thegreatlibrary | Welcome to the Library

Entry tags:

Welcome to the Library

Who: Open Post
What: Opening Post
Where: All over the library and its grounds
Warnings: [to be edited if necessary]

Today the Great Library opens its doors to all Patrons, who have come from many of the stories and books all available on the shelves.

For this first visit, Patrons will be restricted to the Library and its grounds.

Fortunate, then, that these are impressive indeed - large gardens set up for all sorts of activities, woods surrounding the area and in the Library itself? Cafes, internet access, and the best weapons in the universe: books.

Do enjoy your first visit to the Library, Patron, and always remember the rules.

The Rules of the Library
1. Patrons cannot read further ahead in their own stories than the time they have arrived from. Any attempt to do so will result in being met with blank pages.This lack of information will also occur if trying to find out spoilers online.

2. Patrons cannot tell other Patrons how their story ends. Any attempt to do so will find the Patron unable to find the words to explain it.

3. All books must be shelved correctly.

4. Do Not Harm the Books

5. Do not interfere with the nature of Narrative Causality

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Faramir catches the meaning of the name, and his eyebrow raises with sad amusement more than curiosity. "That is appropriate, for this place; we could all be named thus."

But he is too courteous to press for the story behind the choice of a pseudonym, however interesting the story must be, and turns the conversation back towards the other topic, difficult as it is. "Alas, you are right. My father is but lately deceased, and I am not yet in the habit of claiming his title. Nor have I taken up his duties, for until being drawn here I was in the care of the healers." His mouth quirks. "For that, at least, I must be thankful to our unknown kidnappers; I arrived in better shape than I left. Though that only makes me all the more impatient to return."

"The tales of your knowledge of Sindarin do not lie either, I see." He smiles and dips his head.

"Aye, tis true. We are all far flung from out homes. I am sorry for your loss - tis always hard to lose a parent! And I am glad you are well, for I fear I am no great healer! For your sake, I hope the way home is swiftly found."

Faramir shrugs, as though to wave this off. "Many in Gondor learn Sindarin--though it is true I put more effort into the learning, and Mithrandir was most patient with a young scholar's curiosity about the language, and willing to correct my errors.

"But come, sit or walk awhiles with me, if you will." Faramir smiles in invitation. "And tell me how it is that my name came to sound in the ears of a simple bard--though I think you do yourself to little credit with that description."

"With good will, my lord."

Maglor laughs, getting up to come over.

"And I suppose I may be underestimating my skill to call myself simple, but any bard worth his salt needs must pay attention to the news of the great, for how else are they to tell the tales the good folk wish to hear?"

Faramir flushes slightly. "I am hardly great; merely a soldier who has tried to serve his country well. Any fame belongs more rightly to others--most particularly to the Lord Aragorn, the king finally returned, or to the Lady Eowyn who so shone on the fields of the Pelennor." He looks briefly distracted and wistful for a moment as he says the name, though it passes in an instant. "Though I will confess to being curious as to what tales a simple bard, if you must style yourself so, would have heard, particularly of recent events. I am most anxious for news, being pulled away so near to the breaking point of the war, and if you know aught that I do not I would be grateful to hear of it."

Maglor looks amused by his wistfulness, but kindly says nothing.

"As I hear tell, you did all a soldier could be asked and more! You ought not underrate yourself!"

He hums. "What news have you heard my lord, and what news would you have? Ask, and if I know, I would gladly tell you!"

Faramir but shakes his head a little, his smile a little tinged with sorrow. It does no good to know that no man could have succeeded in retaking Osgiliath, that his father's final orders to him were madness, just as it is little comfort to know that the Steward bitterly regretted those orders and his last words to his second son. Faramir has been told so--but hearing it and forgetting the memory of their last parting are not the same thing, and the knowledge brings but scant comfort.

But those are no thoughts for this place, or this company. "When I was drawn here, the Captains had just ridden for the Black Gate, with some few days only left before their arrival. One way or another, that battle will bring a conclusion to the long war that has plagued our lands. If you know aught of what has transpired, I would be grateful to learn."

