eachdraidh | ❧ VIDEO; 04 (both courts)

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❧ VIDEO; 04 (both courts)

[ Thranduil hasn't vanished off the face of the Drabwurld again, contrary to popular belief, despite keeping his head down since Samhain. Ensconced in the Caer Glaem library pulling up certificates, maps, and all the other ridiculous paraphernalia required for a legalised contact to take place, he flicks on the locket from his desk in a corner of the vast halls, surrounded by stacks. There he sits sipping a goblet of the last keg of leftover Dorwinion ~~which is currently under strict guard in the cellars (looking at you Samhain revellers)~~. On the table are scrolls and books, all of which have been tidied, while in front of him lies a black leather-bound folder, ostensibly containing the point of the broadcast. ]

The High-King and I have come to an arrangement. In exchange for fair recompense, I have bought the rights to the woodlands south of the forest river and west of the Hidden Falls, within a crux of the mountain-range, to be easily identified on any common map. [ It's not quite as simple as that, of course, but he'll save everyone the pointless politicking. That, and he doesn't want to bring up Celegorm's shard in public; it would be bad taste. ] Aelfen and Elven tribes alike will be travelling to Caer Glaem over the next week or so to replenish their supplies, tools and gold, well within their rights to do so, before continuing on to their new homeland. Please show these former refugees every kindness.

[ As dapper as he looks, he clearly doesn't intend to faff about chatting idly about inanities; someone wants a nice long sleep. ]

If you have business in what will be renamed the Maechenibryth, come the turn of the winter season, or have done in the past which you wish to pursue in the future, you may bring the matter to myself, Thranduil, or to my son, Legolas, who will pass it on accordingly. There is much yet to do and I have little enough time to spare.

[ Sipping his wine, he shuts off the locket. ]

( ooc: if you'd like to continue anything from samhain just pop me a pm and i'll get on it, otherwise i'll take this opportunity to declare tag amnesty on that front as it broke my inbox and burned me out, sobs. tagging will generally be slow until after the weekend because of work. ty for waiting! )

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[Her mouth twists in disappointment, though there is no surprise.]

They shall be, but Sansa wishes to commission a much better and stronger gate from the dwarves.

What dwarves remain from Erebor would no doubt be keener to aid one of Arda, if plied for help.

[ Possibly. It would give Fili and Kili something productive to do with their time besides mourning Thorin, more importantly. ]

I was going to ask Fili and Kili and Gimli. They'll know a good design when they see one. And more important, they'll know a master's design when they see one.

All good recommendations can never come too few or far between. They would relish the distraction, I think.

Because of Thorin? I always thought he was just stuffy and selfish, but they must love him very much to come so far with him.

Oakenshield had his flaws, but he was also very brave. Were it ultimately not for the goldsickness that assailed him, back when I knew your father for the first time, Thorin and I could have come to an arrangement befitting all.

In any case, a king is very different with his family and his nephews must have known him better than most.

Goldsickness?

[She blinks.]

Is that true? I mean I heard it said Thror was mad for gold and it brought the dragon, but I thought it was just legend. The sort of thing that's said about you and Galadriel, when people want to blame things they can't control on somebody far away.

A dwarven malady, not at all something that would come upon an Elf. [ ~~Unless they were the type to backflip over Silmarils.~~ ] What they say about Thorin's line is true. I warned his grandfather what his greed would cost him and he did not heed me; then the dragon came.

I thought the dragon just...happened. I mean of course he came for the gold, but I didn't think it could be Thror's fault.

Amassing that much gold in one place is never a wise idea. It was, as I recall before no longer finding myself a welcome guest within Erebor, as a mountain within the mountain-proper. That is why goldsickness is a sad illness, for it twists the mind away from reason yet the dwarf still remains cognizant of his actions.

Thorin and I were more easily reconciled here, after a fashion. Somewhat.

[ ... Kind of. Mostly. ]

Didn't know you hated each other personally. But that's not my business. I just heard elves and dwarves naturally don't get along. Like cats and dogs, they say.

He trespassed on the road my people made and thrice frightened them at their revels. Thorin and his troupe refused to speak of where they were going, though I knew full well, and for their thoughtless stirrings of the spiders I had them imprisoned for two weeks. They did not take kindly to it, unsurprisingly.

So that's why they got smuggled into Lake-town the way they did. Da was working the barge that day. But I'd've done the same if I was you, and no doubt he would too. Did he come to his senses?

