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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[ She closes her eyes as he begins to comb her hair, slowly relaxing as she settles into her place. It's a comfortable one. Peaceful--safe, even. Like the things that trouble her can't quite reach past the door.
Thranduil's advice and gentle reproach is...expected, and more polite than it could have been. It's also very true, and Beleth has to stop herself from nodding, lest she mess up the combing somehow. It was even worse for Middle Earth, that much Beleth knew. But it was still a bad idea, here. It was something she'd known, even when she'd gone to speak with Alistair. ]
The Lady Galadriel mentioned that she had a friend whose daughter made such a choice. I couldn't imagine having immortality and... [ She drifts off for a moment, before going back to the original subject. Because she probably doesn't have the right to question the choices of elves she had never met. ] ...You're right. I told myself that, but. Wardens are...different. The Dalish have had allied with them from the beginning. And Alistair, in particular, has not only helped take down an archdemon, but while working towards that, he and his group helped save a Dalish clan from werewolves.
I had hoped--It would be different. And that, out of all the humans, my mother...I don't know if she would approve, but surely she would not begrudge him too much. That he would be different from the regular humans. He's...a lot better about elves than other humans.
[ The knowledge of his parentage is on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows it. While she trusts Thranduil, she made a promise--and she planned on keeping that promise, unto death. ]
But it doesn't matter. You're right, it probably wouldn't have worked, anyway.
Thranduil's advice and gentle reproach is...expected, and more polite than it could have been. It's also very true, and Beleth has to stop herself from nodding, lest she mess up the combing somehow. It was even worse for Middle Earth, that much Beleth knew. But it was still a bad idea, here. It was something she'd known, even when she'd gone to speak with Alistair. ]
The Lady Galadriel mentioned that she had a friend whose daughter made such a choice. I couldn't imagine having immortality and... [ She drifts off for a moment, before going back to the original subject. Because she probably doesn't have the right to question the choices of elves she had never met. ] ...You're right. I told myself that, but. Wardens are...different. The Dalish have had allied with them from the beginning. And Alistair, in particular, has not only helped take down an archdemon, but while working towards that, he and his group helped save a Dalish clan from werewolves.
I had hoped--It would be different. And that, out of all the humans, my mother...I don't know if she would approve, but surely she would not begrudge him too much. That he would be different from the regular humans. He's...a lot better about elves than other humans.
[ The knowledge of his parentage is on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows it. While she trusts Thranduil, she made a promise--and she planned on keeping that promise, unto death. ]
But it doesn't matter. You're right, it probably wouldn't have worked, anyway.
[ numbered among his talents is this: he can turn a place into a sanctuary. granted, he has not warded the room- well, more than he wards anything- but it is still his space, and beleth one of his elves, so it will do. he does not falter, his hand remains steady, allowing for any extra movements on her part. ]
Lúthien, [ he says, and does not sound mournful. ] I did not understand the fascination between them, for he was but a child to her eight centuries-- what could she see in him? What sophistication could he possess?
[ he does not say 'they were not equals'. little pitchers have big ears, and besides, the situation hardly compares- neither he nor galadriel intend or even can tie themselves romantically to these elves. they can, when allowed, mentor them.
satisfied with the smoothness of her hair, he begins to braid, his fingers working quickly. ]
'Better' is not... my dear, you deserve someone who sees you as a whole being. As worthy of respect. And equal. What Men have done in this world is disgraceful.
Lúthien, [ he says, and does not sound mournful. ] I did not understand the fascination between them, for he was but a child to her eight centuries-- what could she see in him? What sophistication could he possess?
[ he does not say 'they were not equals'. little pitchers have big ears, and besides, the situation hardly compares- neither he nor galadriel intend or even can tie themselves romantically to these elves. they can, when allowed, mentor them.
satisfied with the smoothness of her hair, he begins to braid, his fingers working quickly. ]
'Better' is not... my dear, you deserve someone who sees you as a whole being. As worthy of respect. And equal. What Men have done in this world is disgraceful.
Eight centuries. [ She murmurs it in wonder. ] I can't imagine living that long. If I were that old, I would have seen the Dales--And seen it fall, I suppose. [ She frowns. She couldn't imagine what that must have been like for her ancestors. ] Maybe...It's a good thing I never had to see that.
[ Her kneejerk reaction is to tell Thranduil that she isn't equal, or all that worthy, or--anything all that amazing, she is just one elf in a sea of amazing people. But--that's arguing with Thranduil, which would be pretty rude, considering.
Besides. Humans have done some pretty disgraceful shit. ]
You're right. I just...need to wait. It'll be okay. I have time. I just wish there were more Dalish here. Or elves, really.
[ There were currently two Dalish men that Beleth knew of, one being gay and the other being a former fuckbuddy, which is not something she is going to explain to Thranduil. ]
[ Her kneejerk reaction is to tell Thranduil that she isn't equal, or all that worthy, or--anything all that amazing, she is just one elf in a sea of amazing people. But--that's arguing with Thranduil, which would be pretty rude, considering.
