#not coming through his nose and ears but more as the call of Osanwe
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"- is two hours straight of polka music. KEOW has been broadcasting since the cities burned, do you really think you're the strongest to try and stop me? Remember listeners, song requests written on firewood or tied to packages of food will be honored to the best of my music library's ability. Verbal complaints will be ignored. Every shot fired at the radio tower increases the polka by one hour, unless I feel like Baby Shark instead."
A beaten car drives up a beaten road at the end of a long day. Static on the radio. It’s been that way for years. The road crests and the view expands. Suddenly, the static clears: “-his is KEOW FM Radio! Your only active station after the fall of civilization, coming to you live. Up next-”
#silm#my fic#tagfic totally unrelated to post body#thinking about this and late Beleriand#elves can sense magic and also I think fresh water and general good nature#Maglor and Maedhros are going through the wilderness - no destination but staying in one place for too long attracts orcs#Maglor snaps his head up first; in tune with Song as he is#''do you feel it? there is a note of uncorrupted Song''#Maedhros doesn't at first but one direction is as good as the next#by the time he's gone a mile he can catch traces of it though#the scent of fresh water and the sound of wind across a grassy plain#not coming through his nose and ears but more as the call of Osanwe#he tromps between charred tree trunks and feels clean earth under his fingers#he stops to pour gravel out of his shoe and sees a brief vision of wildflowers#Maglor and Maedhros are drawn to the first note of beauty and peace they've found in years#and they only notice the vast army accompanying the Valar when they're practically on top of the perimeter guards#they back track but still stay near enough to get that sense of health that surrounds Vana and Yavanna and Ulmo and Orome working together
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