#and Margim and Celeair too for that matter

[a-lonely-dunedain]

the "platonic explanation" is that I feel like shipping cheapens a perfectly good friendship and turns it into something shallow. Takes something that could have been interesting and turns it into just another dime-a-dozen romance you can find in a million other stories. Sands off anything cool or unique about the relationship and the characters so they can slot neatly into some little "A and B" dynamic. The Sunshine x Grumpy the Blue-coded x Red-coded the Cinnamon Roll x Killer. You just have to cut them down to fit in the Romance Box™.

Suddenly every interaction, every look they exchange, every word they speak, has to be seen through the lens of attraction, it HAS to be about the attraction, nothing else matters, they cannot have feelings about each other unrelated to that. If they like each other it's because they are attracted to each other, if they hate each other it's because they are attracted to each other, there can be no other reason behind their actions and feelings, nothing else about them as people matters anymore. They aren't people anymore, they aren't characters anymore, they are just "A and B".

The "platonic explanation" is that lately I've just found friendships SO much more compelling and freeing and cool, y'know? (obligatory ''I'm not bashing you if you like shipping I just Do Not Get It Personally'')

[a-lonely-dunedain]

1, 3, 4, 8, 23, 30, and/or 33 for Margim and Celeair, if any of these tickle your fancy?

ooh ok! that's a lot lol, but these look fun!

1."are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most?"

oh I color code most of my characters! once they've been around long enough they all usually get assigned one. Margim is burgundy and Celeair is silvery blue, I tend to draw them with outfits heavily featuring their respective colors.

3. "weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?"

Margim's weapon is a spiked mace, suited to brutal attacks that kill quickly and messily. She didn't exactly choose it, but it was the only thing available to her in Thorzhaf so she just had to get good at killing with it. Really good at killing with it. Celeair has no weapon, as he's a pacifist with no combat skills. As a loremaster he occasionally requires a staff, but only rarely as he doesn't need it for healing (which is most of what he does), so he doesn't usually carry one with him unless to use as a walking stick.

4. "how crafty/resourceful are they?"

as far as fighting is concerned, Margim is used to doing battle in a controlled environment, the same bridge in the same setting day in and day out, so fighting elsewhere might have taken her a little getting used to. As such she's still getting the hang of using her environment to her advantage, as she tends to fall into the habit of seeing her foe through a kind of tunnel vision and not focusing on much else. She has a very blunt and uncomplicated approach to problem solving, usually being "hit it with a mace til it stops being a problem, and if that doesn't work, ask Celeair what to do."

Now I would say Celeair is very resourceful! Between the two of them, he's usually the one with ideas (though he always values Margim's input whenever she gives it). Very 'think on his feet' kinda guy rather than 'plan every part in advance' so he's pretty adaptable even when things go awry.

8. "do they have a nickname? who gave it to them? if it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?"

well I know Margim is sometimes shortened to Mar by Elain, but there's not really much meaning behind it besides "we're friends and I shorten my friends names :>" (Margim certainly prefers it over any title she earned in Thorzhaf)

Celeair is sometimes called Cel (pronounced "Kel" bc this is still a Sindarin C) by his brother. I also feel like Elain would have a sort of nickname for him that isn't derived from his real name, maybe something that started out as a joke but kinda stuck, but nothing has jumped out at me yet.

23. "how would you describe their voice? can they sing?"

Celeair's voice is clear and gentle, and I think he can sing rather well! Margim's voice is quiet, low and almost rumbling at times. It can be a bit husky as well due to how little she speaks. I don't think she's ever tried to sing.

30. "do they smell like anything notable?"

hmm, I never gave much thought to how they would smell. I suppose Celeair would smell pretty strongly of medicinal herbs, but the exact composition can vary depending on what he's been working with. It'd range anywhere from the sweet and fresh (almost minty) smell of Athelas to bright fir needles and pungent poultices. The man basically smells like a walking herb store, which I guess makes sense considering he spends most of his time in such places.

As for Margim, first thing that came to mind was that she smells vaguely smokey? Can't think of a logical reason she would smell that way, at least post-Mordor, besides just *gestures vaguely* vibes™. Maybe smokey and spicy? (some of Celeair's herb smells rubbed off on her. from all the cuddling <3)

33. "if applicable, how would your other characters describe them? i mean specifically the people around them."

well considering Bitter Ash is written from both Celeair and Margim's PoVs, we kinda already know how they'd describe one another, so let's see what my other guys have to say about them! (they have at least met once after all)

Ethedis: likes Celeair a lot, sees him as a very capable healer with an agreeable demeanor. Instantly clocks that this dude has MAXED out his charisma stat, as it wouldn't be easy for just any Gondorian to be welcomed into Dunlanding village like this, and that he's much wiser than his easygoing exterior first lets on. Thinks he would be unstoppable if he honed his offensive Loremaster skills, but understands that hurting anyone would be against his principles. She wishes she could have gotten by on the same path, but the world demanded different things from them.

