(Elvenking)—❧ Thranduil Oropherion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
firith) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
eachdraidh2014-04-05 05:17 pm
firith) wrote in eachdraidh2014-04-05 05:17 pm
❧ video; 01
[ Tiny, delicate little hands are the first sight to be seen when the locket begins to broadcast, closely followed by a pair of bright grey eyes. A fairy flutters from Thranduil's arm to sit on his shoulder and, pointy-eared as he is with a river of pale blonde hair (not to mention a crown of red berries and leaves), they make a fine pair, though neither of them appears particularly human. It isn't locked to one court or another, singularly because he isn't aware it can be, displaying the brilliant golden walls of a private solar in Caer Glaem. A king's chambers.
The feed shuts off abruptly.
Minutes later, it clicks back on to the sound of the tinkling laughter of the same fairy; someone is clearly learning how to use the locket's functions via trial and error. Judging by the first glimpse of him, he needs the practice. The third time he speaks, the message runs along the screen like a river of inked words taking form: A charming tool. And they will be able to respond in kind, you say? I think I will, yes. How do I —? Ah. Thank you, little one.
Fourth time is a charm; the locket is held at arm's length, affording the best view yet of a fascinated elf. ]
I am Thranduil, Elvenking of Eryn Lasgalen, that which is the Wood of Greenleaves in the land from whence I hail. I would welcome those with greater knowledge of the Drabwurld and the creatures within it. Well do I understand the nature of being summoned thus — that is not a point of contention for me, as it is with many of you.
[ The fairy shimmers insistently, drawing a glance. ]
Lothdithen will visit any who wish to further discuss with me the matter of the war and lead them to where I will be in the castle until nightfall. The library will suffice with its maps of where we might strengthen this fortress with our differing experience and arts.
[ There is no thanks, no goodbye. The feed simply ends with the tone of one who is not accustomed to bandying idle words. ]
The feed shuts off abruptly.
Minutes later, it clicks back on to the sound of the tinkling laughter of the same fairy; someone is clearly learning how to use the locket's functions via trial and error. Judging by the first glimpse of him, he needs the practice. The third time he speaks, the message runs along the screen like a river of inked words taking form: A charming tool. And they will be able to respond in kind, you say? I think I will, yes. How do I —? Ah. Thank you, little one.
Fourth time is a charm; the locket is held at arm's length, affording the best view yet of a fascinated elf. ]
I am Thranduil, Elvenking of Eryn Lasgalen, that which is the Wood of Greenleaves in the land from whence I hail. I would welcome those with greater knowledge of the Drabwurld and the creatures within it. Well do I understand the nature of being summoned thus — that is not a point of contention for me, as it is with many of you.
[ The fairy shimmers insistently, drawing a glance. ]
Lothdithen will visit any who wish to further discuss with me the matter of the war and lead them to where I will be in the castle until nightfall. The library will suffice with its maps of where we might strengthen this fortress with our differing experience and arts.
[ There is no thanks, no goodbye. The feed simply ends with the tone of one who is not accustomed to bandying idle words. ]
action!
At the very least, he learns from it too the how-to of using the lockets they have all been gifted with (along with the map.) Though it isn't something he will so readily admit to. ]
Do you wish me to accompany you during all those?
[ No, dad, no: that would be the tone of this particular question. ]
Or do you have a different task in mind for me?
[ Followed by one more hopeful! ]
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I had thought you might ride out and investigate our immediate borders, if the task is not too troublesome.
[ Legolas, do you really think he'd shut you up in a castle. ]
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He raises from where he rested, perched upon an edge of a table and whips out the map he received upon arrival. His sigh: put upon, but for the quirk of lips that betray what Thranduil most likely did not even have to read on his face. They were father and son, if there was one person who knew Legolas better than anyone it was most certainly his father.
At Thranduil's side, he spreads the map out as to plan out the stages of this upcoming travel, further betraying that this was exactly something he was waiting for. ]
If someone must do this, then I will bear the burden. [ The act fails, however, with the outright joy that fills his voice: ] I had thought of it as well already and thought to begin by heading south-west into the Great Greenwood over the flat lands and to at least reach the river. If the map is to believed all around us are mountains, forested most likely, which ought to make borders tough enough on their own. [ Which isn't to say they ought to be ignored, simply that the seemingly weakest link should be investigated first. ] The roads marked on the map that lead through them are curious, however. Beyond that, the way to Cothromach interests me as well.