Besides. Humans have done some pretty disgraceful shit. ]
You're right. I just...need to wait. It'll be okay. I have time. I just wish there were more Dalish here. Or elves, really.
[ There were currently two Dalish men that Beleth knew of, one being gay and the other being a former fuckbuddy, which is not something she is going to explain to Thranduil. ]
In times of war, it will seem like a very long time. [ all the losses, piling atop one another, the endless running, following his father with the last of the sinda of doriath who had followed them, his knives and bows constant companions-- he slips near into reverie without realizing it, but comes back to himself smoothly. he pinches the braid between thumb and forefingers, running his hand through his hair and returning with a strand that he uses to bind the first braid up for lack of other options, then takes another lock, starting the braid that means 'hunter'. ] In peace, it will pass in an instant.
[ he realizes, amused, that he's hardly had his age come up. cyril, he may have told, but what's the point? curious, he asks: ] How many years do you think I've lived?
[ he hums, softly, a few notes from the lay, and yes, he'd be able to grasp the concept but the explanation would be... an interesting demonstration of just how embarrassed beleth could get. ]
I cannot help but wish one of my marchwardens might come to Thedas. His help would be immeasurably useful-- and there is one in particular I would have liked for you to meet. When is the next gathering? There ought to be plenty of young men for you to meet then. Or perhaps someone from the city?
[ he realizes, amused, that he's hardly had his age come up. cyril, he may have told, but what's the point? curious, he asks: ] How many years do you think I've lived?
[ he hums, softly, a few notes from the lay, and yes, he'd be able to grasp the concept but the explanation would be... an interesting demonstration of just how embarrassed beleth could get. ]
I cannot help but wish one of my marchwardens might come to Thedas. His help would be immeasurably useful-- and there is one in particular I would have liked for you to meet. When is the next gathering? There ought to be plenty of young men for you to meet then. Or perhaps someone from the city?
It feels like Thedas spends more time in war than not. There's always one part of it that's fighting against another part. [ Through Tevinter fighting the Qunari, or Fereldan fighting Orlais--or mages fighting Templars. ] Does Middle Earth have more peace?
[ At the question of his age, she hesitates, almost spinning around to look at him, as though that would give her any indication of the exact number. But she stays still, frowning up at the ceiling in thought. She knew he was immortal, like the Elvhen of old, but the scale of just how old the elves could be was simply out of her scope. How could someone who only had a handful of decades grasp living over thousands upon thousands of years?
She would have guessed--maybe 500? That seemed impossibly old, but the way he'd spoken of Luthien being 800...She clicked her tongue in thought, then hesitantly offered: ]
Maybe...A thousand? That'd be...before we even started using ages to keep track of the years.
[ Distant, impossible ages were all but forgotten in light of a much more relevant topic: herself. And people. And people interacting with her. This time, she does end up pulling away from Thranduil so she can stare at him, face a mixture of embarrassment and alarm. ]
I--? Um. Well--If you think so. I'd be honored--? If I met them. But. I mean, it'll be fine. The next arlathvhen...I'm not sure, but the Keeper said that with everything that's been going on, they're talking about moving it forward. There's a lot to discuss. A fl--city elf wouldn't be terrible, if they'd be willing to come to the clan. But surely they would want to escape the alienage?
But this is all assuming the Keeper doesn't find someone first. So if all else fails, there's always that option.
[ She sounds much less dismal about it than Cyril did. It's not like her mother would ever force her to bond to someone. And she always seemed to know what was best for Beleth, moreso than she did herself. ]
[ At the question of his age, she hesitates, almost spinning around to look at him, as though that would give her any indication of the exact number. But she stays still, frowning up at the ceiling in thought. She knew he was immortal, like the Elvhen of old, but the scale of just how old the elves could be was simply out of her scope. How could someone who only had a handful of decades grasp living over thousands upon thousands of years?
She would have guessed--maybe 500? That seemed impossibly old, but the way he'd spoken of Luthien being 800...She clicked her tongue in thought, then hesitantly offered: ]
Maybe...A thousand? That'd be...before we even started using ages to keep track of the years.
[ Distant, impossible ages were all but forgotten in light of a much more relevant topic: herself. And people. And people interacting with her. This time, she does end up pulling away from Thranduil so she can stare at him, face a mixture of embarrassment and alarm. ]
I--? Um. Well--If you think so. I'd be honored--? If I met them. But. I mean, it'll be fine. The next arlathvhen...I'm not sure, but the Keeper said that with everything that's been going on, they're talking about moving it forward. There's a lot to discuss. A fl--city elf wouldn't be terrible, if they'd be willing to come to the clan. But surely they would want to escape the alienage?
But this is all assuming the Keeper doesn't find someone first. So if all else fails, there's always that option.