She was initially wary of Margim, as most people are upon first meeting her, but seeing the genuine trust Celeair has for Margim put her at ease somewhat. She's actually not intimidated by her at all (though she might have been if they met earlier), and is heartened to find such an unexpected and powerful ally. She's difficult for even Ethedis to read, but she got the impression that Margim holds a lot of pain in her past and that Mordor is to blame for it. She'll be the last person in Dunland they need to worry about falling under the sway of the Enemy.

Tossdir: was very wary of Margim upon first meeting and was slower to trust her than Ethedis was, mostly due to past experience with a certain Man of Mordor (*cough* Mordrambor *cough*) messing with his head that one time. I think once he's certain she's on their side and hates the forces of Mordor as much as they do, he would see her as the archetypal 'shady loner with a mysterious past' but he can tell she cares a great deal for the people of the Stag-Clan, and for this random Gondorian who's here too for some reason (he does NOT clock that they are madly in love. so oblivious it's almost embarrassing). He's curious about her past, but understands she wouldn't take kindly to him trying to pry into it, so he keeps a respectable distance. Even if they aren't friends, she's still a foe of Mordor and Isengard, and that at least, makes them allies. Still kinda wishes he knew what her whole deal was...

Speaking of Celeair, I honestly think Tossdir was too distracted by Margim to pay much mind to him in the short time they spent in Trum Dreng lmao. He's a bit odd, like Ethedis in some ways, but seemed like a nice enough guy. Tossdir couldn't say much more about him than that tho.

[a-lonely-dunedain]

75 free choice!!

#75 "hope"

ok here we go, followup to this one here wherein Celeair got electrocuted! (oops.) As an apology I humbly offer a Worried Margim, Celeair getting a hug, and things being mostly not-terrible for them <3 (besides the whole "why the f does the Dragon Clan have lightning Worms now???" issue, but that's a problem for another day)

(also warning ahead for probably medically inaccurate deceptions of what the aftermath of a lightning strike looks like I guess? whatever it was magic lightning anyway I can do what I want and say it just behaves differently from natural lightning. It’s my weird lightning Worm I make the rules.)

-------

Margim stands outside the healer’s hut beneath the roof’s overhang, which is just large enough to shield her from most of the rain. Not all of it, but that hardly matters, the storm broke when she was rushing Celeair back here and she hardly even noticed how thoroughly drenched she is, her thoughts far too occupied with whatever might be happening inside.

She desperately wanted to be in there at Celeair’s side, but more than that she did not want to risk getting in the way. As much as she hated to admit it, there wasn’t anything she could do to help. Her hands are violent things not meant for healing. She looks down and notices they are still stained deep red with the mingled blood of the raiders and that vile Worm which somehow put Celeair in this state. She killed them, and it wasn’t enough. She did the only thing she’s good for, and still failed to protect him. It is probably not possible for her to feel any more useless at the moment.

Gwen and Cianán, Lhan Tarren’s other two resident healers, said they had everything in hand, and she tries to take some comfort in that, but she could not help but notice they did not yet say that Celeair was going to be alright. It was too soon to know for certain, and she feels like the worry is eating her from the inside out.

She learns her head stiffly against the wall and stares very sharply at nothing in particular. She tries not to think about how she would feel if he dies. She tries not to think about losing the one who led her out of the darkness, losing her light, her Celeair. She tries very hard not to think about the possibility of never hearing his voice again, never holding him in her arms again, never getting the chance to marry him-

She is so occupied by all these things which she is not thinking about that she fails to notice another person standing next to her, that is until they clear their throat to get her attention, causing Margim to flinch.

“Relax Mar, it’s just me.” Elain assures with a smile, but her eyes are alight with worry.

“Oh. I did not see you there.” Margim mutters, looking away.

“I noticed, you seemed far too occupied with trying to burn a hole in the sky with your gaze... Are you alright?”

Margim does not answer. The sky rumbles again.

“...Is Celeair alright?”

“I do not know.” she says quietly, her voice betraying some helplessness she would have rather remained hidden.

“What happened to him? Er, if it’s even alright to ask,” Elain hastily adds, rubbing the back of her neck. She didn’t want to pry, but she couldn’t help but be concerned by all the commotion earlier when Margim returned with an unconscious Celeair and scarcely said a word to anyone before rushing into the healer’s hut. Strangely, no one had to fetch Gwen, as she was already there seemingly expecting them. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it-”

“Would that I knew what befell him! Truthfully I am nearly as much in the dark as you are.” She thinks to stop there, but Elain is still looking at her. Margim gives a resigned sigh. Really, by now she should know better than to give Elain vague answers, it only makes her more curious.

