❧ VIDEO; 04 (both courts)

[firith]

[ 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! )

Comments

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[kingsdaughter]

That is arrogant. That whole kind is arrogant. What you call crimes, Maglor called woes. Way I see it, they're a folk who came where they had no business being and bullied your people around and now they're complaining now everything's not gone their way. I knew you and Galadriel were different, and that must be why. They're like Smaug.

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[firith]

[ While he agrees with all of that ... ]

They are not evil, Sigrid. Grossly misguided, foolish, arrogant and capable of great cruelty, but not to be forsaken. If they are inside, they know it well enough for they feel as keenly as do we.

I can sympathise without forgiving them an inch, as should you.

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[kingsdaughter]

Why? Why aren't they evil? Aren't they more evil if they know how wrong it is and they still do it?

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[firith]

No, Sigrid. Evil is something very different, and the Noldor for all their faults have faced it. Many died to defend Beleriand; right and wrong are never black and white, and there are always two sides to a story. Celegorm is a broken creature, and it would bring little good in the world to spill his blood in recompense for that he took from Legolas.

I pity him, even as he disgusts me. I do. He will never know the joy and peace in my son's heart, which will heal in time. Celegorm's never shall.

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[kingsdaughter]

[She looks at Thranduil quietly for a long, long time. Whatever internal dialogue she may be having is kept to herself.

The truth is that there is no internal dialogue, just one long, high-pitched tone in her head.]

Nobody told me he came back to life.

[When it's spoken, she sounds a touch embarrassed--far less embarrassed than she feels for being so ignorant.]

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[firith]

I almost killed him when I first arrived back. [ I almost regret not doing it. ] He returned as one of the Shardless.

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[kingsdaughter]

Out of everybody who died in that battle, why was it him who got to come back?

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[firith]

That, I could not say, nor do I care to waste my time wondering.