[ She sounds much less dismal about it than Cyril did. It's not like her mother would ever force her to bond to someone. And she always seemed to know what was best for Beleth, moreso than she did herself. ]
[ he smiles—or, his lips curl, and he looks haunted, though she cannot see. he is staring off into some other time, more there than here when he says: ] There has only ever been one war.
[ for the elves, at least. he catches himself and soothes his glamour back into calm amusement, lips tilting into a smile. ] Nearer to seven.
[ one thousand is nothing to him now, but beleth’s comment does cheer him some, and he’s merrier as he starts on the other side of her hair, trying to arrange it into something that both suits her and respects her position. it’s turning out quite well, in his opinion. ]
A …? [ he leads, having not quite caught the first half of what she said and supposing it just as interesting as the rest. ] How arranged are your betrothals? Are you offered a selection, or one only?
[ for the elves, at least. he catches himself and soothes his glamour back into calm amusement, lips tilting into a smile. ] Nearer to seven.
[ one thousand is nothing to him now, but beleth’s comment does cheer him some, and he’s merrier as he starts on the other side of her hair, trying to arrange it into something that both suits her and respects her position. it’s turning out quite well, in his opinion. ]
A …? [ he leads, having not quite caught the first half of what she said and supposing it just as interesting as the rest. ] How arranged are your betrothals? Are you offered a selection, or one only?
[ Only having one war seems to be too good to be true, but Beleth knows that even one war is, really, one war too many. She can't see Thranduil's expression, but--she drops the subject. War isn't a pleasant topic, no matter what.
Furthermore, she's distracted by the, quite frankly, ridiculous age that Thranduil actually is, and sputters. ] Seven--Seven thousand? That's--Humans hadn't even arrived in Thedas by then! That's amazing.
Um. It was just. Another word for city elf. But, um. Not...polite. At least, to city elves. [ But the Dalish used it as often as 'shemlen', and Beleth used it among other Dalish freely. Maybe the city elves should just stop being so SENSITIVE. ]
Oh--It's more like matchmaking, really. It's all optional. And plenty of people bond without outside interference. But if you're still single by a certain age and you haven't really shown much success on your own, sometimes Keepers will...try to help you along. They usually just ask around to other Keepers, if they have any single people around your age, and they might pick someone they think would suit you. Then they'll bring it up with you, and have the two of you meet, and see how you get along.
We're not shemlen, we don't force anyone to agree to a match. You can say no, or break off at any point in the engagement. [ What Beleth doesn't mention is that refusing is entirely dependent on your willingness to snub your Keeper and what they think is best for you. Which. Can be difficult. ]
Furthermore, she's distracted by the, quite frankly, ridiculous age that Thranduil actually is, and sputters. ] Seven--Seven thousand? That's--Humans hadn't even arrived in Thedas by then! That's amazing.
Um. It was just. Another word for city elf. But, um. Not...polite. At least, to city elves. [ But the Dalish used it as often as 'shemlen', and Beleth used it among other Dalish freely. Maybe the city elves should just stop being so SENSITIVE. ]
Oh--It's more like matchmaking, really. It's all optional. And plenty of people bond without outside interference. But if you're still single by a certain age and you haven't really shown much success on your own, sometimes Keepers will...try to help you along. They usually just ask around to other Keepers, if they have any single people around your age, and they might pick someone they think would suit you. Then they'll bring it up with you, and have the two of you meet, and see how you get along.
We're not shemlen, we don't force anyone to agree to a match. You can say no, or break off at any point in the engagement. [ What Beleth doesn't mention is that refusing is entirely dependent on your willingness to snub your Keeper and what they think is best for you. Which. Can be difficult. ]
[ he appreciates not having to speak of sauron-- he would answer her questions willingly enough, because he welcomes her curiosity, but sauron and melkor have always been--
evil can be summoned by simply speaking of it. and if thedas cannot handle corypheus, it certainly cannot handle melkor or sauron, and he is loath to allow even the slightest hint of risk with these elves who are so precious and so fragile. ]
There were no Men was I was young. It was [ pause. ] preferable.
[ he finishes with her hair, securing it in place with a twist and knot, and then settles his hands on his knees, leaning back and taking his looking glass, offering it to beleth handle-first. ]
They are your kin too, Beleth. gently, as always. I suspect they have words for the Dalish that you dislike.
[ he will make them get along if he has to put every elf into a giant get-along shirt. ]
And how many break off the engagement?
evil can be summoned by simply speaking of it. and if thedas cannot handle corypheus, it certainly cannot handle melkor or sauron, and he is loath to allow even the slightest hint of risk with these elves who are so precious and so fragile. ]
There were no Men was I was young. It was [ pause. ] preferable.
[ he finishes with her hair, securing it in place with a twist and knot, and then settles his hands on his knees, leaning back and taking his looking glass, offering it to beleth handle-first. ]
They are your kin too, Beleth. gently, as always. I suspect they have words for the Dalish that you dislike.