“He had been attacked by a Worm of a breed I have never seen before. Well I say attacked, for he was unresponsive when I got to him, but he bore no visible injuries, not so much as a scratch... though he seemed to be in a great deal of pain nonetheless.” She almost winces at the memory “As I carried him back here I noticed strange red marks beginning to appear all along his arms, blistering in places as if they were burns, but they had a distinct branching pattern unlike any burn I have ever seen. They reminded me of the branches of trees, or frost forming over water.”

“Could it be some sort of poison then?”

Margim shakes her head, “Possibly, but I know not how. Cianán seemed to recognize what it was, but his reaction... did not fill me with confidence.” To his credit, Cianán mastered his shock quickly after he saw the marks on Celeair, but it was there nonetheless, and when a seasoned healer reacts in such a way it is never a good sign. “Regardless, there is nothing more I can do...”

“Do not be so hard on yourself,” Elain puts a comforting hand on her shoulder, “you’ve already done a great deal just by getting him back here and to the people who best know how to help him.”

“I did everything I could, and yet it might not be enough,” she remarks bitterly.

“But it just as easily could be enough. It is too early to lose hope.”

Margim is silent for a long moment “...I can only hope that you’re right.”

The rain seems to be coming down a little harder, the roof’s small overhang now does little to shield them from it.

“I appreciate the company Elain, truly, but you do not have to stay out here.”

Elain scoffs “And leave you to sulk in the rain all on your lonesome? What sort of friend would I be if I let that happen?”

“One who will not catch her death of cold.” She says plainly. Elain laughs, but stays put at Margim’s side. And so the two of them sulk there in silence for a while getting half-drenched by the rain.

Some have said that it was strange for the two of them to have befriended one another. Elain’s boisterousness and natural curiosity should have found little in common with the grim and quiet Margim, and yet the two are piratically inseparable. Elain found her intriguing, and Margim found that she is drawn to people who are very much unlike her. So despite the fact that she would rather Elain be dry at home, Margim finds herself glad for the company; it at least makes it a little harder to think about how worried she is.

It is a while still before Gwen, a young woman with stark white hair and large pale eyes, pokes her head out of the door, “Margim-” she starts,

“Did something happen? Is Celeair alright?”

“It is good news, don’t worry.” She assures is her usual small voice, it is a little hard to hear her over the rain, “we’re now certain he will recover. He has not woken up just yet, but likely will soon, you should come inside.”

-------------------------------------------------

There is a sudden crack of thunder and Celeair awakes with a start, sitting up despite his body screaming in protest, chest tight and breathing in shallow rapid heaves. Where is the great black Worm? His eyes dart around the room frantically for it, expecting it to crawl out from any shadow. He heard it, must be here. He finds only cots and healing supplies, a crackling firepit, and the sound of rain pattering outside. His head is spinning too much to recall how he got here, all he knows is that he was about to be eaten by that terrible creature- But then a strong arm wraps around his shoulders, steadying him.

“Easy, you’re alright,” Margim’s voice washes over him like cold water, suddenly bringing him back to his senses. That’s right, she came for him in time. He collapses into her arms out of equal parts exhaustion and relief, his face buried in her soft fur mantle. It’s still damp from the rain, but he’s hardly inclined to care. If she is here then the Worm must be dead, and the raiders too. He’s safe.

“By the stars am I glad to see you...” he mumbles into her shoulder.

Margim says nothing, just quietly holding him for a little bit before gently lowering him back onto the cot. Her arm still remains behind him supporting his head, and her other hand gently laid over his chest as to still keep him in a half-embrace while she sits beside him.

“It is good to see you awake,” he hears Gwen say from somewhere nearby “how are you feeling?”

He takes a deep breath and says weakly "Everything hurts," quite an understatement "but I’m alive." As a healer it always feels strange to be on the other side of this exchange.

“You gave us quite a fright, my friend...”

“Well, it was not for nothing-” Celeair slowly props himself up to better see. He winces as his arms greatly protest the effort, stinging with a hundred needles at every movement, but he persists nonetheless. “I think my satchel is over there, could you open it for me?” Gwen does so, and from it retrieves a bundle of pungent green leaves with white tips.

“Cloudwort!” she exclaims “We feared it was too early in the season for it, but you actually managed to find some!”

Celeair manages a half-chuckle, a triumphant look on his face “And it only almost cost me my life! I do hope it’s enough...”

“I think it will be,” she assures “we only need a small amount for the antidote. I must bring this to Cianán right away.”

“Would that I could help you administer it...”

“You’ve done more than enough already by finding this, just rest for now.” she looks at Margim “Do make sure he actually stays down, would you?” Margim nods. Celeair suspects that she will not let him out of her sight for the foreseeable future, and finds he is not at all bothered by the prospect.

