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[rowancrowned]

 

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[elegiaque]

( sink her claws in and make him feel it-- )

Do I?

( hold all of his secrets. )

[rowancrowned]

[ dryly: ] If there is anything you wish me to enlighten you about, now would be the time.

[elegiaque]

I want...

( assurances that she'll never be afraid for him again?

unrealistic. unfair to ask for. she almost asks, regardless; lets her hand fall gentle to his waist when inclination would have her dig her nails in. a hint of tension remains, the implication of restraint. )

I want to be stitched inside of your heart so tightly you can feel me when it beats. I almost forgot you. I hate anyone knows anything and it could all just, it could have not been. You could have not been.

And even when I didn't know why, it felt wrong to think of anyone else, like something tugging on me I couldn't see- there's never going to be anyone else.

( that's sufficiently pointed he might twig she found the letter he meant for his death. )

1/2

[rowancrowned]

[ using his words against him. he should have burned that letter once he was well. ]

[rowancrowned]

In wedding you, I have bound my fëa to your... [ whatever humans have. ] It is not something than can be undone. It makes one soul of two bodies. As for forgetting me, well- I think I have left marks enough, and more the longer we are together.

[ softer. ] Gwenaëlle. I am well again. The illness was- abnormal. We do not sicken, not usually. I am here. I am not leaving.

[elegiaque]

You don't usually a lot of things, ( but she's relenting, a little. enough. ) It's only now past and you'll be away for weeks.

( she's never objected before; it's so small an objection, so quiet, but it speaks volumes of how jarred she'd been by that experience to say anything at all when she's so well trained herself not to. they're at war and there's much they have to live with that they might not wish. mostly, she breathes deep and lives with it.

and she will. just, she likes it even less today. )

You're very important to me.

[rowancrowned]

[ he'll push his luck, close the distance between them. reach out and cup her face- and wrap a glamour around the room. he knows how this works now. ]

I will have the crystal. You might come with me, you know. Morrigan has been hinting about what we might see, Dalish who are not Dalish, and the dark sort of things that live on the forest floor. Much to write about.

[ if she actually showed any inclination towards coming, he would forbid it and use his authority to bar her from coming. luckily, not an inquistion member means she can't join them on official inquistion business. ]

Am I? I was wondering why you kept calling me husband.

[elegiaque]

( she hits the beat he expects in the face she pulls at the mere suggestion of trekking off to parts unknown to see dalish better left that way. one day she'll surprise him, but not today. today she tilts into his hand and presses a kiss to his palm, )

You're also a great trial to me.

( and anyone but morrigan she'd be criticising, too, but morrigan is perfect. )

My insufferable husband. You'll speak to me whenever you can?

[rowancrowned]

[ he smiles, and bends to kiss her forehead, lingering as he is entitled to, even only in these private moments. ]

I fell through the rift to tempt you, mademoiselle.

[ his hand on her hip, too, an embrace that last only a little while and has no chance of turning into anything else. he is scheduled to eat here, and then return to the gallows. there is not time for more. ]

Naturally. As if I would be kept from it.

[elegiaque]

I miss you, ( very simply, ) when you aren't here.

( he knows, but it feels important to have said. to say things to him occasionally that aren't complaints about what an enormous pain in her arse he is, although he's that, too.

she leans in, leans her weight against him, her heavy velvet skirts tangling around his knees. rests there. thinks at least there's something satisfying now about missing him, about feeling deeply something that had nearly slipped out of her grasp.

all the little notes she'd written to herself and how they puzzled her, every time she found them. you love him. don't forget. she takes a breath. )

Wait. What are you and Morrigan up to now?

[rowancrowned]

As I miss you.

[ it is certainly nice to have it spoken, as it is nice to have her close.

but, ah, this again, and he resists the urge to look heavenward or roll his eyes. ]

She wishes to speak with Dalish who are-- in all honesty, I am sure the distinctions would bore you.

