—❧ ʟᴇɢᴏʟᴀs (
orcsurfing) wrote in
eachdraidh2014-07-25 05:30 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
video. open to both courts.
[ 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 )
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 )
video;
[ that just about sums it up ]
voice. private.
He was gone this morning, where I had last seen him the shard. No blood, no message. Perhaps this is the punishment for refusing allegiance to the Seelie Court.
[ And perhaps he had done it himself to... follow. ]
voice. private.
[ Not that John wouldn't, if it were him, but Legolas can't. From what little he understands of elves, it could kill him. ]
Sometimes things just... happen. There's no reason for it.
no subject
[ Bland and tired. ]
I have considered that I may have to remain here for all of my eternity, but it was a thought bearable while he was here with me. [ No longer there is just a sea between them, but worlds. He can tell though, if only vaguely, the reasons for John's words, so he offers a small comfort. ] I will be well, John, I will live until the way home is opened to me.
[ A promise to Thranduil, that he would live, that he would not ever simply give up, no matter the pain. ]
no subject
[ He sighs. ]
You're not alone. Thranduil may be gone, but you have me and Hermione and others here with you. If it's eternity, then you won't be alone.
no subject
Thank you.
[ There's gravity in those words, but of the good kind. His grief may still ring clear - he needs the time to grieve - but what worries there were are soothed. ]
no subject
Of course. Any time you need me, and quite a few times when you don't.
no subject
[ No blood relation, different people and cultures and worlds, yet still, it seemed to matter little. Hermione already told him he is like a brother to her... kind words, those. He sounds... hopeful, somehow. ]
no subject
Right.
[ Brothers in arms, and then some. ]
no subject
Though the relief colours his voice deeply, mixed in with concern and all sorts of other various emotions. ]
Be safe, John.