[Video]

[seawanderer]

[This particular elf has never before made an announcement over this system. Responded to it, yes. Gone to hunt down whoever has been on it, yes. But never started it himself. Until today.]

If anyone is in need of help sleeping, I am willing to lend my music. This past month has been difficult, especially, and with this most recent of missions, I know some might need a bit extra to find rest.

And if it is not sleep you wish, but a spar, I can provide that as well.

Comments

[seawanderer]

[He's not stopping! Not unless he has to for some reason. Which. When she offers him candy has the music trail off in surprise as he struggles to process the leaps they've somehow made since that first disastrous meeting.

But then there's an almost shy little smile that forms and he ducks his head a little in thanks before accepting a piece.]

Thank you.

...Come. I believe there might still be part of an almond tart my father made the other day.

[kumoko]

[ .............. 'favourite elf' is a constantly changing ranked scoreboard in her head, but he might just have slammed himself firmly into the top spot. ]

'In the kitchen???'

[seawanderer]

[He's honored...?

Maglor gently stills the strings of his harp and stands, tucking it under an arm.]

Yes. Father makes the best tarts. [Pride!]

[kumoko]

[ HEY. HEY GUESS WHAT.

~SPARKLING MAGICAL PORTAL~

THEY'RE IN THE KITCHEN NOW. ]

[seawanderer]

[THAT IS NOT A SQUEAK

HE WILL DENY IT

HE WILL ALSO DENY THE MINOR HEART ATTACK IT GIVES HIM

Maglor shakes his head to try and reorient himself, breathing slowly, but then he shakes his head again, this time trying for a wry little smile. Eager child is what this spider is, and he can't help but see it clearly now. So he moves to where he knows his father tends to keep the tarts and what-not, and cuts two generous slices.

He sets her slice down where she can easily get at it, then takes his slice and a fork to the table to sit.]

[kumoko]

[ There's a lot of excited scuttling and clicking as he reorients himself - his panic goes almost unnoticed in her anticipation - and more when he cuts them their slices, but she maintains a patient distance. She also makes a quiet note of where the desserts are stored, because generally she's not brave enough to outright ask Fëanor for any of his baking. ]

'Thanks for the meal!'

[ With the text draped over the table beside his plate, she's ready to enjoy. First, look at the dessert, appreciate it from every angle. Then smell it. Touch it a little. Cut a corner and listen to the crisp sound of scythe blade through pastry. And then... daintily eat the dessert, piece by piece. ]