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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Persecution?

[ A question that asks for more than he does, in the indignity and surprise he harbours. ]

The humans of my land detest those that are not like them; dwarves, elves, gnomes, all are subjected to insults and more. [ The sneer finds his face quickly, a fire burning behind his eye. ] They use us then seek our deaths when we no longer prove useful.

If you are treated thus here, my friend, you must come to me. I will ensure it does not happen again.

[ Anyone who treats people like that, whether Men or otherwise, is going to get a nasty shock. ]

[ The reply is a surprise, in a manner, Thranduil has the air of a king and he has little trust for such men. Still somewhere inside he appreciates it. ]

They will not live long if they dare.

Bring them to me and I will see that they regret their actions for far longer than it takes your blade to find a home in them.

[ Why not just keep assholes in his soon-to-be dungeons unless they agree to serve the one they caused harm? Best solution. ]

Will you journey into the Maechenibryth after its mountainhome delving is complete? You would be welcome, Seelie or not; I ask only that you respect my word while within my realm.

Edited 2014-11-20 20:22 (UTC)

[ Because killing them is oddly relaxing! Like pulling weeds! It is his favorite pass time, it would be very saddening to rid him of it. ]

If by some miracle they survive the initial encounter, perhaps.

[ One day he is going to leave a beaten and bloody douche human on Thranduil's door step, like a cat. It'll be beautiful. ]

I want to see the sanctuary, this place not bought with the blood of elves. [ He has never step foot in the Elven State of Dol Blathanna, nor does he ever have the desire to. Francesca Findabair betrayed her people when she sold them out to Nilfgaard, Iorveth would sooner kiss a drowner than go there.

Thus he is curious about this Maechenibryth, curious to see what he hopes Upper Aedrin will likely become under the leadership of Saskia. ]

Your word will be respected, Thranduil. I don't seek to create conflict between what may as well be kin.

Paid for by the shard of an Elf, a kinslayer and one who tortured my son almost to the point of death. He lives now as one of the Shardless, but he does live.

[ Relenting on that much; 'unfortunately' hangs on the tip of his tongue when speaking of the fact Celegorm hasn't remained dead, because that would really be a vast improvement.

Also no, Iorveth, no kitty shenans with broken humans pls. ]

Did you rip it from his chest?

No. [ Grey eyes flicker, a little sharp. ] Elves do not harm other Elves where I am from, to do so is a heinous and unthinkable crime, even moreso than laying siege to the Men or Dwarves.

The shard came into the rightful possession of my son, who did not lend harm to its owner.

Then it was no betrayal. He sealed his fate when he tortured your son. [ Iorveth would have seen the kinslayer dead, even taken it upon himself to do the deed. What is another crime to the many others he already has to his name? ] And you a better man than those I have known.

[ A look of pain and anger flicks across his face, brief and gone as quickly as it appeared. ]

I watched my unit be slaughtered before my eyes as payment for a 'Free Elven State', I would have joined them had I not escaped. The leader of my people bowed before the dogs of Nilfgaard and sold out her own.

The price of a kinslayer's shard is steep, but more unforgivable prices have been paid for similar things.

He cut his hair and offered me his life, but I am no kinslayer. I would not bring myself so low, not for him ... even if I wanted to.

[ Thranduil falls silent for as long as he listens to Iorveth's story, sympathy and his own shade of understanding behind bright eyes. ]

The mountainhome will be called I Othrann-in-Heneb, 'the Fortress of the Many-Eyed' in the Sindarin tongue of my people. There shall be dryads and herds of the war-unicorns from the forests, birds that bring news to us, the river shall fall enchanted to spell asleep any trespassers into our lands. My son is keen to coax the scattered Elven clans of the Drabwurld to our cause, to be stronger together than counted apart; the Sindar have lent their strength to other communities in the past, notably the Silvan in my father's realm which passed to me. We immersed ourselves in a peaceful blend, seeking the rustic and beautiful ... and we defended it fiercely.