He hesitates, then adds, "Or if you know aught of how those left behind in Minas Tirith fare, I would as glad to hear tidings of them. For the city and all its inhabitants are now in my care, and it is bitter to have been pulled away from them just as that has become the case."

He smiles.

"Ah! Then I can help you indeed! For behold, beyond all hope, the Ringbearer succeeded and Sauron is overthrown. Minas Tirith still stands, my lord, and her king returns to her"

Faramir actually staggers, leaning against a nearby wall and closing his eyes, holding back sudden tears of joy and relief. He is silent for a long moment before murmuring, "Then all will be well, whatever my fate may be. Praise the Valar that it is so..."

Another long moment passes before he turns to look at his companion, and now his smile is broad, if shaken. "Forgive me. It seems the removal of a great weight is almost as overwhelming as its placement."

"The battle is won." Maglor nods, and brushes an understanding hand across Faramir's.

"Do not thank me for that! I but carry the news that the eagles call. Utulien aure! Day has come again indeed."

Faramir seizes the hand for a moment in a brief, strong hold, for such unexpected and joyous news demands connection. "Utulien aure!" he echoes in a murmur. "And the sun burst forth and shone bright in the sky, and all was made golden in its light...almost it is too much to believe possible." He takes a long breath, still standing amazed with wonderment. "And my uncle, Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth--know you if he lives? And my young cousins. And the king of Rohan...gladly would I hear he is well, for his sister's sake--"

He has said a little too much there, but it hardly seems to matter--cannot matter, here and now. But he catches himself, releasing Edlenn's hand. "Again I ask your forgiveness. My great relief makes me overwrought, to ask so many questions of one who may not even know those of whom I speak. It is enough to know that all will be well. Though in truth I am now even more anxious to return than I was, from wishing to see it."

Edited 2018-06-26 23:02 (UTC)

He smiles and grips the hand back.

"A true scholar." He approves. "You know your history! But I cannot give you more news than what I have, I fear, for that is all the Eagle has told us. But I assume that some of the kings and lords still live - which, I do not know, for I have not yet made my way to Gondor to see for myself."

He shakes his head.

"Do not apologise! The defeat of Sauron is a great joy to all in our lands."

Faramir nods. "Then I must be contented with knowing that much. And most foolish it would be to not be content, knowing that the great Enemy is at last overthrown, and the king to return to his throne! Such tidings are joyous indeed."

He does not seem contented, however. Jubilant, even buoyant, perhaps a little anxious; not content. But his expression is warm and grateful. "When we are both returned home, I hope you will make your way to Gondor, and if you do I hope you will seek out this scholar. There I might thank you properly for your news, but here I can offer only inadequate words."

Maglor smiles. "I am glad to have been able to give you this much, then. But I doubt that a bard will have ready access to Gondor's lords! If we meet each other there, my lord, I will play for you gladly, however."

He looks at Faramir thoughtfully. "But my lord, forgive me but... you seem a little anxious?"

The image of Eowyn appears so strongly in Faramir's mind that he could almost swear she stands before him, beautiful enough to steal his breath and so sorrowful Nienna would weep for her. Something tightens in his chest at the thought of her standing alone on the wall, her hair blowing gently in the wind as she looks to the East.

But he shakes his head, trying to dismiss the picture. "Concern for those left behind and for my duties left undone. But there is nothing to be done about either, trapped here as we are."

He looks around with a mixture of fondness and frustration. "It is an irony. If I had heard of this place in my younger days I might have thought it my heart's desire, for I never dreamed so many books could exist, much less be accessable to me. To have endless time and freedom to read them would seem a blessing. And yet it is a cage, and one I would be free of if I could."

Maglor is terrible at osanwe. Always has been. But he blinks briefly and politely pulls his own shields up at the image projected so strongly, thinking that the concern appears to be rather... er... individually directed, at the moment.

"No, I fear not." He says softly. "A cage's bars are wearisome, no matter how kind! I fear I have not been overly bothered about seeking an escape, but surely, if there is one, perhaps it may be found in the books?"

