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Your opinions on my choices matter, iell, as I would hope mine do for yours.

[ he takes his glass into his hands, and leans back into his chair, watching here. ]

I love her. [ a beat. ] I did not expect to love her, but here we are. The rules are different for us. We do not have the 'elfblooded' as you do. While it is unusual, it is not... it does not spell the end of us as a people.

Ah. [ Beleth looks rather guilty at that, glancing off to the side. She hasn't exactly kept Thranduil informed on what choices she's been making in relationships--admittedly, those choices have all been completely terrible. ] Thank you, that...means a lot to me.

[ But what he's saying is...well, it's not confusing, exactly. He must love her, if he's willing to marry her. That doesn't explain why. ]

Have you read some of the things she's written about elves? Or the things she's said over the sending crystals? [ A beat. ] Is she...kinder, in private?

I have. [ no point in denying it. he lived with her, he has heard much worse from her on a variety of topics. ] You may attribute some of her more recent comments to attempting to throw hounds off the scent, if you like.

[ he looks at his glass, then at her, before pulling his chair closer to the table and his supper, taking up knife and fork. ]

No. Not particularly. I myself am not kind. She is-- as cats are.

I may attribute them, if I like. The most recent ones. You are not saying whether or not that is actually the case. If she believes those awful things she's written. [ She pauses for a moment--Thranduil probably knows what she's about to say. But then, he's still not of Thedas, and the Inquisition is far more moderate than most. ] Just because a human is willing to enter a relationship with an elf, doesn't mean that they view elves as people of equal status. Even the one they're with, on some occasions.

[ She frowns, ignoring her food and drink for the moment. ] You are plenty kind, Thranduil. I've seen you aiding people of all types, people you've barely known. You're kind to me.

Are you telling me you love her because she eats the mice in your house?

I cannot yet persuade her on the matter of the Dalish, [ he confesses. ] She witnessed a clan murder a member of her staff and attempt to slaughter the rest of the party. Including myself and Alistair. While I do not agree with the aftermath of what was done to that clan, watching our people choose to kinslay and scatter what remained, her rage can be understood. It is a process, adjusting her opinion. But she did not do anything with that rage. I cannot claim credit for that.

[ which is something, as weak of an excuse as it sounds. ]

You needn't doubt I would throw myself between any blade she held against another elf, even at the cost of her love for me.

[ he exhales, drinks where she does not. ]

I love her because she infuriates me, and yet the idea of her not spending the rest of her life being a constant thorn in my side would cause me to despair.

Edited 2018-03-21 01:20 (UTC)

Humans have killed plenty of Dalish before, and the People harbor a great deal of anger over it. Some do act out on it, hunting them like we hunt deer. Hurting them, in various ways, sometimes quickly, sometimes not. I disapprove, and I’ve certainly never partaken, myself. Yet, few people would view that as an accomplishment.

[ She’s frowning, finally taking her fork to her food—by jabbing it repeatedly. It’s mostly to help vent the pie, but it’s probably more enthusiastic than strictly necessary. Still, some of that tension does leave when he assures her that he would stop her from killing any elves. There are still concerns, and there’s more than one way to be a threat, but—it’s something. ]

Thranduil, I don’t have the time, nor the wherewithal to faff about chasing every human and elf who enter a relationship. But—[ She opens her mouth, to say something about how ‘infuriating’ isn’t a great quality in a relationship, before recalling the recent goat in her office, and closes her mouth, choosing to take a different route. ]—I am concerned. She’s—Thranduil, I think it’s safe to say few women would turn you down if you pursued them. Surely you could find one that you could say something more positive than ‘she doesn’t act on her hate’.

[ he watches her eviscerate her pie, eyes up and down with the fork. ]

Is that what this is? 'Faffing'?

[ she cares. he appreciates that. does not appreciate her dragon, but that particular discussion needs to wait. ]

I am afraid I cannot. We—are like unto swans, if you would prefer an elegant comparison. We have one and one only the whole of our lives. I am incapable of having another, and in truth, it would be—difficult. We do not consider our adults to be as much until the hundredth year of their life. I doubt I would find any Dalish of that age who would not break my heart within a few years of committing.

Oh, like dilly dallying—[ That's probably not helpful. ]—pointlessly running around, wasting my time. I’d have to quit my job if I wanted to devote myself to chasing after every elf who wishes to join with a human. [ She's not sure why, they aren't that special. ]

I understand the concept of being with one person for life. With a life as long as yours, I can see how that would create...complications. [ She studies her fork thoughtfully for a moment. ] How old is Lady Vauquelin, if I may ask?

It could be your new job, [ he suggests, cutting a small bite with the side of his fork and bringing it to his lips before pausing. ] But you and your brother are the last Asharas here, are you not?

[ he takes the bite, chews, considers, tines nearly resting against his mouth. ]

Do you know, [ he comments, the answer as elusive to him as corypheus' orb to the inquisition. ] I have not asked.

My brother had...disagreements with our mother. I haven’t asked for details, from either side. But I doubt he’ll stay like that for long, I suspect he’ll just try transferring during the upcoming arlathvhen.

[ That’s what she’s hoping for, at least, because she can handle transferring clans. The idea of him completely abandoning the clans is too horrible to think about, and it would mean that she would, of course, have to follow him. It’s a topic she’s been avoiding with Sorrel, and this probably isn’t the time to bring it up to Thranduil.

So instead, she rises to her feet, and walks across the room, to the bookcase filled with files. After a few moments of searching, she pulls one of the files out, then takes from it a paper. ]

Lady Gwenäelle Vauquelin, 24 years old. She’s younger than me. And I doubt she’s planning on making it past 100.

Edited 2018-04-27 03:35 (UTC)

Perhaps he will be happier elsewhere. [ and this is a true thing, a genuine wish. he hates to see so many leave their clans, bed humans, no hope of elflings.

if he is made a hypocrite-- but that is a thing at least a little in the distance. there will be no talk of children until after the war.

he watches her walk, making no commentary and only leaning back in his chair slightly to make sure his eyes stay on her. he likes watching her in her space, likes her confidence. ]

Ah, [ he says, and is at least glad of her apathy towards her own birthday. he would hate to forget it. ] No, and neither will you. And there is nothing I can do to keep death from either of you- from any of the elves here. I have accepted this.

I’m not afraid to die.

[ She says it with the practiced ease of someone who has said it before, and is as sure of it now, as she was then. She’s more important now, she’s making a difference, she has plans. But she is still a single elf, and a single life.

She stares at the paperwork for a few moments longer, than sighs and returns to her seat, taking up her pie. ]

And I wish for nothing but happiness for you. You deserve nothing less. I just—I just worry.

Fear it enough that you avoid it.

[ she is too young to die. he watches her eat. ]

I am touched. What is it that you worry about?

I do my best to.

[ She gives a noncommittal shrug, shoving a piece of carrot in her mouth, which serves as a convenient means of stalling until she can think of something that doesn't sound like paranoid hand wringing. ]

I worry that you'll get hurt. It's...so easy to get hurt, when it comes to relationships. And I think that you're one of the strongest people I've ever met, but you can't just slap a bandage over those kinds of wounds.

If she betrays me, it will break me, [ he admits. and perhaps it is cruel of him to hold a young woman to the bonds of forever, even when he explained them to her, and think they will be as binding and seem as born out of love at twenty five as they will at fifty five. ] And when she dies, it will ache, but I have mourned her death every day I have known her. But I will endure. The elvhen need me.

[ Beleth ponders asking, what good are you to us if you're so easily broken? But that seems unnecessarily cruel, so instead, she shrugs. ]

I suppose that's something everyone who loves someone else has to reconcile. Lovers, family, friends. And I suppose it's not like our current predicament is giving any of us good odds for longevity.

[ It's a odd way to comfort someone, she supposes. ]

I won't say that I think it's a good idea, Thranduil. But it sounds like you've...come to terms with whatever it entails.

[ 'your nature doesn't allow for it', but he thinks it, same as he's thought it for years now. perhaps it will not be righted for them, but for their children, yet unborn, the word might be made right.

he owes them that. ]

Better to have it than to not. Better to have the children, when they come.

[ a smile, finally. beleth, aren't you excited to be an aunt? ]

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