❧ video; 01

[firith]

[ Tiny, delicate little hands are the first sight to be seen when the locket begins to broadcast, closely followed by a pair of bright grey eyes. A fairy flutters from Thranduil's arm to sit on his shoulder and, pointy-eared as he is with a river of pale blonde hair (not to mention a crown of red berries and leaves), they make a fine pair, though neither of them appears particularly human. It isn't locked to one court or another, singularly because he isn't aware it can be, displaying the brilliant golden walls of a private solar in Caer Glaem. A king's chambers.

The feed shuts off abruptly.

Minutes later, it clicks back on to the sound of the tinkling laughter of the same fairy; someone is clearly learning how to use the locket's functions via trial and error. Judging by the first glimpse of him, he needs the practice. The third time he speaks, the message runs along the screen like a river of inked words taking form: A charming tool. And they will be able to respond in kind, you say? I think I will, yes. How do I —? Ah. Thank you, little one.

Fourth time is a charm; the locket is held at arm's length, affording the best view yet of a fascinated elf. ]

I am Thranduil, Elvenking of Eryn Lasgalen, that which is the Wood of Greenleaves in the land from whence I hail. I would welcome those with greater knowledge of the Drabwurld and the creatures within it. Well do I understand the nature of being summoned thus — that is not a point of contention for me, as it is with many of you.

[ The fairy shimmers insistently, drawing a glance. ]

Lothdithen will visit any who wish to further discuss with me the matter of the war and lead them to where I will be in the castle until nightfall. The library will suffice with its maps of where we might strengthen this fortress with our differing experience and arts.

[ There is no thanks, no goodbye. The feed simply ends with the tone of one who is not accustomed to bandying idle words. ]

Comments

[firith]

Rather a mutation for the better than the worse.

[ He says it quietly, with a solemnity that he dismisses in favour of pushing the main topic at hand just like Charles; details can be indulged at a later date. Thranduil doesn't bother eyeing the stacks. They are grand and wide, peppered with ancient statues and other sources of information, all of it fine and fragile and extensive. ]

It stands to reason they also share the locket-magic. An infiltration of their home would take too long, but we might invade their confidences if they believe us harmless pacifists with none of their wildness or smarts.

[ As 'good' as Thranduil identifies, it does not bode well for those in Caer Scima with the Woodland faction from Middle-Earth having been brought thither, far more dangerous than their gentler kin in Imladris and Lorien. ]

[excessivehubris]

[Charles’ lips twitched slightly as he recalled Radgast’s gentle, yet stern admonishment about the use of his mutation. The Brown wizard had struck upon a nerve and also touched at the core of the distrust Charles usually experienced from people who were unnerved by his mutation: even other mutants.

However, one did not directly contradict a king (well, at least not on a relatively personal matter) and he merely bowed his head slightly and put his focus back on the more important topic of their conversation.

Charles was … well … not harmless precisely but he was definitely given more towards searching for peaceful solutions than perhaps Thranduil and the Woodland faction of elves. He may have genuinely missed any potential irony in the elvenking’s statement and instead he considered the words on their merit alone.]

It could benefit those of us taken, from both sides, if we can develop lines of communication between ourselves. At least until we are able to get our arms around the heart of this conflict. Even if they are not predisposed to the idea of cooperation, I cannot believe they are any more comfortable in the position of pawn, than we are here.

[firith]

That only serves to make them more ruthless. [ An observation not without merit. ] Wolves backed into a corner will bite, however much they bark the rest of the time. We should not put our forces in harm's way, if at all possible, nor allow the faces of any of our infiltrators to be seen.

[excessivehubris]

Infiltration may not be that difficult a prospect, should we choose to pursue such a thing.

[Charles said in a pensive tone and there was a long pause, one during which quite a bit crossed the telepath's mind and perhaps reflected upon his face before he reached up and rubbed at his temple.]

But first, we should determine what sort of 'force' we have here. I've met quite a few people with a wide range of abilities, skills and experience. Coordinating our numbers will require some creativity and a bit of flexibility as we are varied in our strengths and weaknesses.

[firith]

You would be better suited to reporting on that than I, Professor.

[ With a note of mild amusement. ]