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Go where you will it is necessary. [ Good choices, all of them. He could not have suggested anything better and is proud of his son for his good sense. ] You carry with you my confidence, as always.
[ They mightn't have marchwardens to command here, but Legolas can more than take care of himself and get something of note done in the same breath. ]
Make your preparations today, but dine with me before you leave.
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He nods his head in acceptance, rolling the map up once more. But he stays where he seated himself on the armrest of Thranduil's armchair. Like a bird, having moved from one perching spot to the next. ]
Very well. I have missed our meals together, so I would not miss it for the world.
[ A soft smile to go along with the genuine admission, a whisper filled with all sorts of genuine pleasure at the thought. ]
I do not know how long this may take, may be days, may be weeks; is there a time you wish me to return before?
no subject
[ The locket whose chain is wrapped around his fingers is gestured with on his lap. ]
The distance will be shortened by these, I believe.
no subject
No, another century I could not bear either. No longer than a month if so long it must be, but to make it worthwhile then no less than a week, I believe. I can travel swiftly, more so if I will be able to take two steeds.
[ But the locket still gets an odd look from Legolas. He had seen Thranduil use it, but he still... isn't entirely convinced of its convenience. Especially for keeping in touch while he's travelling. ]
But will this device truly be of use for us?
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[ The tilt of his head against Legolas's is affectionate and brings back fresh waves of memory; of a tiny elfling butting heads with him, standing up on Thranduil's lap yet too short to even pass the height of his father's shoulders. It's a loving gesture, one that he indulges his son in private.
He turns over the locket, the pad of a thumb running over the delicate designs on the casing. ]
It is oddly tolerable, by means of a way to communicate. Faster, I find, than calling a bird from outside.
[ No over-talkative thrushes. ]
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It certainly seems faster and far more convenient to communicate with the mortal men and all [ He pauses briefly, wondering how to put this: ] the other beings present who may not be able to understand the birds.
But it still feels unnatural.
[ Which, frankly, means Thranduil will not escape the fate of serenading sparrows and the like. ]
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[ Sparrows are welcome, thrushes and even nightingales. He'll just have to send something bigger to Legolas, on principle. ]
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[ Unnatural as it may be, Legolas is not stupid, mind. He can recognise a value of it and he can acknowledge it, no matter his personal feelings on the matter, but there is still one thing. And it is said with a tease: ]
My only wish is that it does not replace all our contact. While I remain in Caer Glaem, I demand to speak in person with you... always.
[ Because he knows his father wouldn't. ]
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The Elvenking, I hear, does not take kindly to demands being made of his person ...
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Still, though, without much for fear, or shame, or even unease, Legolas reaches out a hand then the other to pluck the crown off his father's head. Carefully, reverently, but this is still what it is. ]
And Thranduil, I hear, indulges his son in matters of such importance to him.
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Wooooow.Leaning over, he arches a brow. ]If you break that, you will carve a new one with the smallest knife in the castle.
[ Touching him on the arm, Thranduil smooths down his own ruffled crown with his other hand. To placate Legolas, he relents. ]
I doubt I could escape your clutches even if I wanted to.
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Legolas steels his own expression into neutrality, feigned, but accurate and most natural looking. ]
I could let you be if you wished me to...
[ Most curious. ]
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I will never leave you. Not with a thousand leagues between us or a continent, or an ocean, or the stars. We shall not be parted again, henig vuil, that I promise.
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I will hold you to that, though it is a promise I seem to have drawn out of you by force.
[ He sounds both abashed and apologetic. ]
Goheno nin.
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[ A hand slides up to ruffle the sleek hair at the back of Legolas's neck before he steps back, a smile touching his eyes as he gives the lanky legs on the armrest a push. ]
Get out of here and make yourself useful.
no subject
Here in the privacy those rooms he doesn't mind the affection, if of the teasing and playful sort. Here is where they allow themselves such, in the first place. ]
I will and as promised, I will return to dine with you before I set out. Expect me at the usual time.