[She's growing oddly comfortable with the Elvenking, and rather talkative. But it's fascinating to have a real talk with someone as old as the forest itself.]

[ A pause, remembering what occurred during the Battle of the Five Armies. He shakes his head once, and not unkindly replies. ]

No. He did not.

[Sigrid's face falls, and she gives a nod after a moment.]

Da begged him not to go to the Mountain. He knew he'd wake the dragon. All of us in Lake-town who helped him, and he went anyway.

We were to dwell either side of the forest river, while he was here. The High-King was not opposed to having hardy dwarves at the foot of the mountains and I would rather have had Oakenshield close than a stranger. But that is not to be.

I will return his shard and sword to his nephews, as is only right.

That is right.

[Sigrid tucks her knees under her chin and hugs them.]

Which reminds me to ask--did Clarisse ever give Celegorm's shard to Legolas?

Why do you ask, Sigrid? That topic is a rather macabre one.

[She hesitates, glancing away. She could back out and avoid explaining herself, but she has wanted to ask for months and she may never be at peace about this. And some part of her deep inside is hoping to have found at long last someone who will be harsh enough to scold or punish her for her foolishness instead of telling her it wasn't her fault. Because it was her fault. People just can't say it to a girl.]

I asked her to.

[ That piques his interest, although he hardly appears angry. ]

You asked Clarisse to deliver Celegorm's shard to Legolas? [ Watching her keenly, he tilts his head. ] Why?

'Cos his death didn't belong to Clarisse. Or me.

[She lets out a breath.]

I'm going to tell you what happened, just...don't say it wasn't my fault. A lot of people say it wasn't and it's only because they're not thinking, or they think I'm just some innocent little girl who's too tender-hearted and blaming herself needlessly because she can't bear what's happened, or something. That's not the case. I've thought about it a lot and I know it was my fault.

So...when Celegorm was marching his army to Caer Glaem, the first to know about it were the birds. They came and they told me. And I panicked. I was afraid and I didn't sit and think what to do. I told Lord Stark because I knew he'd tell me what to do, and he did. He told me to tell Clarisse and some others, and I didn't know them, let alone trust them, but I thought if Lord Stark trusted them, that was enough. It wasn't. So I told Clarisse and I didn't even know her. And I knew that Celegorm wanted. I knew everything, and I let it all fly to the four winds instead of being sensible. That's why there was a battle, and that's why so many people died. A lot of deaths that didn't belong to me, but I got them anyway, and telling Clarisse to give away the shard was the only little thing I could do to try to make something right out of all the wrong I'd made.

[ Thranduil sits and listens, fingers curling by his lips as he slouches in his seat. By the time Sigrid finishes, he sips his wine and sighs. ]

I shall say nothing on the matter, I need not when you suffer enough by your own estimation; nothing I might add to it will increase that guilt further or allay it.

[ He vaguely picks up on where she's coming from, having raised a child who often blurted out his faults and stared up with expectant, wide blue eyes when he knew he was to be scolded. There is no one here to do that for Sigrid and while Thranduil does not wish to, he thinks of what her own father might have done. ]

Good intentions often bear the heaviest regrets. If you can learn from that, you will lessen their load in the future.

I know.

[She is very solemn--not emotional, but not casual at all. She has born this burden for a while, and she has adjusted to it somewhat.]

I was a very stupid spy. I should have kept it to myself and stole the Silmaril. Then I'd tell Sansa about the army and ride to Celegorm and give him what he wanted. Information is more powerful than I knew, and I guess I didn't think it mattered very much who had it, so long as they couldn't surprise us. I learned a few days later that he wasn't trying to surprise us, just draw us out. If I'd kept my head, we wouldn't've done the thing he wanted us to do.

No. Never touch one of those accursed jewels; not ever. Anyone involved in their plight falls under the spell of their doom. [ Tense while clipping out that, he eases his grip on his goblet. ] What could have been is not a healthy way of thinking, Sigrid. Try to put the what ifs behind you, if you wish to move forward.

What is done is done.

[His warning shakes her just a bit. Knowing for sure what she should have done was her one anchor to peace in all this, and now that's in doubt. She blinks, then gropes for the anchor again.]

Is that what happened to Clarisse? She fell under its spell? Would that've...why would it happen if I didn't want it?

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