Maglor in the 1848 French Revolution by Aprilertuile

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November 1847

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With Louis being an apprentice to a medical doctor, finding an apartment was far easier. Maglor and Louis didn’t have much to move either, their previous apartment having been on the small side.

Maglor was long used to travelling light: he lived out of a backpack most of the time and changed his clothing for newer ones when the old ones weren’t fitting to the climates or were becoming odd to see on someone. Fashion tended to shift fast among mortals, much to his annoyance at times. When he could he sold his still usable but out of fashion clothing, or repurposed it. He had lost long ago any attachment to any material possession outside of his harp and a finely crafted dagger.

Louis himself had been left with only a couple of bags worth of belongings before Maglor and him shared a living space. Clothing mainly, and school books and notes. He had more clothing than Maglor, and kept a few things of his parents: his father’s bible, and his mother’s ring.

So moving had been easy and fast. The new apartment was again just under the roof, but it had more space: two bedrooms and a real kitchen space, and it was at least better insulated. It was the advantage of a newer building.

Living with Louis was however becoming an exercise in patience:

For one, since they moved, Joséphine was there so often that Maglor was starting to wonder whether or not to ask her to pay rent. Alas the girl didn’t become more stable emotionally as her pregnancy advanced. To the contrary, she seemed to get worse.

And for a second, Louis seemed to alternate between flirting with Maglor, raging about something while ignoring Maglor, and speaking of Joséphine in a way that made Maglor think he should probably expect a wedding invitation sooner or later for duty’s sake.

He could understand duty. Particularly if it was for the sake of a child.

That’s the reason why he never pressed Louis, and never tried to tell Joséphine to take a hike, even in the uncomfortable moments when Maglor was alone at home with his harp and the pregnant and moody girl.

Maglor was playing music in public less and less, trying to fill most of his working hours doing tasks here and there for various shops and other businesses.

The people out there were grumbling louder and louder and Maglor feared seeing a protest movement start under his nose. He’d feel guilty at the result whatever happened. At least working for someone else took him away from the streets most of the time.

Not that washing tables, or cutting wood, or working on a construction site, or bearing messages was fun, but at least it gave him a chance to avoid being accidentally caught in a protest.

But that, in turn, made him crankier than he usually was, which amused Louis to no end. As the young man said, Maglor was “living a love story with his harp, but leaving it a few hours every day wouldn’t kill him, honest”.

And while Maglor didn’t mind Louis’ teasing, the whole situation felt like he was just waiting for disaster to strike. Any other time, he’d have already left the city for safety’s sake because he wasn’t, contrary to some people’s claims, insane, and he wanted no part in what was coming.

Alas, this time he found himself attached to someone who very much wanted to stay, and wanted even more to get involved.

At least he wasn’t alone in his efforts to stop him.

Louis was out working, and Maglor was in the house, coming back from work when he found Joséphine crying on their couch.

Maglor was starting to seriously resent Louis’ guilty conscience that made him give Joséphine a key to their apartment. He knew that if he raised the subject, he could probably ensure the girl would never step foot in there again, so he carefully said nothing at all on the matter, but the last thing he wanted was to see her or talk to her.

“Did you hear?” She asked before he could consider leaving again.

“Hear what?” Maglor sighed coming in fully and closing the door behind him.

“The city will stop the bread distribution.”

“Bread is more readily available these days. Maglor shrugged.

“But what if…”

“Look, you can’t fail to have noticed that bread is more easily available from many bakeries and taverns and we can find what we need again in shops and markets to make our own. There’s no point for the city council to keep the distribution going.”

“But what if it disappears again?”

“Then we’ll do what we need to survive.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then talk to Louis or Ismérie.”

“Louis doesn’t care and Ismérie thinks that more people will buy from her if the government stops the distribution, so she doesn’t understand either why I’m worried.”

Maglor rolled his eyes at that. Poor misunderstood innocent victim of a girl. He’ll pity her. When he’ll have time. One day. Perhaps.

“Did you want something apart from that, Miss Joséphine?”

“Could you do that thing you did with eggs last time? I… I really crave that. Please? Or perhaps you’d agree to share the recipe?”

Maglor’s eye twitched at that. What was he? Her servant?

He sighed and hesitated but seeing that it’d give him a respite from the still crying girl, he went to the kitchen. She was really too thin to say she was pregnant, it couldn’t really be healthy for her or the baby so if his omelette recipe encouraged her to eat… Louis would probably appreciate it.

He checked what they had and sighed. That was bad luck:

“I’m afraid I can’t. We don’t have the ingredients, and not the means to get more before next week.”

Joséphine started to cry harder:

“YOU SEE?! YOU SEE?! That’s why I’m worried! We don’t have the means to get food as we want, and the government will stop helping with the most basic food!”

Maglor looked at her with the vague will to jump out a window there. No he didn’t actually see, nor did he understand her tears. The government helped with bread but bread was now more readily available. As for the eggs, the government never helped with that, and it’s not like his cooking was that good that she couldn’t do better on her own, and she lived and worked in a tavern…

“Why did you come today, miss Joséphine?”

“I… I was sick. I felt weak and everything was swimming, and I felt like everything was so distant, I almost fainted serving the tables so Ismérie sent me here.”

Maglor frowned and took her wrist in hand, making her gasp in shock, not that he cared. He felt her pulse was erratic even now when she was sitting and… There was something… Abnormal that he couldn’t put a finger on.

“When Louis comes, ask him to check your health.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure. Speak to Louis.”

“Speak to Louis, speak to Louis, can you say anything else to me than “speak to Louis”?” She snarled, clearly annoyed, tears still falling on her face.

“Well, considering I’m not your friend, nor your parent, that I tolerate you in my home, even in the absence of the one you’re really trying to seduce, that I’ve passed you a good number of things until now, one would think that propriety if nothing else, would push you to at least make an effort to stay courteous.”

She lowered her head like a berated child.

“I just… You always do that. It’s like you don’t care.”

“That’s because I actually don’t.”

The deadpan delivery had her sniffle and cry. Again.

Maglor sighed.

“Look, I’m not a doctor. I know some things, but that’s no replacement for actual medical studies. You want a diagnostic, you speak to Louis.”

“Why did you touch my wrist then?”

“Because even my poor skills could detect if you were being a comedian or if something was really going on.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I noticed that much, yes. Which is why I told you to speak to Louis.”

She looked like she didn’t know how to react to that.

“Do you think… That I’m really sick? Perhaps it’s the child. It must be it. That child has been like a bad luck charm. Since it got in my belly my life has been gotten from bad to worse. If I get rid of it…”

“I would suggest strongly that you measure your words and reassess the situation.”

“What do you mean?”

“The child isn’t responsible for your misfortunes. Your own behaviour was. What, you thought your father, a well known wealthy man who needs his good reputation to continue his business and so his fortune, would allow you to tarnish said reputation by being an unmarried mother? One who fell pregnant from a poor orphan without a good name at that? Are you really, honestly that dense? Anyone with half a brain could have told you that if your father learnt you slept with Louis he’d either disown you or marry you to someone whether or not you liked it! The moment you fell pregnant your fate was sealed!”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen! I could do everything before! He always, always protected me!” She cried.

“So you were a spoiled irresponsible child put in front of your responsibilities for the first time, congratulation on seeing the meaning of consequences finally.”

“You’re cruel.”

“Yes, I can be.”

The “so don’t push me” that Maglor held back was nevertheless understood for Joséphine fell silent, watching Maglor get busy in the room.

When Louis was late coming home, Maglor offered to make food for Joséphine, and Louis when he’d come back. She looked at him with distrust but nodded.

Maglor was in the middle of making stew when the front door opened on Louis who looked tired when he saw Joséphine, and went straight to the kitchen, without actually talking to her past a rather hurried greeting.

“Mag… Max, what is she doing here?”

“You need to check her health.”

“What? She looks fine.”

“No, Louis. Seriously, there’s something wrong going on. Check her health. It’s important, trust me.” Maglor whispered to him.

Louis bit his lips at that:

“Something you could do nothing for I guess, since you’re asking me?”

“I can’t even diagnose what it is. All I know is that her song is wrong. I’m not a healer and you know that.”

“Her song?”

“Her… How to explain… Everyone has a presence. I work with songs, Louis, that’s why I’m a minstrel in the first place. What I perceive of this presence, it’s like a song, a song unique to every person. And hers has gotten… Twisted. Wrong. It’s not… I don’t heal people, Louis. I just encourage people’s body to fight harder against their illnesses, people’s song to strengthen. And I’m not actually sure I can do that for your girl.”

Louis bit his lips but stole a quick kiss from Maglor and left the kitchen again.

Maglor touched his lips with a small smile. Today was a good day for Louis then.

Maglor stayed in the kitchen until the food was ready, almost an hour later. He put three bowls on a tray and filled the bowls with stew, added a piece of bread for each of them and went to the living-room where Joséphine was crying, still or again perhaps, and Louis looked sombre.

“Come and eat, lady and gentleman.”

“I have a heart problem.” Joséphine cried at him.

Maglor just looked at her with a raised eyebrow. He was supposed to care because…?

“Right. Care to elaborate?”

“My mother had a heart problem, and she died. And Louis said I have the same heart problem!”

“I said it sounded like you might have the same.” Louis corrected.

“I’m going to die!” Joséphine cried, hiding her face in her hands.

“Louis?”

“That’s… Very probable yes. The pregnancy didn’t help to be fair. It’s a strain on her body and…”

“See? I told you! That child is a bad luck charm! Without it I’d have been fine. It’s all its fault. And without it…”

“Without it your father would have married you to the first man with power who offered him a good price for you, and you’d have been forced to carry a child for a man you may or may not have loved at all, hence ending in the exact same situation.” Maglor corrected coldly, making her freeze in shock and shake her head.

“No. No, father wouldn’t have…”

“Oh? Did your father teach you how to take care of his business?”

“Of course not, I’m his daughter, not his son.”

“Yes, precisely. His daughter. Meaning someone he was going to marry off in exchange for all the advantages he could get out of it for his own social good. You were a tool, and the proof of that is that when it became clear that he would never find you a good match due to your very much undesirable pregnancy, he just got rid of you. So yes, your father would have.”

Joséphine was sobbing at that and Louis looked like he was developing a headache.

“You’re such a cruel man. I. I don’t know why Louis likes you.” She cried.

“I’m only cruel because you place the blame for your own stupidity on your unborn child. Learn to be at least a good mother and I’ll stop being cruel. Keep talking of blaming the child or getting rid of it, and you’ll see I can become even worse. Am I clear?”

“Why didn’t you bear it if you want that idiot child that much?”

“Are you that ignorant that you don’t know how biology works? Perhaps you should keep money to go back to school at some point to get up to date on some basic life knowledge. It’ll probably save you another unwanted pregnancy the next time you decide to take a lover.”

“I hate you.”

Maglor’s answering smile said it was more than a little mutual there.

“Max, can you please, please, just ignore her? Please. For me.”

Maglor sighed at that and put the food on the table between them.

“Food’s ready and available. And I suggest that the pregnant woman who was so afraid of shortage just an hour ago eats her food.”

“You’re heartless. How can I eat?”

Maglor looked pointedly at Louis, but didn’t answer the girl. He had better to do with his time. Louis coaxed Joséphine to eat, and Maglor let her steal his own piece of bread. He didn’t care much. He still had his bowl of stew, and he was busy thinking of options.

He couldn’t straight up heal her, it wasn’t something out of her body that attacked her, but something from inside that went wrong, so bolstering her body might also aggravate the issue. He needed to think on that. He was pretty sure there was something he could help so she’d have at least a few years with her child despite her own belief of her impending doom.

Halfway through his bowl of stew, Maglor started humming tentatively; he might have an idea, and went to take up his harp. He needed the support of his music for that kind of work. It required a delicate touch that… might be more the alley of a healer than his own.

Elrond would have been the perfect person to send her to for help if he hadn’t sailed so long ago.

In any case, he tried a few notes before playing a melody. He was careful to keep his attention on Joséphine’s presence, just to make sure he wasn’t going to kill her accidentally.

He didn’t exactly notice when Joséphine asked Louis what Maglor was doing, but he did hear the answer: “Oh you know he’s a minstrel, they’re like that when inspiration strikes.”

Maglor resisted the will to play a wrong note or two to teach them a lesson, but as he was busy trying to give strength to Joséphine if he did he might not control the result so…

Besides, he was playing the harp, it was very hard to make ear piercing sounds at the harp. It really wasn’t worth it.

Finally he stopped playing, and went to get a notebook to jot his idea down there.

What he did was lay a foundation, give her a bit of strength so she would feel less faint in the next few hours, but he’d need to work more on his tentative idea in order to perhaps get a more permanent or at least a longer lasting effect.

It’s only when he went to pick up his glass of wine that he noticed he hadn’t actually finished eating. Louis, seeing his attention was back with them, smirked at him:

“You know, I’m pretty sure children these days learn to not leave the table so long their plates aren’t empty.”

“It’s stew, it won’t be spoiled.” Maglor shrugged.

“Is there… Is there any left-over I could have please? I’m… Still hungry.”

“Hm… Not much left in the kitchen I’m afraid.”

“I’m just hungry. I’m always hungry these days. I’m eating for two.”

Maglor rolled his eyes but refused to answer. She would do whatever she wanted unless Louis put a stop to her behaviour anyway, and he was tired of being the villain of her personal story. He must have heard about his cruelty more often from her lips than during the entire First Age at this point!

Talk about ridiculous.

“Do you mind if I…?”

She pointed at Maglor’s abandoned plate and he snorted.

“I’m not about to get back to the table so do whatever you want.”

She stole the bowl he abandoned and she finished it, while Maglor went back to his notes.

“There’s also a bit more bread in the kitchen if you want.”

Louis raised an eyebrow at Maglor at that. But really, he wasn’t about to prevent a pregnant woman from eating, more so a sick pregnant woman. She needed her strength, and he wasn’t that much of a monster yet, no matter how aggravating he found the girl.

And she really was aggravating.

Louis invited Joséphine to stay the night, just in case she felt faint later, and Maglor glared at him for that. When she retired for the night, Louis turned toward Maglor:

“We can hardly throw her out of the door. She’s heavily pregnant and sick.”

“She’s your problem.”

“You left her your food.”

“I’m not quite as much at risk of fainting for lack of sustenance as she could be, it doesn’t mean I want to babysit her. When I left her that place at Ismérie’s tavern, it was with the understanding that she became Ismérie’s problem, not mine.”

“… Consider she’s my problem?” Louis offered tentatively.

“Which would be perfect, if we didn’t live together so your problems are my problems and vice-versa.”

Louis smiled a bit sheepishly at that.

“It’ll get better. When she delivers her baby and all is fine, she’ll be back to her usual self, you’ll see.”

Maglor raised an eyebrow at that. That was all well and good, but it was supposing that Maglor liked the girl when she was her “usual self” in the first place.

Louis pulled Maglor to the elf’s own room, as Joséphine had borrowed Louis’ room, and they both got ready for the night and got in the bed.

“If she bothers me in the morning, I’m blaming you. For the record.” Maglor warned Louis.

“Of course.”

Once upon a time, Maglor claiming he’d blame someone for something had an actual effect. He was starting to miss this. It was fear of him and his deeds, sure, but still… He wasn’t outright dismissed!

It was still night outside when Maglor woke, startled with the distinct feeling that something was going to happen. Not something that should happen at this time of the night.

He sat up, waking Louis who turned toward him with the expression of someone who didn’t understand why he was even awake and who’d rather be asleep for the next, oh, three days.

“Mags?”

Maglor rose out of the bed:

“Go back to sleep, I’ll stay awake for a moment I think.”

“Ok, what’s wrong?”

“… I’m not sure. I’m not even sure something is wrong. Go back to sleep, you have a long day tomorrow.”

“I have long days every day, and you wouldn’t be up like that if there was nothing.”

“Just a persistent feeling, nothing more. Go to sleep. Until we know what it is or if there’s even something at all, there’s no point in the both of us staying up.”

Louis turned over to go back to sleep. Maglor smiled seeing him, and left the room. Bad feelings were too insistent for him to rest, and he would disturb Louis if he stayed there.

Maglor went to settle in the living room alone with his harp and notebook, and started playing mindlessly, just enjoying the quiet of the night, waiting.

He was pretty sure nothing bad would happen… in theory.

He hoped.

Last time something bothered him like that, Rome caught on fire. It had been a fun few days where he’d had to leave in a hurry and did the stupid thing to help evacuate those he could somehow. That was one of the times he’s had to rebuild a harp.

His own had been a poor victim of the fire. Like about everything else he had owned at the time, but that was true for most of the city so…

Now Maglor hoped it didn’t mean that Paris was about to catch fire.

Just the idea of having to deal with a pregnant Joséphine if they had to evacuate Paris was enough to make him want to stay and burn…