[elegiaque]

( having been put on this earth to sorely test thranduil's resolve not to cast his eyes up, she says, )

I don't know, I'm fascinated by the novelty of useful Dalish.

( doesn't she sound fascinated. )

[rowancrowned]

[ he holds fast. ]

Like the scoutmaster?

[elegiaque]

Was she useful? I hadn't noticed.

( madam. )

[rowancrowned]

The best mark of someone's usefulness is that all their good works are so seamlessly done as to appear effortless and unnoticed.

[ smiling placidly. ]

If I adopted her, I think that would make you her mother, no?

[elegiaque]

( she was going to have to let go of him at some point, but it's probably less necessary that she gives him a shove as she does it, moving away to her vanity to start unpinning her hair. they dress for dinner in this household, albeit usually dressing down rather than up- )

As I said, ( screwing her face up at him in the mirror, over her shoulder, ) you are a fucking trial to me, Thranduil.

( a beat later. )

You suggest that to her, see what she says.

[rowancrowned]

[ he watches her fingers pull out pins, and he only has to reach into his pocket to pull out his crystal, attune it just so. ]

Beleth? Are you alone?

[ not 'scoutmaster ashara'. ]

[arlathvhen]

Hmm--? Yes, ada.

[ The reply is prompt, tone warmer and more genuine than Gwen had probably ever heard from the various announcements she's made as Scoutmaster. If Gwen pays attention to the tone of random people on crystals. ]

Are you quite alright?

[elegiaque]

( gwenaëlle isn't quite close enough for her voice to be entirely clear, but it nevertheless carries over the crystal when she says, with audibly raised eyebrows— )

For fuck's sake, I didn't mean now.

( or at all, literally.

also, 'ada'. mm. most people she wouldn't necessarily note the difference, but while she might not be able to pick beleth out of a lineup visually, she pays more attention to the crystals than most might think—and especially to the division heads. )

[rowancrowned]

Well enough. [ his tone is clipped, suddenly reminded that someone is not very good at staying quiet. soldiering on- and giving gwen a Look, ]

I have kept something from you, and I would remedy that. I dislike secrets between us.

[arlathvhen]

[ Clear or not clear, the voice can be heard, and that makes Beleth freeze. Perhaps it was foolish of her to assume that Thranduil would be alone, as well. But secrets--? ]

Ah. It's your prerogative, what you share with me. I would never think to force the issue.

[ Her tone is still warm, but a little more guarded, now that she knows there's some rando in the background. ]

Nevertheless, if you wish to tell me, I am here. Your words won't leave this room--these rooms...? This conversation.

[elegiaque]

( only a hair's breadth quieter; )

If you wanted privacy, you should have gone somewhere other than my bedroom.

( there was probably never going to be a scenario where gwenaëlle's involvement made this easier, but springing it on her like this doesn't help. )

[rowancrowned]

[ he shoots her a pleading glance, trying to catch her eye in the mirror. honestly, he ought to have done this weeks ago, but he's been avoiding it.

calling his bluff only pushed it to the unavoidable front of his mind. ]

You know Elros, yes? What do you know of his heritage, iell?

[arlathvhen]

[ What the dang heck is going on. Beleth can't quite make out Gwen's exact words, nor her exact identity--but she knows that she's not someone she would associate with keeping secrets with Thranduil. But Elros--? ]

He hinted at being elfblooded once, when we were in a...discussion about the state of the Dalish. I suppose he thought it gave him extra credibility.

[ It's much more diplomatically put than she would have said--probably had said--if they were alone. ]

[elegiaque]

( where his look had begun to soften her, the direction of the conversation does not—she lays her comb down, harder than she'd intended to do, turning upon the stool with her hair half-undone and her gaze flat and suspicious of where this is going.

he's going to win beleth over by convincing her that gwenaëlle might bear elves?

her silence is not relenting. she would hear for herself exactly where this is going. if he so much as thinks her mother's name.

her fists clench in her lap. she doesn't contain the faint, derisive sound at the idea of elros having any credibility, about anything— )