[ he will make them get along if he has to put every elf into a giant get-along shirt. ]
And how many break off the engagement?
[ It takes a few days after they first arrive in this possible future for the Outsider to have both the presence of mind and the ability to reach out to Thranduil. Magebane is a heady thing, but they have hidden in Kirkwall and his magic returns to him, black returning to his eyes.
He is not fully recovered when he reaches out. He doesn't care. Corvo is accounted for, alive but not well. What of Thranduil?
The statue he had given him after Halamshiral was meant for this; crafted by his hands, small but sturdy. It should not, by all rights, move. Yet it does, magic breathing into it a sort of life -- which means the statue is clearing its throat, wherever Thranduil might have it. ]
I hear it has been a few years, my friend.
[ The face on the statue is unmistakably the Outsider, but that's to be expected. The voice is probably more surprising. ]
He is not fully recovered when he reaches out. He doesn't care. Corvo is accounted for, alive but not well. What of Thranduil?
The statue he had given him after Halamshiral was meant for this; crafted by his hands, small but sturdy. It should not, by all rights, move. Yet it does, magic breathing into it a sort of life -- which means the statue is clearing its throat, wherever Thranduil might have it. ]
I hear it has been a few years, my friend.
[ The face on the statue is unmistakably the Outsider, but that's to be expected. The voice is probably more surprising. ]
[ the outsider will see: thranduil, leaning against the side of an aravel, wrapped in a fur, cleaning his sword. the outsider— the statue— is perched on a swatch of cloth cut roughly from the one used at skyhold; a few shards of driftwood and carved bone sit haphazard on it, as if someone were using them to cast fortunes.
thranduil's eyes flick up— he's slow. between the moment he sees and the moment he reaches for his sword, there's an unacceptable gap, the pause that would have cost him his life anywhere else.
but that voice.
the inside of the aravel is tiny, so he cannot stand. but he does reach out for the statue, sword set to the side. ]
Duinenor. [ he wants to believe. ]
thranduil's eyes flick up— he's slow. between the moment he sees and the moment he reaches for his sword, there's an unacceptable gap, the pause that would have cost him his life anywhere else.
but that voice.
the inside of the aravel is tiny, so he cannot stand. but he does reach out for the statue, sword set to the side. ]
Duinenor. [ he wants to believe. ]
Thranduil.
[ There he is -- he looks the same, though the surroundings are new. At least he is not corrupted with red lyrium, not dead, not a prisoner. The statue smiles softly, inclines its head; yes, it's him. ]
None of us who went to Haven on the mission died, as you all thought we did. There must have been something wrong with the Veil between this world and the Fade; I've seen it in my own world, places where large works of magic have made the Void bleed in, have made time go back and forth.
This is a future, [ a, not the, because he has no intention of letting it get like this ] and we are from your past. We were shoved forward in time against our will. We're in Kirkwall, at the moment, having been captured. I suspect we will be making quite a bit of noise and then heading toward where the rest of the Inquisition is soon.
[ The statue stills for a moment, and then one hand comes up, rubs at the back of its neck. It's a hasty explanation, though no less true. It does not truly give weight to the emotions, the harshness of this present -- but to be fair, the Outsider often doesn't do that even when he has the time to do so. ]
Whatever you are doing -- we must get back to Haven. This can be changed.
[ There he is -- he looks the same, though the surroundings are new. At least he is not corrupted with red lyrium, not dead, not a prisoner. The statue smiles softly, inclines its head; yes, it's him. ]
None of us who went to Haven on the mission died, as you all thought we did. There must have been something wrong with the Veil between this world and the Fade; I've seen it in my own world, places where large works of magic have made the Void bleed in, have made time go back and forth.
This is a future, [ a, not the, because he has no intention of letting it get like this ] and we are from your past. We were shoved forward in time against our will. We're in Kirkwall, at the moment, having been captured. I suspect we will be making quite a bit of noise and then heading toward where the rest of the Inquisition is soon.
[ The statue stills for a moment, and then one hand comes up, rubs at the back of its neck. It's a hasty explanation, though no less true. It does not truly give weight to the emotions, the harshness of this present -- but to be fair, the Outsider often doesn't do that even when he has the time to do so. ]
Whatever you are doing -- we must get back to Haven. This can be changed.
[ he settles back against the aravel's side, brows raised. it speaks with the outsider's voice, the mannerisms are his. he has not forgotten the outsider, how he moved, how his smile softened his face when it was not bitter. he listens through the explanation as his world shatters; reforms, as all the work of the past years is swept away and he is left...
hopeful? no, concerned, a tight expression on his face, this changes everything.
he has many, many questions, but they have a limited amount of time, and there is so much that must be stopped, and other things that must be started. ]
A future. Will it be... undone if you are able to return, or will we remain?
hopeful? no, concerned, a tight expression on his face, this changes everything.
he has many, many questions, but they have a limited amount of time, and there is so much that must be stopped, and other things that must be started. ]
A future. Will it be... undone if you are able to return, or will we remain?
