Gold-cleaver by chrissystriped

Gold-cleaver

Maglor hummed as he cleaned his worktable. His brothers would probably laugh at him, if they could see him working as a gold-smith. He’d been taught by their father, like all of them, but his interests had always been elsewhere. He massaged his palm. Even after millennia, his scarred hands still hurt, it was impossible for him to play his harp the same way he used to and that broke his heart. Not, that he didn’t think it was a just punishment for his crimes.

He’d wandered the shores, lost to the world, but the world had changed around him, until it was impossible to remain undetected. Men had noticed him, he hadn’t felt safe anymore, he’d had to return to civilisation — a civilisation that had changed so much he had to learn a lot of things, including making a living.

Even his skill, so inferior to what his father and some of his brothers had been able to do, was outstanding among Men. It felt a bit like cheating, but the old valinorean designs he made in his workshop on the outskirts of the town, had become a bit of an insiders’ tip. He’d started it as a way of earning money, but now, as he found himself humming without silently critiquing his performace, just for the joy of it, he realised he was happy making art — even if it was not perfect.

Chapter End Notes

Written during the 20 August 2022 instadrabbling session on the SWG discord server. For this picture prompt: