Careless

"What's that song you're humming, Mark?"

He was going by Andrew now, but when he'd met George, he was using the alias Mark Lauer. George had gotten really drunk one night and called him "Andy" by accident, so since their band made it big, Maglor decided to publicly go with Andrew, or Andy, as a piss take at George.

"Oh, it's nothing." Maglor looked away, cheeks burning. He had just been humming without thinking about it, or maybe their friendship was close enough that George could hear him broadcasting the song in his head and thought it was being hummed aloud. Either way, it was intensely private. It was his Song of songs... the Noldolantë.

George narrowed his eyes. "It's not nothing, mate. I liked it. Hum it some more? Or, if it's got words, sing it for me?"

Maglor frowned. He hadn't told George yet what he was - he might not ever reveal that information. As it was, he was taking a risk with a public music career. Being the other guy of Wham gave him a chance to make music and perform for a crowd, while still being able to blend in with George Michael's star power. The Noldolantë was so bound up in who and what he was that it felt dangerously close to outing himself to share any of it.

But George wasn't going to let it go, and he didn't want problems with his best friend. "That was, uh, the instrumental I was humming." Which Maglor had played many times on the harp and the flute in ancient days, and the piano more recently.

"I see. That would sound good with, I dunno, a sax, maybe."

Maglor cleared his throat, took some breaths, and quickly made a rough mental translation of the chorus from Quenya into English.

I'm never going home again
The Song, the Song, has lost its rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend
I know I was a fool.
I've got no lovers and I've got no friends
The wasted chance that I was given
I'm never going home again
And I'm missing all of you-ou-ou...

George sighed.

"You don't like it."

"Oh no, it's... it's a lovely melody, it's just so fucking sad. Sadder than that country music the Yanks like." George stroked his chin and sat back, pondering. "We could use that, though." George shook his finger. "Make it a song about a relationship. Fucking it up. Being careless."

"Careless," Maglor repeated. If his life could be summed up in one word, that would be it.

George nodded. "Careless. Careless... Whisper. Yeah, I think we should hit the studio, and I'll hire a sax player. How about that?"

Maglor wasn't going to say no. On the one hand, it was sad that he couldn't share the truth of the Noldolantë - the song, the story of his people - with the world. This was as close to it as he would get. But it was better than nothing.

"It'll be real sexy," George added.

The tragedy of his people was the opposite of sexy, but again, Maglor wasn't going to complain. He got up and followed George outside.

SemperViridis and I were having a conversation:

SV: You know … what if “Careless Whisper” is something that Maglor composed? A practice piece, when he was young (probably intended to troll his multiple polyamorous family members)? And someday … thousands of years in the future … he has a fling with George Michael, who hears him idly humming the tune one day.

(I mean, some version of him has fucked other rock stars in one AU or another.)

Me: What if George Michael wrote "Father Figure" about Maglor's relationship with Fëanor?

What if George Michael started shaking his ass because Maglor does because he learned it from Fëanor?

...What if the reason why nobody can remember the name of the other guy from Wham is because it was Maglor wanting a music career but also wanting to blend in?

SV: Maybe that’s the reason Maglor sounds so disgruntled when he grumbles under his breath something about the other guy being Andrew Ridgeley … was that in “In Chains?”

Me: That was in In Chains, yes. I don't think I'll have it as part of the Northern Lights canon, because that would mess with Maglor's backstory for that verse too much, but I'm playing with the idea now.