Undone.
[ At least, he would think so. This is their timeline in places it could have gone but will not, with their presence both here and in the past. It could continue, next to the timeline he will return to -- but the Outsider has never known time to be that way. He has seen so many possibilities, but there is only ever one end. ]
There is another rifter here who insists that this is not related to magic at all, but I have seen things like this before. There is no science here that explains how we were thrust forward into the future. His understanding of time is- that of his worlds, I imagine, but it is fixed there. He insists that we can change nothing, that to try would erase ourselves.
I disagree. I have seen things like this before. I have watched one bleak future become something less so. Even if I did not, the others that I am with have no intention of letting this be the fate of Thedas and the Inquisition.
[ There is no doubt there. The Outsider is certain of all of this, but he needs Thranduil to be warned, just in case. Some may listen, may decide that sending them back is not the correct thing to do. They may well need Thranduil's aid, should it come to it.
The statue closes its eyes for a moment, fingers pinching the bridge of its nose. When the hand is dropped and the Outsider's voice comes again, it is a bit softer. ]
Forgive me. Five years may seem as nothing in many cases, but- I imagine it is not so, with how things have been.
[ At least, he would think so. This is their timeline in places it could have gone but will not, with their presence both here and in the past. It could continue, next to the timeline he will return to -- but the Outsider has never known time to be that way. He has seen so many possibilities, but there is only ever one end. ]
There is another rifter here who insists that this is not related to magic at all, but I have seen things like this before. There is no science here that explains how we were thrust forward into the future. His understanding of time is- that of his worlds, I imagine, but it is fixed there. He insists that we can change nothing, that to try would erase ourselves.
I disagree. I have seen things like this before. I have watched one bleak future become something less so. Even if I did not, the others that I am with have no intention of letting this be the fate of Thedas and the Inquisition.
[ There is no doubt there. The Outsider is certain of all of this, but he needs Thranduil to be warned, just in case. Some may listen, may decide that sending them back is not the correct thing to do. They may well need Thranduil's aid, should it come to it.
The statue closes its eyes for a moment, fingers pinching the bridge of its nose. When the hand is dropped and the Outsider's voice comes again, it is a bit softer. ]
Forgive me. Five years may seem as nothing in many cases, but- I imagine it is not so, with how things have been.
You have seen this before. I remember you telling me of all that had occurred. It was not so long ago.
[ his eyes close, he sheathes his sword and pushes the belt to the side; leans in, arms resting loosely on his crossed legs. ]
You must be sure, Duinenor. You must be able to give me your word with near perfect certainty that all of this will be undone. I have not sat idly by. The Quendi have not done nothing in these years. If we give you all we have, we cannot put our own plans into motion.
[ he appreciates the apology, waves it off with a flutter of fingers; the outsider has nothing to be sorry about this. he chooses his words carefully. ]
Galadriel and Thingol learned their Craft at the feet of the Valar, in the elder days. They are able to do things I cannot. But split between the Fade and the waking world, we are cut off from our gifts. If the Veil is torn enough that they can draw upon their Craft to the fullest extent of their talents, we could burn the Blight from Thedas, sink Tevinter into the sea. All of this [ he gestures, sharp and quick. ] would be an advantage. All could be put to rights.
[ elves, again, on top. every disadvantage now a strength. he is deadly serious, eyes on the statue's. ]
If you give me your word that this need not be, everything that is mine is yours, mellon-nin.
[ his eyes close, he sheathes his sword and pushes the belt to the side; leans in, arms resting loosely on his crossed legs. ]
You must be sure, Duinenor. You must be able to give me your word with near perfect certainty that all of this will be undone. I have not sat idly by. The Quendi have not done nothing in these years. If we give you all we have, we cannot put our own plans into motion.
[ he appreciates the apology, waves it off with a flutter of fingers; the outsider has nothing to be sorry about this. he chooses his words carefully. ]
Galadriel and Thingol learned their Craft at the feet of the Valar, in the elder days. They are able to do things I cannot. But split between the Fade and the waking world, we are cut off from our gifts. If the Veil is torn enough that they can draw upon their Craft to the fullest extent of their talents, we could burn the Blight from Thedas, sink Tevinter into the sea. All of this [ he gestures, sharp and quick. ] would be an advantage. All could be put to rights.
[ elves, again, on top. every disadvantage now a strength. he is deadly serious, eyes on the statue's. ]
If you give me your word that this need not be, everything that is mine is yours, mellon-nin.
Edited 2017-02-07 04:26 (UTC)
[ Thranduil's plan is dangerous. It is the kind of danger that would have moved him to act, in his own world; to whisper a name into the ear of a Marked passed from favor, to give the gift of magic to a man in a jail cell or an empress on the run.
