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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[ they could have had turnips carved into the faces of inquisition members, for a lark. ]
I did. I was shepherd.
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(That'd be a criminal waste of turnips, cruelty too. There are some ugly bastards in the Inquisition and well they both know it. There are gingers don't inflict that on innocent root vegetables.)]
Thought you were the groom though, what time did you have to pick guests, run a division, go running off to a war and get married to m'lady into the bargain? Maybe for the best I weren't there then, not much mixed company we keep.
[That don't fight.]
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[ and he'd leaned on a number of friends. ]
I was abed after Ghislain. It made it much easier to request favors for what I could not do myself and garner pity.
Have you visited her yet to apologize?
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[There's a tone. A particular Yngvi tone.]
Well you were the tit who went to Ghislain with the rest of the tits so if you want me to feel sorry for you then that's not happening, it's Orlais, they wouldn't piss to put you out especially.
And no. I'm on a horse. He's a big horse to back into the stables. Literally got back into Kirkwall right now mate and got the essentials sorted to see who was dead.
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[ and now it's done and the ink is dry, and thranduil has a claim to the name baudin, should he need it. ]
Once you are finished, and in a fit state, come to my office, if you would. For supper, perhaps.
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[Scandalised as Mother in the Chantry long enough to be in her dotage.]
As if I've ever been in a fit state, that's a thing that'll never approach me ever in my life. 'sides, why you wanting me for supper? Got a horse to settle. A goose. A cat. Twenty nugs. See if anyone took over my old room or if it's still free, you've probably got better things to do than supper and all.
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M'lady says more with her silence than three quarters of the Inquisition say with three months of words. And don't spoil the illusion, I don't need to know you eat, thought you inhaled the Dalish looking at you the way deshyrs touch up the Paragons.
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Come. Will you make me say it?
i wish i had a kirby gif so badly right now
Is it kinder if a big weird rifter elf is absorbing them somehow?]
What sort of supper?
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[ downright homey, even. thranduil isn't afraid of the dark. ]
Stew and brown bread, in all likelihood. It is too cold for fish, still. Wine. Some manner of Orlesian pastry.
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[It's velvet slippers yeah? Monogrammed with initials and elaborate antlers?]
If I can convince Gaspard to bed down in a stable again. I'll bring tea, is tea allowed at your table?
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[ l'état, c'est moi. or more specifically la terre, but he savors it in his mouth.
he will not be connected to the land here like that, not even now, after he'd shed his blood at ghislain. he had not worn a rut in the memory of the place, not yet. perhaps he ought to acquire some thick-soled slippers for the task. ]
Tea is allowed.
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A thing not to be touched after coming back to Kirkwall, to the spectre of his father with an arm outstretched; mine and ours and a flexible view of possession even in jest.]
I'll bring the tea you can't be trusted, I'll be about when I'm about. Animals y'know.