eachdraidh | video. open to both courts.

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[ Legolas has waited several hours to make this announcement. Grieving, weeping with quiet tears for the half of it, gathering composure and thoughts for the other. He still hardly feels the strength needed to say what he has to say, hardly feels himself having the competence, yet it must be said and he makes a good show for it.

His shoulders squared, head held high no matter the shame he still carries with his hair cut short as it is, his face seems carved out of stone into an expression of firm neutrality, yet not without the soft edges of gentleness. What suffering there is is hidden deeply and out of view. The light in his eyes has dimmed, and with the usual cheer and laughter missing from the picture he makes, his presence seems hollow.

A shadow of his usual self, yet he holds himself together all the same. The Prince he should be, his father's son though not once in his life has he been truly prepared to take over his father's role.

He never wanted to either and especially not like this. ]

Elvenking Thranduil has vanished from this world, leaving behind his shard.

[ His lip doesn't tremble, there is no pause, his voice is even. ]

What he has set out to do, I will carry out in time. 'tis a promise to the shard-holders and the natives of the Drabwurld alike. What begs to be repeat now, with my own voice, with my own words, is that I have forsworn all allegiance with either Court and I will build a home for all who wish not to be drawn into the madness of this foolish war.

[ Time for play is over, time for growing up at last has just begun. He takes no title, names himself no Prince nor King nor anything much really. ]

Those who had unfinished business with him are welcome to bring it to me, his son Legolas Thranduilion.

[ A beat of a pause then in a tone far gentler, yet at the same time tired, he adds. ]

And to those who are to partake in the upcoming battle, I wish you luck.

[ Be safe, he wishes he could say, but the words get stuck in his throat. Then mimicking his father's attitude, he shuts the locket without another word.

In what little time he was speaking the sharp edges of the shard in his hand cut through skin with the force of his hold on it, blood trickles down, painting red flowers on the floor, but he barely feels it. Body numbed to pain with the agony of the soul, he feels himself cracking and crumbling and shattering all over again. What strength that returned over the weeks spent at the Station, seems to be now fizzling out with every quiet breath.

He feels more alone than he has felt in all his life, not knowing if he'll ever see his father ever again. Not even knowing what has happened, in truth, just that today he was simply gone and on bed there lay a shard.

This isn't Arda, this is Drabwurld, will they ever see each other at Aman again? Or has he lost his father for all the rest of his life? ]

( ooc: there'll be a delay before he begins responding and all responses to this post will be in voice only. Thrandaddy is gone, babyleaf's gotta grow up asap and pull his act together. :c )

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I'm coming to see you, okay? I mean, if you really don't want me to then I won't, but -- I'd like to.

[ At the very least he gives her an honest response. ]

You are always welcome, Hermione, but I fear I will not make good company tonight.

That's fine. I'll be there soon, okay?

I will be here.

[ And as he said, he will be in the room beneath the Station they have claimed together with Thranduil. At the door the dryads posed as guards, fiercely protective yet knowing who to trust, who to let in. The blood, at least, he would have cleaned up, the cuts cleaned, his hand wrapped up in stripes of linen. ]

[ Hermione doesn't waste time; she's been busy, of course, with other things, but she doesn't think anyone can blame her for dashing away to take part in this, to help her friend -- one of her dearest friends. She slips through the opening that the guards give her, closing the door behind her. Reaching out, she moves and wraps her around him instantly, not even hesitating. ]

I'm sorry.

[ He has no more tears left, so no more tears fall. These were always private anyway, always alone or with no one but his father there to see them. Though he sinks into the embrace anyway, finding himself comfortable with the contact.

Hermione has offered to be a family to him, of a sort, and he has accepted. This is it. ]

When I sailed from Middle Earth to Aman, I knew that one day he would follow. I could go because I knew he would live through all and join me, after a time. I could wait.

[ What he doesn't say is only implied: I have no such certainty with this. ]

[ She squeezes him gently, nodding her head against his shoulder; she's smaller than he is and she wonders how much comfort her embrace is really giving him. She wasn't very good at singing and she couldn't really braid hair... What could she offer him other than her company and friendship? Hopefully that would be enough. ]

It's not the same as here, though, is it? We have no idea when we're going home. But we will go home, Legolas, that I'm sure of. You'll see your father again sooner than you think.

[ She pauses, hesitating, before she leans back and reaches into her bag. She doesn't have much for homesickness and the loss of family and friend, but she does have some things - the most important being Honeydukes finest chocolate. If it was good enough to help fight back against a Dementor it should help here. ]

Try some of this. It'll make you feel better, I promise.

[ The gesture itself is a comfort, not even necessarily the physical feeling of it. His lips crimp, eyebrows draw together in a pained frown and the expression stays for a while longer as Legolas allows himself this moment of freely showing his pain. Father once told him not to hide it, not from him, but he's gone now and unlikely to return if it was the monarchs who sent him back for his defiance. ]

Is that what it truly is? Returning home?