Luckily for them both, he is already acting. Luckily for them both, Thranduil will willingly set aside his plan should the Outsider only promise him one thing.
He is as certain that this will all be undone as he is certain that ripping down the Veil will not truly put anything to rights -- not for those already so wronged. He nods once, sharp. ]
I promise you, my friend; this need not be.
[ And if it comes to pass despite this, the Outsider will be there. He will find a way.
Still. It's never stopped him from asking questions. ]
I was drugged, in the prison; cut off completely from my magic. You say that you are split between the Fade and the waking world, and that has some effect? How did you come to know this?
Luckily for them both, he is already acting. Luckily for them both, Thranduil will willingly set aside his plan should the Outsider only promise him one thing.
He is as certain that this will all be undone as he is certain that ripping down the Veil will not truly put anything to rights -- not for those already so wronged. He nods once, sharp. ]
I promise you, my friend; this need not be.
[ And if it comes to pass despite this, the Outsider will be there. He will find a way.
Still. It's never stopped him from asking questions. ]
I was drugged, in the prison; cut off completely from my magic. You say that you are split between the Fade and the waking world, and that has some effect? How did you come to know this?
[ thranduil exhales slowly, five years of planning and work set aside in the face of this promise. he compartmentalizes. he moves on. ]
This other Rifter you spoke of, how likely is he to present a problem? Has he swayed others to his side?
[ thranduil may know him, he may not. his interests have always been... narrow. and pointed. (elves. he likes elves.) either way, he needs to assess this threat and deal with it. not needing to do this, for things to be as they were five years past, it is tempting. too many have died.
he settles in for an explanation, taking up the figure out the outsider itself, setting it down on the box. the cloth and the bone and the wood he arranges before him. up comes the little carving. ]
We are made of the fëa and hröa. The hröa is flesh; impermanent. Failable. [ he knows the outsider can see his scars, he doubts he needs to say more. ] Flawed. The fëa is everything else. What moves the flesh. It is poorly bound to the flesh; an error of the Music. If elves do not sail to Valinor, the fëa will overwhelm the flesh, and burn it out. But the fëa is what allows me to do Craft, to hear the Song.
[ he sets the bone down. ] The Veil nearly severed us from our fëar when we came through the rifts. Whatever bond remains, it is weak. Galadriel, my Lord, and I spent two years making sure. A Templar's silence nearly killing us was a near confirmation, something I learned myself from Alistair, but how Galadriel and I felt whole once more when we fell into the Fade all those years ago was indication enough. Tear the Veil, and we will be able to heal the distance between fëa and hröa enough to call upon our full strength.
This other Rifter you spoke of, how likely is he to present a problem? Has he swayed others to his side?
[ thranduil may know him, he may not. his interests have always been... narrow. and pointed. (elves. he likes elves.) either way, he needs to assess this threat and deal with it. not needing to do this, for things to be as they were five years past, it is tempting. too many have died.
he settles in for an explanation, taking up the figure out the outsider itself, setting it down on the box. the cloth and the bone and the wood he arranges before him. up comes the little carving. ]
We are made of the fëa and hröa. The hröa is flesh; impermanent. Failable. [ he knows the outsider can see his scars, he doubts he needs to say more. ] Flawed. The fëa is everything else. What moves the flesh. It is poorly bound to the flesh; an error of the Music. If elves do not sail to Valinor, the fëa will overwhelm the flesh, and burn it out. But the fëa is what allows me to do Craft, to hear the Song.
[ he sets the bone down. ] The Veil nearly severed us from our fëar when we came through the rifts. Whatever bond remains, it is weak. Galadriel, my Lord, and I spent two years making sure. A Templar's silence nearly killing us was a near confirmation, something I learned myself from Alistair, but how Galadriel and I felt whole once more when we fell into the Fade all those years ago was indication enough. Tear the Veil, and we will be able to heal the distance between fëa and hröa enough to call upon our full strength.
He is loud. Thus far, not very liked. Most would assume this is to do with magic, and have hope that they will not let him stamp out. An irritation, certainly, but so far not more than that.
[ There is a pause and then, fondly: ] Corvo threatened to throw his shoe at him. He was in the dungeons, ready to give up, but the man called me 'simple' and Corvo spoke up.
[ In other words, the Outsider found Corvo, yay. Thranduil has had his cousins. Corvo has had no one, but no longer.
The statue listens, one hand under its chin. The Outsider makes mental notes, ones that may become physical ones, if only because he isn't certain how the transfer back to his actual time will alter his memory.
The news about the Templar has him straighten, though; his fingers flex, a note of agitation. ]
There is a drug here -- magebane. Be wary of it. They drugged us with it, and I could not use my magic; my eyes were no longer black, for the first time in four thousand years. I will tell you of this in the time I will return to, also, but for now- be aware, Thranduil. I will not lose you due to differences in biology.
