I.
It had been just enough time that Maglor felt he needed to make sure his skills were where they should be after so long just getting by. At least he'd held onto his sword throughout the Ages, along with his harp, though he hadn't played in some time. So he took himself to one of the training grounds and set about doing some serious damage to the training targets. With every passing hour he spent tirelessly training, his every movement grew smoother, more precise, and even faster. It was far too easy to slip back into that mindset, and he did his best not to dwell.

II.
No, he still hated going over water. Rowing only made him tenser, expecting the small boat to capsize and the water to swallow him up at every stroke, but he'd learned it was the best way to get to the capitol, and he'd been summoned. The Feanorian breathed easier once he was back on dry land, and made quick work of slipping through the streets, smiling as he avoided running into people and helping here and there as he saw the need.

V. Have an idea? Hit me! Maglor's a curious elf and will travel here and there.