[ He glances towards the item she presents with, expression shifting into confusion instead now. Chocolate says the package on it, his lips part. ]

What is it?

[ Hermione nods, smiling softly, lifting her hand to touch his cheek with a tenderness she had quite forgotten she'd possessed. It's been a long time since she had felt this kind of motherly feeling for someone that wasn't Harry or Ron - but Legolas is like her brother, now, she thinks, and she's allowed to mother him as much as she wants. ]

I think so. I can't imagine there'd be anything else. We were brought here so, when we leave, we have to go home, right?

[ She smiles, opening it and breaking off a piece, offering it with a bright expression. ]

Chocolate. It's a kind of sweet food, something that warms the body. You'll like it, I promise.

[ A little ways away from them, on a table, wrapped up in the finest, most delicate fabric he managed to find, lies his father's shard. His gaze rests on it a moment, before he turns back to Hermione, soaking up her bright hope, letting it light up the shadows that have once more began encroaching.

It feeds well into the most ingrained optimism within him, battered and weary now with all that has happened in the recent events but recovering all the same. ]

Perhaps they have sent him home when they realised he will truly not fight for their cause.

[ Still, he takes the offered piece of chocolate with great interest. ]

Thank you.

[ Excuse him while he first nibbles on just the corner curiously. ]

Maybe. I know some of us are happy to try and help, or find a place here, but I got the impression that your dad wasn't... Pleased with the things that unfolded her. It might be better for him to go home and go back to the things he was doing there.

[ Her eyes flicker over to the fabric before she shifts, settling against Legolas and doing nothing more than linking their arms, leaving his free one to do whatever he wants with her gift of chocolate. Her fingers are brushing over his palm, as soothing as she can possibly manage, before she smiles softly and leans her head on his shoulder. ]

Eat up. I have more, too, if you like it - I think I even have a Chocolate Frog. Maybe you can start collecting the magic cards.

[ Apparently there's one of her, now. Erp. ]

[ She may be right, it is better that his father wouldn't be involved in the foul matters going on here, after all, yet Legolas also knows that if Thranduil were given a choice: he'd remain, regardless, by his side. And he knows too, that Thranduil's own return would not be a happy one for as long as Legolas remains here. Such is the bond of family that for a good last thousand of years had only each other. ]

He was not indeed, and neither am I, in truth. [ And it's only going to get worse, but shhh he doesn't know that yet. ] Eryn Lasgalen was flourishing when he left, he said, it was why he has chosen to help in this world. No more was left to do in our old home but to watch the happiness unfold and care for the newborn babes.

[ But yes, the chocolate is delightful. Truly. Warm and rich taste that spreads with every bite. And he sits with Hermione at his side, warm and caring, and it seems worries melt like snow on a warm spring morning. ]

It is luxurious treat, Hermione, though I am uncertain if I would ... eat chocolate frog. Do you normally eat frogs? [ Eyebrow... raise. ] And what magic cards do you speak of?

[ Hermione watches him, almost wary, making sure that she is doing all she can do make him feel comfortable and safe. She knows what it's like to lose people - even her parents - and she wants to do whatever she can to comfort her friend. Like she said to him, not so long ago; they're like brother and sister now and she cares for him too much to just stop and leave him to his chocolate and his thoughts. ]

I think he would probably like looking after young children. Would he make up stories for them too, do you think? Maybe he'll use you as a Dragon to make them laugh.

[ She grins as he eats the chocolate and she summons her bag, moving her arm awkwardly and digging around before she pulls out more chocolate and a couple of still-packaged frogs. She passes them over before she tucks closer, smiling brightly. ]

No, it's not a real frog. It's a piece of chocolate, like that, but it's enchanted to look and move like a frog until you're ready to eat it. [ She flicks open the packet, grabbing at the frog to keep it still before she pulls out the card, brightening. ] Oh! It's Godric Gryffindor - that's the House that I was in at school.

[ . . . that's moving. That's actually moving piece of this food called chocolate that he's certain should not be moving quite like this. Unless it's made of these frogs of chocolate, but Hermione said it's the other way around. And so Legolas can only stare, baffled and bemused. He cocks his head, his frown of puzzlement quite... out of place, perhaps, given the circumstance.

Then he blinks rapidly, remembering she was saying something. ]

Perhaps so, he has always been very warm, very playful. [ Exactly where Legolas takes his own playfulness from. His father was his best teacher. ] The brave elflings that would ever approach him, I am certain would have the time of their lives. Their parents, perhaps, not so much.

[ Yet it's all assumption, since besides himself, Legolas had not seen his father around young ones as not many - if any at all - were born in Mirkwood all his life.

That said, his voice carries that thread of confusion in it all throughout, while his eyes flicker from the frog to the card and back. It's moving!!

Omnomnom, chocolate. ]

Is this a wizard from your... house? What ... do you mean by house?