[ Because that's fucking stupid. ]
What other effects would the Veil being torn down have? The spirits, for example?
[ There is a pause and then, fondly: ] Corvo threatened to throw his shoe at him. He was in the dungeons, ready to give up, but the man called me 'simple' and Corvo spoke up.
[ In other words, the Outsider found Corvo, yay. Thranduil has had his cousins. Corvo has had no one, but no longer.
The statue listens, one hand under its chin. The Outsider makes mental notes, ones that may become physical ones, if only because he isn't certain how the transfer back to his actual time will alter his memory.
The news about the Templar has him straighten, though; his fingers flex, a note of agitation. ]
There is a drug here -- magebane. Be wary of it. They drugged us with it, and I could not use my magic; my eyes were no longer black, for the first time in four thousand years. I will tell you of this in the time I will return to, also, but for now- be aware, Thranduil. I will not lose you due to differences in biology.
[ Because that's fucking stupid. ]
What other effects would the Veil being torn down have? The spirits, for example?
[ he offers, if hesitantly, a response, eyes flicking heavenward. ]It may simply be that 'magic' is the word the ignorant use to describe what they cannot understand.
[ not that he's covering for this rifter. he's the only one allowed to be a pretentious know-it-all, and he'll defend his title. reputation's about all he has left. ]
Ah. He was... presumed lost, returned to your world or dead. But you are so inspiring, it is clear why he took heart. [ he nods, decisive. ] They will not catch me, my friend. Though I will have liked to see you.
[ he's very, very bad at human ages, and mostly depends on height. how had the outsider looked, thranduil wondered, with the shroud of his fea dimmed?
too small, he thinks. ]
You will not lose me.
[ thranduil... smiles. it is not a warm thing, all sharp teeth and a feral set to his face. ]
Nothing Galadriel and my lord will not be able to compensate for. If Solas-- [ but someone went back to sleep, so fuck him. ] ... our options, as they were, were limited. I will admit something like relief at not needing to steel myself for the inevitable... losses.
[ not that he's covering for this rifter. he's the only one allowed to be a pretentious know-it-all, and he'll defend his title. reputation's about all he has left. ]
Ah. He was... presumed lost, returned to your world or dead. But you are so inspiring, it is clear why he took heart. [ he nods, decisive. ] They will not catch me, my friend. Though I will have liked to see you.
[ he's very, very bad at human ages, and mostly depends on height. how had the outsider looked, thranduil wondered, with the shroud of his fea dimmed?
too small, he thinks. ]
You will not lose me.
[ thranduil... smiles. it is not a warm thing, all sharp teeth and a feral set to his face. ]
Nothing Galadriel and my lord will not be able to compensate for. If Solas-- [ but someone went back to sleep, so fuck him. ] ... our options, as they were, were limited. I will admit something like relief at not needing to steel myself for the inevitable... losses.
There are powers in all worlds that men do not understand, that they call magic. Some truly do have their roots in the supernatural, though.
[ No science only magic okay? Okay. ]
Not dead, but imprisoned. He may go to seek out the rescue of another. I will go with him, if he does; with this statue [ and the statue gestures at itself ] we will be able to communicate securely.
I find that I feel- somewhat responsible, for his state. It is one he has been in before, and I do not enjoy seeing him in it a second time.
[ Gotta take care of those pet mortals. You know how it is, right? ]
There may yet be losses. But we will make it as if these years never were -- a small comfort for those who lived them, but it will happen.
[ No science only magic okay? Okay. ]
Not dead, but imprisoned. He may go to seek out the rescue of another. I will go with him, if he does; with this statue [ and the statue gestures at itself ] we will be able to communicate securely.
I find that I feel- somewhat responsible, for his state. It is one he has been in before, and I do not enjoy seeing him in it a second time.
[ Gotta take care of those pet mortals. You know how it is, right? ]
There may yet be losses. But we will make it as if these years never were -- a small comfort for those who lived them, but it will happen.
[ thranduil bites his tongue- not literally- and exhales, eyes closing for a moment.
(no science only magic for missing best buddy so recently returned to him.) ]
I will travel to Orzammar as quickly as I am able. If we are to do this as quickly as possible, nothing else matters. Tell me what you need. Your mortal needn't ever know he suffered, or that you cared enough to note his suffering. [ an amused twist of his lips. ] I needn't know that it ever came to this.
[ he nods. he... can resign himself to this. ] I will remember nothing, I assume.
(no science only magic for missing best buddy so recently returned to him.) ]
I will travel to Orzammar as quickly as I am able. If we are to do this as quickly as possible, nothing else matters. Tell me what you need. Your mortal needn't ever know he suffered, or that you cared enough to note his suffering. [ an amused twist of his lips. ] I needn't know that it ever came to this.
[ he nods. he... can resign himself to this. ] I will remember nothing, I assume.
