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[rowancrowned]

 

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crystal. private.

[dirth]

I would like to speak with you. Privately, if possible, as soon as you are able.

crystal. private.

[rowancrowned]

My office or the crystal?

crystal. private.

[dirth]

Your office, I think.

[rowancrowned]

Come when you are able. I will not make a fuss about it.

[dirth]

A welcome change.

[ But there is the sound of movement - and Solas is on his way, not even bothering to knock as he steps inside. ]

[rowancrowned]

Martyr, [ thranduil says, but it's to an empty room and a silenced crystal. then he stands and goes to his door, and is nearly hit in the face as it opens. he flinches, face a brief twist of displeasure, and he steps back only to reach to close it once solas has entered. ]

Have you told someone? [ casual. ]

[dirth]

No. I've been keeping myself to myself. [ A frown, arms crossing over his chest. ] And Adalia has returned.

[rowancrowned]

She has, [ thranduil agrees. ] You fear she will reveal your identity. Do you intend to kill her?

[dirth]

Not presently, but she does not make it easy. [ Said bitterly. ] She has vowed to lock herself away.

[rowancrowned]

You threatened her. [ his tone is very much 'please tell me you didn't threaten her'. ]

[dirth]

I did not. She came to me and offered. [ Said a little sourly - he’s not actually evil, you know. ]

[rowancrowned]

Both of you, martyrs.

[ but it's fond. very fond. ]

The Gallows is sealed while we work through this. You will not be the only one seeking a quiet room for the duration, if that is the path you wish to take.

[dirth]

Are we?

[ Solas looks sour with it, a sternness to his lips, a level of frustration to his tone. ]

That is what I hope. It is too much to imagine that I might be safe from this curse.

[rowancrowned]

Determined to become.

[ they're immortal, or nearer to it, in adalia's case, than the others. ]

How silly, if this was what ended your mission.

[ how utterly mundane. ]

I intend to wait it out here.

[ he gestures, widely, to his office. ]

My wife already knows all my secrets.

[dirth]

I do not think martyrdom is in my future, my friend.

[ - and that slipped out a little too easily. Solas wraps his fingers around his jawbone, thoughtful. ]

Yes, I am aware of that. I should hope she does not become aware of other people's.

[ There are some things he wants to keep to himself, Thranduil, bro. ]

[rowancrowned]

She knows her limits, [ he says, hard. ] For my sake, Iorveth made her aware of them.

[ hard, in that she had felt pain for this, and he bled when she did. ]

So, my friend, what are we liars to do until this ends?

[dirth]

Do you know yours?

[ Gwen knows some things of him, but Solas is not a fool. There is a risk that Thranduil might give more, and that he could not tolerate.

But, still, he looks pained; the truth is a terrible burden, one he has borne for many years. ]

Tolerate this, I suppose, in our isolation.

[rowancrowned]

[ calmly: ] Dragonfire.

[ as far as setting the bar for pain went, and gwenaelle, the only one they could threaten to shake him already has anything anyone who loathed him would want (how neat, that) so that leaves very little.

he considers, very briefly, being unkind and pouring himself wine. ]

We know the worst of it. If you are lonely and this drags on beyond bearing, come for dinner.

[dirth]

[ At least there is that. Thranduil is always honest with him - even without magic to command his tongue - and there's an obvious relaxing of the tension in Solas' shoulders, the way he stands, the despair that hung around him like a nightmare.

He can breathe, and he looks terribly old, wan, tired. Desperate.

Nodding, he lifts a hand to press at his face, sighing. ]

It has already dragged beyond bearing. I can speak to no one.

[rowancrowned]

I know your secrets, and you know mine.

[ he does not have a bit of malice in this. he lays it out, and reaches to touch solas' shoulder. ]

Speak with me, my friend. We can only discuss the weather, rather than your plans for the Veil.

[dirth]

We know too much about each other.

[ Said wryly, with a smile. At least he does not flinch from the touch; he relaxes into it. ]

Are you so keen to know my plans?

[rowancrowned]

Ah, [ he says, and this is nonchalant, as is the cock of his head and the curl of his smile. ] I ought to call them our plans, if you will permit me the flattery of such a thing.

[dirth]

It is not for me to permit you or deny you. [ Just as nonchalant. ]

[rowancrowned]

[ he scoffs. ]

One day, I will learn to expect cheek from you.

[dirth]

Should you? [ And he finally smiles. ] That will be a day indeed.