#Izu does not find him particularly impressive or noteworthy

[thishazeleyeddemon]

Crossover

(few years post-canon for Dunmeshi)

"You're moping again."

Maglor closed his eyes. He was a being of incomparable patience, he told himself. It had been too long since he'd had younger brothers or children underfoot, that was it. It was hard to adjust to this kind of prodding, again. "I'm only -"

"You don't have to tell me," Izutsumi interrupted. The woman was brushing her hair when he looked over at her. She was more fastidious than he'd assumed when he'd met her. She didn't braid her hair, but she brushed it, and pulled out tangles as she walked.

"I just noticed it," she continued. "You're always moping in the morning. And sometimes you go off and sing. Why do you sing so much?"

Maglor shrugged. "Ask why a bird has wings. It's just what I do."

"Huh." Izutsumi seemed to consider this.

"I was once counted one of the greatest singers in my world, I'll have you know," Maglor felt obliged to point out.

This was likely a mistake - Izutsumi snorted. She tossed the brush back to her pack, before starting to pull her dark hair back into a ponytail. His fingers itched for a moment to braid it. It was surely long enough for it, and he'd seen braids on other folk, but the most she ever did was try and keep it out of her face.

He refrained from offering - for one thing, she didn't know the meaning of braids among the Noldor. It would be an ill-done thing to involve her in a custom without her knowledge.

"Weren't you a prince or something? People always say things like that to royalty." He'd never met anyone who said royalty the way that Izutsumi did. She said it not with awe or hatred, but with at best vague amusement and disdain. She sounded like she was humoring the notion, like the thought of princes was at best faintly ridiculous.

A cat can look at a king, indeed, Maglor thought. Outwardly, he said, "Why don't I sing you something, and you tell me if you think it was just the privilege of a prince or not?"

Someone else might have demurred; Izutsumi's eyes lit up curiously. "Okay." She sat down in front of him. She had a kind of artless grace that reminded him of Celegorm - he killed that thought.

"Only if it's not sad," Izutsumi interrupted before he could start.

"Most Noldorin songs are of tragedies," Maglor protested. "We sing to honor the sorrows we've endured." Or caused.

Izutsumi's nose wrinkled. "Don't you get bored?"

"I -"

For one long awful moment, Maglor wasn't sure what to say. He cleared his throat. "More to the point," he said, "you don't speak Quenya. You're not going to know if it's sad or not."

"Nevermind if you're going to be weird about it," Izutsumi huffed, moving to get up.

Maglor rolled his eyes.

The song he picked was one he'd sing to Elrond and Elros, once upon a time. It was probably the happiest song he knew. It was about cool gray mornings, and sunlight, and the hope in dawn. It had been an Edain song once, he thought.

When he was done, Izutsumi was silent for a few moments. "Huh," she said finally. "Not bad, I guess."

Maglor, who was used to armies falling silent and mountains cracking at the sound of his voice, laughed. He couldn't help it. It burst out of him with all the shock and force of a whip-crack. "Such praise," he said dryly, when he could speak again.

Izutsumi shrugged, as if to say that was the most he was going to get. She got to her feet and stretched. "I'm going to get breakfast on," she said. "Finish moping soon or I'll eat it all."

It came as a shock to Maglor to realize he wasn't, anymore. He wasn't sure how he was feeling. Laughing seemed to have shooken something loose inside of his chest. He was standing in the dust of the avalanche, looking around at what was left. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he'd laughed.

"Don't worry," Maglor said, getting to his feet. "I'm coming."