[Voice]

[seawanderer]

[ There's a new voice over the comm devices today, one that clearly belongs to a singer thanks to the odd lilt to certain notes. ]

Please forgive the interruption...Has anyone experienced something new happen to their bodies as of today?

Specifically....has anyone lain eggs courtesy of the last few days?


[ A longer pause, and he makes an attempt to make this bit private to one Thranduil, Elven King. And he sounds both resigned and bemused. ]

Thranduil, there are some things here that may interest you. No, I will not bring them to you, you will have to come here.

Comments

{Private Voice}

[seawanderer]

[ He knows better than to accuse Thranduil of neglect. ]

My apartment. The door will open for you. [ And only Thranduil. ]

{Private Voice} -> {Action}

[tauraran]

{So this isn't a jest. He wishes it were. Maglor.}

I will be with you shortly.

{He ends the feed and walks to said apartment, letting himself inside without knocking.}

Is it common for your line to lay eggs? {No, he isn't serious, but his tone is flat.}

{Action}

[seawanderer]

[ So does he :|

Getting the promise, he settles in to wait, checking attentively on his 'children'.

Hearing the other elf come in, and the sarcastic question - no, he's not falling for it! he snorts quietly and carefully makes space for Thranduil to sit with him. Two eggs lay before him, one silver, while the other is a pale blue. ]

Would you rather be left ignorant?

{Action}

[tauraran]

{The eggs draw him as only things of beauty can and he sits by Maglor without making a single fuss. His fingertips trace over the shells and he tries to gain some sense of what could be inside. Dragons? Elves? Some strange combination of both?}

And you are certain I am the...father?

[seawanderer]

[ It's difficult for him to look away from them too. And he doesn't fuss when Thranduil touches his eggs, which just confirms it for him, really. ]

You are the only one I have been with here thus far. And I don't feel the need to protect them from you.

[tauraran]

{He glances at Maglor quizzically, yet something settles within him too. The eggs feel like theirs and he would be allowing himself a delusion if he said otherwise.}

Was it painful? {To lay them? Thranduil looks over the other Elf for signs of blood.} Our bodies are not made for laying eggs.