eachdraidh | Video; Both Courts

[ The locket turns on, allowing a glimpse of the bailey in Caer Glaem while Celeborn is figuring out how it works. He's been at court for a few days but keeping to himself. There are so many people in the castle, a babble of voices and stray surface thoughts, that he's spent most of that time just learning his way around and avoiding the larger gatherings. Finding this outdoor haven feels almost like a reward for his patience. There's still so much to absorb, and this - figuring out how the locket works - is one he feels he can put off no longer.

He stares straight ahead; tall, handsome and silver-haired, garbed in soft gray traveling clothes. The elf's expression is slightly wary (speaking to anyone and everyone, no matter where in the Drabwurld they are, reminds him sharply of Fëanor's palantiri and look how those turned out). ]

Le suilon (Greetings).

My name is Celeborn, lord of Lothlórien in my world. [ He trails off for a moment, not entirely sure what to say next. 'My world'. It still feels surreal, stepping through a fairy ring and traveling far beyond Arda. If he understands right, beyond Aman as well. This isn't his home. Although the little he's seen in certainly beautiful. ] I am a newcomer. Like many of those now here in this castle.

If there are any other natives of Ennor, I would be pleased to speak with you. My own people especially, but others as well. [ Celeborn pauses, then forges onward. ] While it grieves me that war against the long dark rages in other lands, I will do what I can to aid in its downfall.

Na lû e-govaned vîn. (Until next we meet.)

[ The locket feed darkens after a long pause, once Celeborn figures out how to turn it off. ]

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[ Not a miracle to have pried him here, but the safety of Legolas. Arguably, it is the only thing that could have tempted him back a second time. Decades in the reckoning of Men. Nodding, he gives an obliging shrug, somewhat, to the mention of courtly customs. ]

They tend to appear quite frightened when they realise they are standing next to an Elf. I rather enjoy not mentioning it. [ And seeing how long it takes for a curious party to ask, Your ears ...? ] I am well, yes. Legolas slumbers in an enchanted sleep at Caer Glaem, it consumed him when the moon was taken from the sky. I am abroad with the Elven and Aelfen company he and I have collected, fighting alongside the Seelie to reclaim it.

[ But not necessary as one of the Seelie, for that matter. ]

[ Any questions he has about the stability of this world's inhabitants dissolve in the face of hearing about Thranduil's son. ]

He is here? In the castle? If you tell me where, I can check on him personally if that would ease your mind, my friend.

[ -- and belatedly, since he had spent the important hours indoors and merely assumed there was no moon. ] Ithil is missing?

[ Something he hadn't known was tense eases in his chest when Celeborn issues his concerns over Legolas, a small smile demurring as Thranduil keeps himself on track. ]

Not ours, but theirs. The moon here has fallen from the sky and takes the form of many creatures in the caves wherein the Unseelie seek to hold it. I have known its like before. Greatly would I prefer the wisdom of Mithrandir in these matters, in lieu of following the Seelies' lead. [ A messy affair and he likes it not at all. He veers into what could be his main focus of the conversation, strictly surrendering it to an aside; if he doesn't, his fears will never be allayed and he has a company of Elves nearby that can hear his every word. ] Legolas, meanwhile, is in the infirmary. I am certain your presence will soothe him, and he will sense you are near.

[ There is a lengthy, weighted pause, and then he admits; ] Thorin Oakenshield has agreed to keep watch over him in my stead.

[ Just don't ask, bro. Don't ask. ]

Then I will make time to seek him out.

[ Of the moon falling from the sky (is such a thing possible? surely the vessel it rides in would be bespelled to prevent that), he does not comment on. Celeborn is still finding his niche, and reuniting with family members he hasn't spoken to in centuries. It may take a little while to gather information here and there and shape it into a more complete picture.

... except that last part about the dwarf. That he is going to comment on. ]

You let Oakenshield guard your son?!

[ Thranduil looks like he might very well be regretting the idea, even as he replies with a sigh perpetually buried somewhere in his throat when it comes to That Particular Dwarf. ]

The very worst he will do is give him overzealous dreams of braiding his hair. [ Wry as he sounds, there is a distinct lack of enmity toward Thorin in Thranduil's tone; it's all rote, the exasperation, and he can do little but find himself resigned. ] In any case ... Oakenshield is honourable.

And I had few choices before me when I left within the hour.

[ The absence of it is stark, and the fact that he notices makes Celeborn a little uncomfortable, although he does his best to smother the mental wince. Shedding his own prejudices against the dwarven race is an ongoing, sometimes painful process. ]

I will consider myself placated [ temporarily ] on your word, then. When do you expect to return to the castle?

[ He flicks the locket to a private setting, Just because. Nosy shorties, etc. ]

Thorin is many things, I have found. Rude, stubborn, disagreeable, and entirely without humility, but he will not allow harm to come to Legolas. My son has a way with dwarves, as you yourself know. [ A short, stifled laugh. ] Perhaps if I were laid out there, it would be a different story.

I will arrive back when the Seelie rulers beckon me.

[ Can you hear how happy he is about that, Celeborn? Yeah, brah. He is being rubbed all the wrong ways by the Seelie monarchs. ]

Your son has a way with everyone, Thranduil. It borders on the supernatural, this gift.

[ While his tone is teasing, the older elf does, in fact, believe that Legolas ability to spin the bond of friendship with nearly everyone he meets is truly a gift from the Valar. ]

And if I beckoned? [ Entreated. Asked politely. If there are alliances to be forged, then Celeborn will start with his own kinsman. ] Would you be willing to meet with me somewhere ... neutral?

Edited 2014-10-25 19:21 (UTC)

[ He really couldn't put Legolas's gifts in a better light than Celeborn does now, that much is true. ]

If you beckoned, I would be there in an instant, but the way is barred until this nonsense in orc-lands is done. I very much wish to be clear of here, you know that.

[ It's like being on the cusp of Mordor, and quite apart from loathing the Desolate Lands they twist his lungs in such a way at times that Thranduil finds it hard to breathe. ]

Will you show patience with me, until my time is my own once again?

I did not mean --

[ How easily one forgets that they are in the midst of a war, with fronts on all sides. While it is tempting to blame this long overdue conversation on his lack of wits, Celeborn is aware that elves literally cannot forget anything, and that his own reluctance stems from weariness of conflict in general. ]

Of course. You need not ask, I would do so gladly.

[ Just stay safe :| ]

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