(Elvenking)—❧ Thranduil Oropherion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
firith) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
eachdraidh2014-04-25 03:05 pm
firith) wrote in eachdraidh2014-04-25 03:05 pm
❧ video; 02
[ Thranduil has been recovering from the multiple wounds suffered from almost getting devoured by a particularly large worm. Now the attacks have tapered off to nothing and the castle is being rebuilt, the Elvenking is healing a lot faster. He sits before a tall open window in his quarters, long hair brushed over warm, thick silver robes. Perhaps a little paler than usual, but otherwise one wouldn't think he had been treated like a dog-toy by a monster.
He does not lock the broadcast to Seelie, inviting their enemies to speak simply by omitting a decline. ]
I hope that all those who fought the worms are similarly on the mend. I should like to request a moment of your time, Khaleesi, on an unrelated matter, and to ask —
Nan ear adh in elin! Anthedh vîr mi 'uren.
[ A younger voice bursts unexpectedly over the locket from near the window. Thranduil glances aside without turning his head, brows raised; the infiltrator is shortly revealed to be none other than his son, Legolas, chatting to birds on the window-sill as they give him little gifts of fruits in their beaks.#elves tho Though the language devolves into native Sindarin, the tone set by the conversation is one of a universal 'son, please, not now'. ]
No dhínen, Legolas.
[ Legolas only laughs, unafraid by the rebuff. ] Tolo, govano ven!!
Ú-iston. [ Easing back in his winged armchair, Thranduil rests fingertips by a temple, speaking askance to the figure. ] O van oduleg? N'uir thiad gîn 'ell ...
Iston! [ —exclaims Legolas, throwing his head back with laughter at his father's dry would-be sarcasm. ]
Gi nathlam hi, tolo enni. [ — sighs Thranduil, holding out his free hand to beckon his son over. (And Legolas does a fine job of crawling right up onto the arm-rest, slouching into Thranduil's personal space as only a fearless child can do, gaining a glance from the Elvenking). Continuing, Thranduil looks to the locket. ] As I was saying —
[ The wounded noise Legolas makes, straightening in his seat to complain as he notices he is being videoed, is enough to get a sharp look from Thranduil in exasperation. ]
Man cerir hí? Ai, nínion!!
[ Thranduil retains his pokerface of a cool, elevated brow as his son slides out of view as though shot through the heart. ]
What are you eating that is making you so dramatic, I wonder. [ Clearly nothing else is going to get done today while his son is intent on hovering around like abothersome nursemaid as Thranduil heals, so the locket is smartly snapped shut on the tail-end of the Elvenking's mutter. ] I am not going to pick up a thousand-year-old Elf — one of the Nine Walkers and Prince of the Woodland Realm — off the floor, Legolas ...
( OOC: Hover your cursor over the Elvish if you want to read it! A couple of people wanted to hear Sindarin being spoken on behalf of their characters' interest in it, so we collaborated on a light-hearted post. c; Responses will come mainly from Thranduil with Legolas threadjacking here and there, over his shoulder, from the same locket. )
He does not lock the broadcast to Seelie, inviting their enemies to speak simply by omitting a decline. ]
I hope that all those who fought the worms are similarly on the mend. I should like to request a moment of your time, Khaleesi, on an unrelated matter, and to ask —
Nan ear adh in elin! Anthedh vîr mi 'uren.
[ A younger voice bursts unexpectedly over the locket from near the window. Thranduil glances aside without turning his head, brows raised; the infiltrator is shortly revealed to be none other than his son, Legolas, chatting to birds on the window-sill as they give him little gifts of fruits in their beaks.
No dhínen, Legolas.
[ Legolas only laughs, unafraid by the rebuff. ] Tolo, govano ven!!
Ú-iston. [ Easing back in his winged armchair, Thranduil rests fingertips by a temple, speaking askance to the figure. ] O van oduleg? N'uir thiad gîn 'ell ...
Iston! [ —exclaims Legolas, throwing his head back with laughter at his father's dry would-be sarcasm. ]
Gi nathlam hi, tolo enni. [ — sighs Thranduil, holding out his free hand to beckon his son over. (And Legolas does a fine job of crawling right up onto the arm-rest, slouching into Thranduil's personal space as only a fearless child can do, gaining a glance from the Elvenking). Continuing, Thranduil looks to the locket. ] As I was saying —
[ The wounded noise Legolas makes, straightening in his seat to complain as he notices he is being videoed, is enough to get a sharp look from Thranduil in exasperation. ]
Man cerir hí? Ai, nínion!!
[ Thranduil retains his pokerface of a cool, elevated brow as his son slides out of view as though shot through the heart. ]
What are you eating that is making you so dramatic, I wonder. [ Clearly nothing else is going to get done today while his son is intent on hovering around like a
( OOC: Hover your cursor over the Elvish if you want to read it! A couple of people wanted to hear Sindarin being spoken on behalf of their characters' interest in it, so we collaborated on a light-hearted post. c; Responses will come mainly from Thranduil with Legolas threadjacking here and there, over his shoulder, from the same locket. )
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They are disappointed that ada says their gifts litter his room.
[ Is he serious? Or is he joking? Hard to say. ]
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