[ ... and he looks like he has so many more questions about Hermione and where she comes from if his glance to her is anything to go by. A pleading look of a sort, please explain. ]

[ Hermione, of course, is completely nonplussed by the moving frog. She just offers it up to Legolas, snapping the lid closed on it and trapping the little enchantment back, pushing it into her friend's hand with a bright smile. She remembers, of course, when all this magic, this world, was just as strange to her -- because she had been a muggleborn in the wizarding world and she'd had to learn fast or make a fool of herself (and that was one thing Hermione couldn't bear).

It's easy to focus on the conversation, though, hoping to urge Legolas away from his sadness and into more smiles. ]

I think I saw a little of that, when he teased about the archery to get you out of his hair. He's... Lovely, really. I'm going to miss him. [ At least Legolas will be able to go home and see his father again. When she goes home she'll never see any of her new friends ever again. ] Those poor kids - coming home screaming about dragons and fairytales with them as the hero or heroine.

[ Godric, in the card, seems to look up and nod at them and Hermione just smiles, looking pleased at the chance to go ahead and impart some knowledge. She loves talking to people, telling people things. It's why everyone imagined she'd be a teacher, though she knew her plans were different. ]

Well. In my school each new student is sorted into a house - there are four: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Each of them is named after one of the witches and wizards that founded the school and each House has a particular kind of student. Slytherins are cunning and determined, Hufflepuffs are kind and loyal, Ravenclaws are intelligent and witty and Gryffindors are brave and a little bit headstrong. I was sorted into Gryffindor, though it was a very close thing - I think I could have easily been a Ravenclaw if I wasn't so insufferable.

[ Idly Legolas wonders if Gandalf would be capable of something similar. After all an almost live looking fireworks were a non-issue for him so perhaps neither were edible frogs. Or rather frogs made of food.

Gratefully he takes the box offered to him, yet still with a much distrustful look levelled at it. ]

Indeed. Not many see it, that is not many beyond our Realm, the people we lead and care for. Beyond them, not many are willing to see past the surface... and perhaps it is for the best, for a King ought to be respectable, but they think him heartless at times.

Or at least, they used to for a time.

[ He shakes his head, these people could not be any more wrong.

The explanations, however, have his rapt and undivided attention. A story, of a sort, something new to learn and something he has an actual interest in. Much like he once upon a time listened to Gimli speak of his people and his culture, now Legolas listens to Hermione speak of similar. ]

I see. Who it is that decides which house a student belongs to?

[ Hermione settles against his side again once she's burdened him with chocolate, planning to leave him with a little bit more before she dodges off to go and let him get some sleep. Maybe she can ask for the King and Queen to set Legolas up with a regular supply if he seems to like it - it couldn't hurt, after all.

Still. He doesn't look entirely pleased with the frog. Less of that, maybe. ]

I think that people often see what they want to see. You can be the nicest person in the world, or the most broken, and sometimes people can be so blinded by prejudice or misunderstanding that they don't see all the good inside of you, even if it's a tiny little piece. That's one of the downfalls of people, though, I suppose.

I never thought him heartless, though.

[ She really doesn't mind babbling on about her school, not when Legolas looks so rapt and interested. She's almost preening with the attention -- and how had her attempts to comfort him turned into a lecture again? ]

There's an enchanted hat - the Sorting Hat - that the founders created way back when. You put it on your head and it kind of... Reads your mind, almost? And it tells you which house you're best suited for.

[ She's a warm weight against his side and he doesn't seem to mind the contact at all. The box rests in his lap, while he finishes the piece she presented him even earlier. Eating it in small nibbles and savouring the flavour that spreads with each one. ]

I am glad you had seen him as he truly is and think of him so.

[ What she said? It's all true and it goes not only for the Men, but for the Elves, for the Dwarves and likely even for the Hobbits. Odd as it may be, with all the differences among the people, there was this single quality they had all in common.

The mention of the enchanted hat though... ah. That's truly bizarre and his puzzled look at Hermione says just that. ]

Enchanted items are not unknown to us, though I would never have thought to enchant a hat. Though it sounds a powerful skill to know one's heart inside out.

[ Hermione is watching him carefully, prepared to all but shove more chocolate in his mouth if he doesn't help himself to more. Chocolate is a proven aid, after all. She wants him to be happy, even if it seems like it might take a little while, seeing as she adores him so completely. She can wait. ]

He was very protective of you. I saw that, and - it could only have come from love, I'm sure of it. He loves you so much.

[ She lifts her shoulders, unsure of his thoughts and letting him have them to himself. She can't help but reach over and break a piece of chocolate for herself, though, taking a bite out of it before she hums, swallows and continues with her lecture.

Even she has to admit the Sorting Hat was particularly special. ]

There's a song about it, actually, that he sang during one of the school opening feasts. "While still alive they did divide their favourites from the throng. Yet how to pick the worthy ones when they were dead and gone? T'was Gryffindor who found the way, he whipped me off his head. The founders put some brains in me so I could choose instead!"

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