose -- such a confrontation would have broken continents and probably did.

"This may be a dream, but we will treat it as though it were reality. Tell me how you live, where you wander, who shelters you if anyone?" And may it be that there are still those who are kind enough to take in the homeless Fëanorion wanderer, should he pass through their territory!

[bythewaves]

"I am alone" He murmurs, tucking himself into the circle of his brother's arms. "As I have been. I wander where the music takes me, and I sleep beneath the skies, mostly. Sometimes, I play enough to win me a bed for the night. The hobbits of the Shire are not that far away - they don't much like Big Folk, but music they enjoy. They have put me up before."

[so_dark_a_road]

"Then we shall continue to do the same, but as a musical duo! Won't it be something, two Fëanorions making music together? -- we'll put out the hat everywhere we stop, and it will be filled with coppers." He grins at Maglor and lays his cheek on his brothers' hair.

"If the Shire is not far, then let us go there! But tell me, what kind of music do hobbits most enjoy? We must polish up our repertoire, brother!"

[bythewaves]

As dreams do, to wish it is to be there, the sea giving way to green fields and neat gardens and Maglor smiles.

"What else but drinking songs, my brother?"