thranduil oropherion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rowancrowned) wrote2015-03-22 06:02 pm
rowancrowned) wrote2015-03-22 06:02 pm
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( laughter, bright as bells. shocked, briefly, by honesty, the flash of soft and vulnerable underbelly. it leaves his voice warm when he follows up: )
Some hidden nobility to confess, my friend?
Some hidden nobility to confess, my friend?
Ahah. Not quite....
[Well. No more than what Thranduil knows already, anyway: the pettier details of being a Magistrate, what little Astarion can remember.
So it’s chased by a milder sound. A thin puff of air let out through his nose.]
I’m not—
[Cut off, the start of his intended confession: eclipsed owing to a nearby peal of high-voiced laughter, spilling as surely as the wine that passing attendee is presently splashing all over the lip of their glass.
Right. Public soirée. The mission itself. There’s a better time and place to have this conversation.]
We’ll talk later, darling. Promise.
[And with that, he’s gone.]
[Well. No more than what Thranduil knows already, anyway: the pettier details of being a Magistrate, what little Astarion can remember.
So it’s chased by a milder sound. A thin puff of air let out through his nose.]
I’m not—
[Cut off, the start of his intended confession: eclipsed owing to a nearby peal of high-voiced laughter, spilling as surely as the wine that passing attendee is presently splashing all over the lip of their glass.
Right. Public soirée. The mission itself. There’s a better time and place to have this conversation.]
We’ll talk later, darling. Promise.
[And with that, he’s gone.]
Myrobalan Shivana.
( near immediate response. )
Does someone have need of it?
( near immediate response. )
Does someone have need of it?
Motherfucker.
( —is not, actually, aimed at thranduil. at the ceiling of the room she's in, resigned, because she'd had a feeling it was probably going to be,
well, at least it wasn't solas. she wonders, absently, what shivana is up to these days. probably not any war crimes. )
It's an unusual spell, isn't it? Not just any mage would know it.
( girl, he asked you a question. )
( —is not, actually, aimed at thranduil. at the ceiling of the room she's in, resigned, because she'd had a feeling it was probably going to be,
well, at least it wasn't solas. she wonders, absently, what shivana is up to these days. probably not any war crimes. )
It's an unusual spell, isn't it? Not just any mage would know it.
( girl, he asked you a question. )
He fit a narrow set of qualifications: elven, impeccable reputation, and able to do it.
( ‘willing to’ fell under being elven, and being persuadable by thranduil. )
Correct. I watched, for what it is worth, which is little. You will need a mage who was trusted enough in their Circle to be taught.
Most of them are dead, I suspect. Myr and I have not corresponded in several years. He was reluctant enough to do it the first time.
( ‘willing to’ fell under being elven, and being persuadable by thranduil. )
Correct. I watched, for what it is worth, which is little. You will need a mage who was trusted enough in their Circle to be taught.
Most of them are dead, I suspect. Myr and I have not corresponded in several years. He was reluctant enough to do it the first time.
Who is it for?
( talk to him just a little longer, please. )
( talk to him just a little longer, please. )
( he can hear the breath she takes, the moment of consideration. the willingness to, having got what she wants, just hang up on him.
but. )
We know that it can be done to rifters. ( is remarkably more even than the last time they discussed his phylactery. ) I want to know if it can be done to an anchored Thedosian, or a rifter that's no longer got one.
( wysteria no longer has an anchor-shard. and gwenaëlle is the one doing the asking and the side-stepping of specific answers, so maybe it's obvious who the other person is going to be. )
but. )
We know that it can be done to rifters. ( is remarkably more even than the last time they discussed his phylactery. ) I want to know if it can be done to an anchored Thedosian, or a rifter that's no longer got one.
( wysteria no longer has an anchor-shard. and gwenaëlle is the one doing the asking and the side-stepping of specific answers, so maybe it's obvious who the other person is going to be. )
( he’s eager, when he speaks. it comes out slightly rushed. )
Will you destroy it, when you have your answer?
Will you destroy it, when you have your answer?
( the delay isn't because she doesn't know, it's because she's trying to work out what answer he wants to hear and avoid giving it to him.
in the end, )
Obviously. Anything else is exquisitely fucking stupid.
( the lampshade swings violently, etc. )
in the end, )
Obviously. Anything else is exquisitely fucking stupid.
( the lampshade swings violently, etc. )
( he makes a noise, the ‘considering my mental phonebook’ noise. she knows how long to wait. )
None at the moment. Be well. I would like to know of your success?
None at the moment. Be well. I would like to know of your success?
That does not entitle me to information you might have otherwise preferred I not take an interest in.
( he knows that tone! he missed that tone. )
If there is any other way I may be of assistance, you only need ask. I am, after all, in Research.
If there is any other way I may be of assistance, you only need ask. I am, after all, in Research.
( on the evening of satinalia, guilfoyle delivers to thranduil's gallows room: leviathan the nug, a jewelry box containing gwenaëlle's heartbeat ring, a bottle of bordeaux and an orlesian mask in a simple style, easily altered to be uuseful in any number of possible satinalia costumes. )
( it doesn't require a signature. )
- I am considering the possibility of publishing poems including some that were written during our relationship, in retrospect. I'm doing you the courtesy of allowing you to find out other than in the event of their publication.
Happy Satinalia.
( it doesn't require a signature. )
Edited 2022-11-01 05:17 (UTC)
( not immediately, but within hours of thranduil's (re?)emergence onto the crystal network of riftwatch, several fabric packages make their way to his current sleeping arrangements. neatly folded clothing, tailored to fit and of his style, clean enough but with the particular, mild scent of mustiness that comes with having been set in a cupboard somewhere, disused. not enough clothing to represent an entire wardrobe preserved; select pieces that someone (tall, gaunt, and not without sentiment even if often without expression of it), perhaps, had decided were too finely embroidered or particularly made to be surrendered to repurposing. a few items* of presumably mysterious significance, and a note pinned to a folded jacket: )
- Mssr Thranduil, ( his name written in his own script, standing out amongst workmanlike slashes of thedosian print, written in orlesian: )
These may prove of some use to you.
fELIX
*
whatever you'd like these to be!Mssr. Thranduil. I understand you've signed on to the Research division — may I ask your intended focus?
Knowledge, by way of working the tasks assigned to me. I do not intend to be a fool.
A pity, I've a very fetching cape and bells. Allow me to rephrase: Those tasks, your areas of specialty. What are they?
I am able to read and write and do figures. I acted as my lord's seneschal for many years with all that entails. I have good sight and a clear memory. What is needed?
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