“Seriously, have you nothing better to do with your time?” Maglor didn’t quite snap, but his tone showed the displeasure he was feeling.
“No, not really.” Daeron said, obviously unconcerned about Maglor’s wishes. Maglor put all of his frustration in his next throw, and as a result the little stone went far in the water, but sank immediately.
“Well, then find something better to do!” This time, Maglor did snap.
“No.” Daeron said, not at all bothered by the hostile tone. He sat with his legs crossed down at the sand, in a pair of dirty shorts and a horrid bright-green shirt.
Maglor sighed. “You should leave.” He said finally. Daeron opened his mouth to retort for the third time that he had nothing better to do, but Maglor beat him to it. “Go home.”
“Home where?” Daeron questioned. The last home he had known was Doriath, and this had been destroyed not once but twice; with help from the elf standing in front of him barefoot, throwing stones in the water.
“Across the sea.” Maglor answered. “Beyond the world. To Valinor.” He stood still as he said it, looking away at the horizon in… longing? Grief? Daeron couldn’t place the exact sentiment.
“It’s not my home.” Daeron replied plainly. He hadn’t meant for the words “you ruined my home” to float in the air after it, but it was clear from Maglor’s wince that they did. “What about you?” Daeron asked.
“I can’t go home. No one wants me home.” Maglor said with a bittersweet smile, his eyes still glued far away.
“Stop doing that.” Daeron demanded, almost able to feel the waves of pain, grief and longing that rolled off Maglor.
“Doing what?” Maglor asked, finally taking his eyes off the horizon line and settling them on Daeron.
“Breaking my heart in two sentences.”
Maglor scoffed. “I don’t see why your heart should break for me.” Daeron opened his mouth to protest, and explain that it was very hard for anyone’s heart not to break when Maglor was sitting there, throwing painful poetic one-liners and starring dramatically off into the sunset. But Maglor, once again, cut him off before he even started. “My apologies.” He sounded sincere.
Daeron shook his head, willing the sadness and self-pity to leave. “You need a coffee.” He declared at his companion with confidence.
“We’re three miles away from civilization.” Maglor pointed out.
“You still need a coffee.” Daeron insisted and got up. “And if we’re really three miles away from civilization, then you better start walking.”