Faramir smiles again. "Such is my hope--or at least, such is my excuse for all the reading I have done since my arrival! And to a bard, I imagine this is a wondrous resource for tales and songs hereto unknown."

A little shyly, he adds, "I would be honored to hear you play, if you are willing. In good time."

"Even so." Maglor smiles, his eyes bright with real interest.

"There are many tales that I do not know - some from far distant lands that I can scarce comprehend, others much closer to what I know."

I could be happy here, Maglor thinks, Of a sort.

"My lord honors me with his request." Maglor says softly and bows, a pleased crinkle to his eyes.

"I would be glad to play for you, any time you wish."

Faramir too could be happy here of a sort, and perhaps half an hour passes pleasantly as they discuss tales found and stories told. Faramir recommends a particular book of poetry he has found here, by one named John Donne; Eldinn recites softly in Quenya, and Faramir stands transfixed by the beauty of his voice, the rhythm of the syllables.

Eventually they find their way to a garden, and Faramir's heart lifts as he turns his face to the daylight. "I am glad, at least, that our cage is not wholly indoors," he says softly. "Much would I miss the sun!"

Maglor lifts his face to the sun as well and hums happily.

"Aye. I will miss the sea, but sunlight does a body good, and I think I would struggle, trapped away from the stars. I wish we had more space than this, but it will do!"

Faramir nods. "I have seen the sea, though not for many years. Often does it find its way into my dreams! But it is the forest I yearn for. We are surrounded by trees, but..." He shakes his head. "No animals live there, nor birds or even insects. It feels too unnatural, as though someone saw a picture of a forest and hoped to recreate it."

And it is unnavigatable, with no landmarks holding their place, and whatever one does, whatever direction one choose, leads only back to here. If this place is a cage, those trees are the bars.

"Into your dreams?" Maglor raises an eyebrow at him. "You are a little far inland, I would have thought, to know the wavesong so! But your mother was from Dol Amroth, if I am remembering my genealogies aright. Perhaps... "

"She was," Faramir confirms, "and several times have I visited my kin there. I cannot say I share the longing she felt, or that I have heard your folk sometimes fall prey to, but I can at least understand it. It is beautiful, both terrible and majestic, and never failed to fill me with awe."

"In the sea there lives yet the echo of the Music of the Ainur more than in any substance else that is in this Earth; and many of the Children of Ilúvatar hearken still unsated to the voices of the Sea, and yet know not for what they listen." Maglor quotes and smiles a little.

"Although some of us know it a little better than others, I suppose." He says quietly.

"But then the tales are true, that the lords of Dol Amroth can name as ancestress one of the Galadhrim! That is well - it is hard to not be certain of the fate of those who ran afoul of the enemy in those dark days."

Faramir raises an eyebrow, his eyes drifting to the harp still held in Eldinn's hands. "Have you never thought to cross the water yourself?" he asks. "Or is it enough to capture what you may of the lost music with harp and string?"

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Don't tell him he marries Eowyn. ;) He shouldn't be able to say this much, but I like it!

Will do! Gotta keep some suspense!

He's got to ask, though. So you'll just have to resist answering.

XD Maglor will be strong! Or the mun will just. Dial back his time a bit =p

The Library would stop him from revealing anything. It's sneaky that way. ;)

GASP how sneaky!

Don't mess with The Library, man.

D= SAVE ME

Sorry. Even a librarian cannot protect you from The Library. Though we can help you navigate.

nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Bwahahaha. Also I got blocked, so let's timeskip over some small talk.

\o/ oh good that way I don't have to make up stuff lol

we'd better think of a direction/goal for these two's interaction though, or I will flail

HM. Well Faramir could be nosy and try and ferret out "Exile"'s true name?

Alas, he doesn't do nosy. Especially not with an elf! Drat. At least they're introduced.

Damn. Uhhhh. HM. I NEED TO PONDER but damn Farry be a bit more nosy XD

Oh, he's curious as hell, he's just also subtle. 'Eldinn' is a walking riddle, can't resist that.