Information. And we are going to need to be able to get back to Haven, which I suspect will be- difficult.
[ Fuck Up All The Venatori
The statue nods, quick and short. No point in beating around the bush. ]
Correct. And so I will also need all of the information that can be gathered as to the activities of Corypheus' forces, anything so that we can counter and work around it, strike first when able. I understand it has been a few years, but I suspect not enough for your memory to have many holes.
[ Or enough for all the information to be lost, even with the dead. ]
There are several others who came through with me. Of them all, a Templar [ yes, he knows ] with the nickname 'Wren' is perhaps the most level-headed and the best to pass information onto, besides myself.
[ Fuck Up All The Venatori
The statue nods, quick and short. No point in beating around the bush. ]
Correct. And so I will also need all of the information that can be gathered as to the activities of Corypheus' forces, anything so that we can counter and work around it, strike first when able. I understand it has been a few years, but I suspect not enough for your memory to have many holes.
[ Or enough for all the information to be lost, even with the dead. ]
There are several others who came through with me. Of them all, a Templar [ yes, he knows ] with the nickname 'Wren' is perhaps the most level-headed and the best to pass information onto, besides myself.
I have... a collection of the remaining Dalish. I will not treat them like children, the information will be provided to them and they will make their own choices. That will provide you with a selection of archers and hunters in addition to myself, my lord, and Galadriel. [ who is literally somehow more terrifying, it turns out, when the world starts to end and she's been given a good solid chance to plan for ending the world as it is and building a new one. ]
I understand. I will move to Orzammar, first, this... dissenter, the one who might complicate things ought to be handled first. And there are a few more who ought be told.
[ he laughs, charmed. ] No, my friend, I have forgotten very little,[ he admits, and reaches over to dig through the upended furs to grab the crystal. ]
I assume this will work?
[ he's gotten into bed with odder folks. it's been an odd few years. ]
I understand. I will move to Orzammar, first, this... dissenter, the one who might complicate things ought to be handled first. And there are a few more who ought be told.
[ he laughs, charmed. ] No, my friend, I have forgotten very little,[ he admits, and reaches over to dig through the upended furs to grab the crystal. ]
I assume this will work?
[ he's gotten into bed with odder folks. it's been an odd few years. ]
[ That is a start. If the Inquisition refuses to believe them, it will have to be enough. The Outsider's statue nods, resolute. At least one of those from Thranduil's past, those who have been thrust in the future, must get back. ]
'The Doctor', apparently. Perhaps you could talk some sense into him, but he is very firm in his beliefs about how the world works. Likely it's true, in his own, but this is not his world. That is the problem.
[ As it always is, he supposes. ]
The crystal will work, but be careful what is shared on it. I've seen traitors already within Kirkwall.
'The Doctor', apparently. Perhaps you could talk some sense into him, but he is very firm in his beliefs about how the world works. Likely it's true, in his own, but this is not his world. That is the problem.
[ As it always is, he supposes. ]
The crystal will work, but be careful what is shared on it. I've seen traitors already within Kirkwall.
Magic, [ thranduil says, ] not reason, [ and does not sound bitter. he can empathize with the doctor. he is, as far as thranduil knows, alone here. no soft landing. thranduil had galadriel. the outsider now has corvo, and is somewhat unshakable. after a moment: ] Do not speak of his title as if yours is any less ridiculous.
[ it is a title. it distances. you cannot love a title in the same way you can love someone with a name. duinenor: high tide, you are valuable to me, you are important, here is a piece of my people, made new for you, i care where you sleep at night and if your clothes are warm and comfortable. the loss of you five years ago tore something from me. ]
I suppose you would prefer this over that. You must speak with the others before you arrive, give them time to prepare for the truth. Romain comes to mind. He will... appreciate the novelty.
[ it is a title. it distances. you cannot love a title in the same way you can love someone with a name. duinenor: high tide, you are valuable to me, you are important, here is a piece of my people, made new for you, i care where you sleep at night and if your clothes are warm and comfortable. the loss of you five years ago tore something from me. ]
I suppose you would prefer this over that. You must speak with the others before you arrive, give them time to prepare for the truth. Romain comes to mind. He will... appreciate the novelty.
Edited 2017-03-18 03:23 (UTC)
( although it's been some time since they've spoken - and although she's never come to see where he stayed before, when they were speaking - Gwenaëlle does know where to find Thranduil when she wants to. she's an observant young woman, she's been paying attention, it isn't so hard.
but he probably isn't expecting her. likely, he expects even less what he gets - which is a small orlesian colliding with his midsection in a liberty she'd not ordinarily take, fists in his shirt and her head tucked to avoid immediate eye contact. )
but he probably isn't expecting her. likely, he expects even less what he gets - which is a small orlesian colliding with his midsection in a liberty she'd not ordinarily take, fists in his shirt and her head tucked to avoid immediate eye contact. )
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