As Gwen leaves Celeair lets his head flop back down, his strength utterly spent.

Every inch of his body aches as though he ran across the entirety of Dunland. Twice. It is a wonder he is still alive, he thinks, but decides it might be best not to say such out loud, as Margim is clearly worried enough as it is. She does not show it openly, but he’s developed an eye for such things.

For one thing, she hasn’t said more than three words this entire time, which is quiet even for her. And despite the fact that she is normally very reserved with physical affection, she has been unable to take her arms off of him, so those are some good indicators.

With great effort he moves his hand to hers where it lays on his chest, gently entwining their fingers. It hurts greatly to put any pressure on his hands right now, but this, he decides, is more important.

“I killed the Worm that attacked you,” Margim says after some time, “but I... still do not understand exactly what it did to you.”

Celeair simply looks at the ceiling, truthfully he’s unsure of exactly what happened himself, and even less sure of how to describe it “I think...” he eventually says “I was struck by lightning. I know not how, but that Worm was imbued with the power of storms, and shot lightning from its mouth. No doubt some new sorcery devised by the Wizard...”

“I thought I heard thunder as I fought off the raiders, but I assumed it was from the encroaching storm...” She says in quiet amazement, “If Saruman has granted such power to the Driag-Lûth then things are about to become much more dire for us.”

“You slew this one, and I’ve no doubt you can slay the rest.” he manages a smile “That is, assuming there are any more of them to begin with, it might have been the only one of its kind.” He tries to remain optimistic, but he knows it’s a slim chance. If that was truly the only such Worm in existence, it would be in the keeping their leader or someone else of high standing in the clan, not a small raiding party harassing the remote reaches of Trum Dreng.

Despite this, Celeair prays that there are no more of these creatures, because if there are, he is going to have to master the complex art of lightning channeling very quickly. He looks down at the fractal burns along his arms, a clear mark that he has much still to learn, and no one to teach him.

“I hope so...” Margim mutters, understanding just as well as he does how unlikely it is “but we cannot assume, lest it be our undoing. If we are lucky, perhaps Gwen will be able to warn us about it...” But the Stag-Clan has never been particularly lucky, in fact one could easily argue that they have been the unluckiest clan in all of Dunland. Yet, they also have a history of finding help unlooked for in their darkest hours, bringing them back from the edge of destruction numerous times in the past, so despite being the weakest and smallest of the clans they persist still. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say they are simultaneously the unluckiest and the luckiest clan in Dunland. It has been hard, but they are still here, which is more than could be said of some others.

Celeair breathes a humorless laugh “It would be funny, were it not so unfortunate. I risk life and limb to retrieve an antidote for the Dragon-Clan’s poison, only to find this new horror in the process...” He cannot help but wonder how likely it is that, if and when he becomes proficient in lightning channeling, the moment he does so the forces of Isengard will suddenly unveil another, more terrible weapon to turn upon the people of Trum Dreng. ‘One thing drives out another’, as someone Celeair does not know famously said at some point.

"Whatever happens next, we will endure." Margim says quietly

"Of course we will," he smiles softly "we always do."

He decides tomorrow's worries can wait until tomorrow. For now, he must simply be grateful that he is alive and Margim is here at his side, for so long as that remains true he cannot lose hope. He turns his head to rest against Margim's arm and finally closes his eyes, content and secure. Sleep takes him soon after.

[a-lonely-dunedain]

6, 11, 13 + Celeair!

6: Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

it almost seems like too obvious of a choice to say Margim, but hey he's his wife's #1 fan! But it's not necessarily that he'll just follow everything she says without question, so much as that Margim is generally quite reserved and usually won't give her opinions unprompted, so when she actually does do that he knows it's probably really important.

now the 2nd part of that question is a tough one... Celeair is a generally very open-minded guy, with very few if any non-hostile people he dislikes enough to blindly reject everything they have to say. I really can't think of anyone off the top of my head and I don't wanna spend hours agonizing about this... but I bet someone will present themselves eventually! just need a bit more development on that front I guess. it's very hard to make an enemy out of Celeair

11: They’ve won the lottery! Spend, or save?

the secret 3rd thing! save a chuck of it for a rainy day, buy Margim a bunch of nice things, and give the rest away (both he and Margim would be in agreement on that). he can't conceive of anything else he would ever even want to spend that much money on, and I think just Having It Around would make Margim nervous as she feels it would paint a target on their backs for raiders. who needs all that anyway? they're quite happy without life-altering wealth thank you very much

13: Name one thing their parents taught them.

I think I mentioned this once in Bitter Ash, but his mother (a blue cappy, but I don't plan on making her a PC) taught him the basics of the healing arts. (and I just remembered I know absolutely nothing about his father. I don't even know if he's alive or dead lol, I need to figure that one out huh!)