eachdraidh | text ▌seelie & private locked.

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text ▌seelie & private locked.

For those that are unaware of me, my name is Renly Baratheon. Times have been trying of late, I believe, and we have all been suffering ills that there are few words best to describe. It is for this that I would desire to offer myself as a helping hand or soothing ear for all that desire it or have found themselves lost or without an ally to aid in soothing their turmoiled emotions. You may find me through this network or in my rooms in the castle; the marking of a stag is upon my door and you will be greeted by my fawn, Laurel. I doubt it will be hard to miss.

[ And now for the main point of his post:

LOCKED TO: SANSA, ARYA, MARGAERY, JON, GENDRY. ]

My dear friends and kin; I would hope that I could meet you all sometime in the near future, once your own missions and duties are attended to. I have brought gifts for you all that I would like to pass on as soon as matters are in hand. I would also wish to hear more of the fate of Ned Stark. You have my thanks.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Is it your desire to build a home here in such a place, perhaps on the coast where you might own your own docks and ships, taking the sea-storms as they come?

It would be pleasant, I admit. The king and queen here have been good to me, moreso than needs be considering, and a home of my own would be both comforting and safe for those I wish to protect. I do not think it would ever compare to Storm's End, all the same.

No, I have several clans of the Aelfen to re-home whereas in my own realm of Eryn Lasgalen it was a relatively simple matter of assimilating my father's people of the Sindar, on his instruction, with the Silvan. Here, I find I have far more babes-in-arms to account for than ever before.

It must be quite a trial, even for an Elvenking. I am glad I only have a handful to rehome, at least for now. I cannot be sure that no more from my realm will come to us, however.

[ And here he looks a little weary. ]

There are more present from Arda than I am pleased to relate.

I can empathise. There were some from my lands that I wished never to lay eyes upon again.

[ Deadpan: ] I long to own dungeons again.

[ At least that gives him cause to laugh. ]

I can understand the desire. Having ones foes locked away would make this place much easier on the spirit.

We shall have to content ourselves in the knowledge there are a great many vile creatures lurking in the wilderness, ready to devour our enemies at unawares.

[ Wearing a small smile, shh. He's entirely serious, what do you mean. ]

[ His own lips curl and he nods his head. ]

If only there were a means to point them in the right direction.

A scrying stone that locates hungry bears would be most useful in keeping an eye on the local wildlife, for recreational purposes of course.

Certainly. It is always best to know what parts of a forest to avoid. It's simply intelligent though.

And it is hardly fair to blame the creature for its natural urges. We ought to name it something forgiving, to prove we hold no ill-will toward it for anything it may or may not do around unwitting travellers.

Something to show that we think it's strength a gift, rather than a curse. Perhaps a name that would make people wonder about how powerful, yet gentle, it might be? Perhaps then only the most daring - [ or foolish ] - would think to approach it.

Gentle Ben.

[ He would laugh if he wasn't trying so hard to be stern. ]

Gentle Ben indeed. He and his kind will be written in books as the slayer of darkness. Many would imagine his fellows to be creatures of the light.

[ Thranduil, meanwhile, lets a bark of laughter out and Renly has the good fortune of hearing how an Elf sounds when delighted. ]

Will he walk in twilight, this noble hero? His fur is matted from battle and his claws are weary, where shall he seek his repose?

[ If there's one thing true about any of the Eldar, no matter their faction, it's that they like to be entertained. ~~Big babies.~~ ]

[ He's biting back his own mirth, but he does chuckle; how can he not? ]

Of course. He will find one of the most beautiful of lakes in his kingdoms and there he shall bathe, protected by the magics of his kind. With each kill he will grow stronger and, I imagine, will require longer baths.

I almost feel like I require this magical, strong-scent removing pool for my son's use whenever he returns from patrols. He spends an inordinate amount of time in trees.

[ No offence, babyleaf, you just get a sort of mossy stink. ]

If I had sons of my own I think I would do much the same, I can assure you of that.

I hope the good fortune of children is visited upon you and your lady wife here, when the time is right. There is no greater gift or honour than the raising of a child, especially for Elvenkind. They are not full-grown until they reach one-hundred years and after that their youth is considered largely at an end.

[ Mostly, for some. ]

Legolas is over a thousand, yet he remains the same as he was when he came of age. An Elfling caught in an eternal summer, you would know him by his smile immediately.

Ah, I. I am certain the gift will come to us, when we are ready. She and I are still quite young; I would not wish that pleasure upon either of us until we are both quite prepared.

[ haaah. yeah, kids. one day. haha. ha. hah. um. ]

He sounds like a delight to behold, Elvenking. It would be a pleasure to meet him, one day.

Of course. We Elves never desire children in times of war and my Elvenqueen passed away many years ago; Legolas will never have siblings. I fear he is all the kinder for it, in a sad way, and will befriend you most readily when you meet. He does tend to adopt himself brothers from all the peoples he visits, fair warning. I apologise on his behalf for any future forwardness.

[ Definitely making a mental note to host introductions, or at least prompt them. ]

I would never ask my lady wife to bear a child for me until it was necessity. In our lands it was a duty we had to attempt, for the heir of kingship, but here? She is welcome to a life of peace, if she wishes for it.

[ Thank goodness. ]

As for your son - I have often found the brothers we choose are the most loving, even if we are gifted with brothers of blood. I only hope he will judge me as highly as you speak of him.

[ His smile returns, an approval inherent in it as he looks upon Renly. There is a mildly far-off consideration to his words when he speaks again, clearly impressed. ]

A great king of Gondor or Rohan you would have been in Arda. You draw unto yourself an easy love from those to whom you would speak your mind; your way is gentle without eschewing strength or honour. So few have been such Men, such kings, their legacies are so easily plucked from memory as scant long blades of grass from a shorn meadow, that I can see their image in your shadow. [ Renly seems a soft after-image of King Elessar. ] I have no powers of foresight, no gift that will allow me to search your mind, yet had I the means I do not think I would endeavour to use them — if the Men of this world choose to raise you up, a fallen king from his own home into a leader to be followed, it is clear even to me that you will command the hearts of great armies and I should be among the least surprised.

Many kings and queens I have encountered, eager to rule, and anything is possible; yet you are unforgettable.

[ Thranduil does not blink as he speaks, not until he tilts his chin slightly and the bright eyes resting on Renly's face slip back into the present. ]

The Young Deer or rather The Young Buck, Netharason, has a life of possibilities ahead of him, thanks to you — it is only fitting you too carry this title. With your blessing, I will name you such amongst all my people from this day forth so that they too shall know the quiet strength in the heart of one so deserving of an antlered crown, whether he walks on four legs or two.

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