[video | 001]

[menelluin]

[The woman who appears on the locket would be a sight to behold -- if perhaps her hair were not in disarray or the dirt smudged on her face. Her expression is held tightly and deliberately; there's a sense that, if she let her emotion go, she might fall into something that she cannot come back from, not easily.]

I do not know who is listening. [There's a sense that she honestly does not care, not now.] I have but one question and I will have my answer. [Idril's voice is shaking, threatening to crack but there is a power behind it.]

Where is my son?

Comments

voice;

[deadpoet]

Don't take it out on me. I don't even know what the little bastard looks like, much less what his name is. No one does.

voice;

[menelluin]

[There's a bitter sort of hardness that edges her tone.] Take care how you speak of my son, Earendil, son of Tuor, in whose veins flow the blood of royal houses of Men and Eldar alike.

[In other words: my son is not a bastard and if I could, I would throw this locket at your head.]

voice;

[deadpoet]

So the brat's a cocktail of fancy bloodlines. Good to know, that.

[Not that he's ever noticed a distinct quality in blood, apart from a Slayer's blood. But Eldar blood? Who knows. Could be trippy.]

voice;

[menelluin]

Have you one iota of etiquette within you?

voice;

[deadpoet]

I did, once. Decided it was a load of bollocks. I've been happier ever since.

Re: voice;

[menelluin]

Who are you?

voice;

[deadpoet]

Spike. And what's your name, love?

voice;

[menelluin]

Idril, called Celebrindal, Lady of Gondolin and I am not your "love" and my child is not some brat in the rabble. You would do well to remember that.

voice;

[deadpoet]

Poncy, aren't we? Must be tedious for you dealing with the rabble.

voice;

[menelluin]

Dealing with you is tedious.

voice;

[deadpoet]

Now now, it's no use buttering me up. Flattery won't get you anywhere.

voice;

[menelluin]

Obviously not. I'll not try it anymore.

voice;

[deadpoet]

I'll give you a heads up if I see the little kneebiter.

[He's just that nice of a person. A regular good samaritan.]