❧ 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]

What did they say?

[ He hasn't yet had the opportunity to go into the forests, instead allowing Legolas to do so in his stead. His son's reports will be as accurate as Thranduil's own, after all. ]

[aiwendil]

Foul beasts, a darkness in the north. The trees do not like it.

[Radgast's eyes darted around even though they were alone here before he finally looked at Thranduil.] They whisper of creatures we know not of in Middle Earth, Thranduil, perhaps they may well be a great deal worse than orcs.

[firith]

[ A darkness in the north. He could have gone his entire existence without hearing those words spoken in his son's lifetime. ]

If there are creatures of shadow worse than orcs, my own thoughts fly to balrog-like beasts. Is this what you mean, Ragadast? On such a scale as that.

[aiwendil]

They wouldn't speak further of it, Thranduil, but I can try to find out. [Radagst nodded with determination and when he speaks again, he's almost calm and composed as his eyes meet the Elven king's.] We must all be on our guard and prepared.

[firith]

Thank you, my friend. I will do the same though to less effect than you, I am sure.

[ A nod. ]

If none object, I have experience enough in holding down a fortress and will do so to the best of my ability.

[aiwendil]

Good, good, it will be in good care then. [Radagast agreed, he didn't doubt Thranduil's ability to defend his borders against the enemy. He just hoped it was enough.]

[firith]

[ The praise is humbly accepted. ]

Will you travel far?

[aiwendil]

No, not too far. [Radagast shook his head quickly. Even here, he had already began forming a bond with his new forest and he preferred not to leave it for too long, he was sure Thranduil of all Elves would understand.] And not for long.

[firith]

[ He understands very well, perhaps better than he could ever guess at Gandalf's intentions. ]

Until then. [ Inclining his head. ] Galo Anor erin râd gîn.