Quite apart from that, none may pass into or outside of my Gates once they are shut. That is my inherent art; to enclose and endure, along with any in my keep. I long for that security again, for that is where I may exert my greatest strength.

This is the realm I will build and where you will always be welcome, Iorveth. Safe.

[ To hear him speak of it sounds... peaceful. A place to lay down ones weapons and cast aside worries, expect Iorveth struggles with the concept of safety, of peace, he has fought for so long it is all he truly knows. Yet some part of him yearns for it, for a time where he can sleep for more than an hour, where he can look over his shoulder and not see enemies lurking in the dark.

Such things will never be, however. ]

I can lend my bow and sword to it's defense, for fighting is what I am good at and you may prove to be a man worthy of them. I have fought for over a hundred years for the same security and peace for my people, to ensure the same for those here will be not difficult task. [ Saskia would approve, he thinks. She would smile upon him, praise him for the decision. He needs something to busy his hands after all, idleness has never sat well with him. ]

I do not seek to call myself Elvenking over any who deem me unworthy, nor do I wish to rule all Elves and never have; only those who dwell under my protection.

[ An Elvenking but not the Elvenking, not of everyone and not to consider himself better than others. Just for the distinction of a ruling body, which he is comfortable undertaking when others are not; when it matters. ]

May I ask, cousin — were the scars you bear a product of your mistreatment?

You have already proven yourself more than those who would sell out their own for gold and land.

[ He has never desired a crown, he knows a better head for it. Perhaps he will know another in Thranduil, but only time will tell that.

At the mention of his scar, the elf tugs at his red headscarf. ]

A pig of a human thought he could run me through with a spear. [ Almost casually ( the muscles in his arm is tense ) he pulls it up to reveal the hideous scar, still red after all this time. ] He managed to rid me of an eye before I cut out his stomach.

Even the Eldar I know could not fully heal from losing an eye. Scars I have borne that have seared away half my face, yet it all vanished from sight in time.

[ A terrible wound, to be sure, and he cannot bear to think of Iorveth suffering any more than he already has. ]

Once I have settled in the Greenwood and my affairs are in order, would you permit me to use a boon to have your full sight returned by the might and magic of the monarchs? If so, I will gladly ask for it to be done at no expense to you or debt due to me.

[ Just as swiftly as he uncovered the scar he covers it again, headscarf falling back into place. ]

I am used to only having one eye, my skills have not dismissed due to the impairment. This scar is a reminder of the treacherous nature of humans, and I bare not trust for the monarchs and their magic. [ Sorcerers are just as bad in his mind. ] Their magic will one day come with a heavy price, do not pay it on my account.

As you wish. [ Gently, he adds, ] I think no less of your skills for the scars you bear. In all frankness, your shot with a bow is likely still better than mine.

[ A rare laugh passes through his lips. ]

Many have wished it weren't so. [ No, he doesn't take joy in shooting people. Nope. ]

[ Ivvy pls. ]

Many must underestimate you, cousin.

[ Not I, goes unsaid, a smile curving a corner of his own lips. ]

[ Can't stop, won't stop. ]

As many as underestimate you.

[ Laughing, he shakes his head. ]

Not enough have seen me in recent centuries to know I still exist, let alone to mistake me.

[ Way to make him feel YOUNG, only over a hundred years old. Gosh. ]

That must be nice.

[ Wow, Iorveth, only just legal in Elf!terms. ]

Why do you say that? I have never paraded myself for the eyes of Men, not even in the First Age when they were a curiosity.

[ So young and so angry.

He shrugs. ]

There are times I tire of the fighting.

[ He enjoys killing humans, that he will not deny, but he has been doing it for so long. The elf will not know what to do with peace, yet sometimes earns for it all the same. ]

All do, having once seen war. One battle is never unlike the next, bloody and brutal.

❧ VIDEO; 04 (both courts)

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