Deck the Halls

[woodking]

Who: Thranduil and you!
What: Thranduil arrives! Kissmas shenanegins likely.
When: Now
Where: Floor 3
Rating: ... kissmas shenanegins likely. PG-13 to be safe?

When Thranduil had taken a step forward and found himself somewhere entirely different from where he had intended to be, the first thing he did was stop and examine his surroundings. Behind him was an open door of fine wood, behind that was an entirely unfamiliar hallway, in front of him was a room. It was furnished richly - too much so for his tastes, especially after having spent the past several thousand years becoming accustomed to the constraints and realities of living in Mirkwood, and even longer away from those whose business was crafting luxurious items that fulfilled no other purpose; the wood-elves made many beautiful things, but rarely anything so needlessly opulent. The sheer extravagance of his surroundings was in itself off-putting. Luxury was all well and good, but this....

Half because of the room and half because he should have been in a forest, and was beginning to wonder if the creatures he had come to attempt to dissuade from disturbing his people had somehow managed to reflect his magic back at him (but he was not asleep), Thranduil had turned and walked into the hall. It was nearly as rich as the room had been, gold and rich fabrics strewn everywhere, expensive woods and stones and glass as clear as water unfolding like a painting.

This was not home. This was nowhere familiar.

Exploring further was probably a good first step.

The door behind him had, in graceful script, his name on it, which was both thought-provoking and rather disquieting. It did, however, make him decide that it was as good a place as any to set down the bowl half-full of Dorwinion wine he was still holding, from the feast which he should still have been at; he had no real desire to carry it everywhere he went. Which left nothing to do but explore.

He both did and did not fit in with the grandeur of the castle - his robes were fine enough when the source was considered, but still rougher than what he was surrounded by, and there were a few dead leaves caught near the hem. He was crowned in leaves, with flowers braided through his hair, and although beautiful gems and gold and silver were winking at his belt and collar and fingers, they were not what lent him the aura of splendor that he carried with him. It was how he held himself which turned this all into a place where he could belong.

Comments

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

Legolas didn't often linger on the third floor, not unless he wanted to put something in his room (which was rare) or wanted to meet someone. Today he was just visiting the music room, toying with a couple instruments to pass the time. Really, it could sometimes be hard to find things to keep him occupied. He didn't hunt as often as he would have otherwise back in Mirkwood or when he was traveling with the Fellowship. Since he had been a deer, he was far more wary of the animals. Not wanting to be responsible for someone dying.

Leaving the room though, he found himself pausing as he caught sight of familiar gold hair, robes. He blinked a couple of times, half thinking the castle had seen fit to toy with him again already, but no, his eyes weren't fooling him. He quickly took several steps from the room, meeting Thranduil and bowing from the waist.

"My Lord."

[woodking]

There were plants everywhere, in sprigs and wreaths and garlands. He hadn't been paying much attention to them, other than to notice that they were winter plants, which suggested a probable change in season; were it still only verging into autumn, the holly berries would not be so bright. He hadn't noticed the mistletoe, or had any reason to do so. Even if he had, he wouldn't have had a reason to pay particular attention. The tradition of elves and men were not the same. So he was completely unprepared, when Legolas stepped out in front of him, for the way that he suddenly went nearly blind to everything, stepping forward and raising Legolas's face with a few fingers and kissing him, softly.

It took a few moments to realize exactly what he was doing, at which point he almost fell backwards, opened his mouth, and... found he had absolutely nothing to say. Thranduil being rendered completely speechless was a rare event, but it had happened.

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

Legolas had several days more to grow used to the strange change in decoration. Though his time spent in the forest had spared him a mistletoe encounter until just then. He hadn't paid particular attention to the journals either and, if there had been any warnings, he didn't hear them. So it left him just as unprepared as Thranduil.

For a moment, he thought that the king was raising his head to ensure it was him, that it wasn't some imposter Legolas. And then lips were pressed against his own and he couldn't help but look at his king, his father, in shock. He stumbled back himself once the kiss ended, thoughts going everywhere at once before settling on one thing:

He could taste wine.

[woodking]

Thranduil was still struggling to find words, an effort which appeared to be a losing battle. Part of the problem, of course, was that he was still entirely lost as to what had just happened, and any rational explanation seemed far, far off. Hard enough to explain if it had been Legolas, and it had been he who had acted.

Well, he had been apparently spirited to a new place by magic, that was a beginning. But if this was a result of magic as well, one that might compel him to do anything so outrageous, it was not only vaguely horrifying, but also quite worrisome. The master of such an enchantment would in theory be an enemy, and a formidable one at that. And it was only a theory, for all that it made as much sense as anything else he'd been able to think of thus far.

None of this did anything, really, to help him find any words in response to what he had just done, but he had to find something. So, after a moment, he spoke in some language that flowed like water. "Forgive me, Legolas. I do not know why I did that."

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

Legolas had gotten just a bit more used to the castle and its magic by now than Thranduil obviously would have but that didn't prepare him for this, for some urge to kiss or allow himself to be kissed to overcome him. It gave him an idea, however faint, that the castle could very well be responsible for the sudden affection from the king. One doesn't spend almost a week as a fawn without getting an idea of the magic castles capabilities.

"Please, there is nothing to forgive. I know that you would not have done it were some other power not at work."

His words came in the same flowing language though slower, Legolas still surprised by the kiss. It had been a long time since he'd been kissed by a parent, he was too old now and other things were expected of him.

[woodking]

Thranduil turned to look at their surroundings, eyes scanning for anything, finding nothing. Only the halls and their decorations, gaudy furnishings and opulent arched ceilings strewn with bits of plants.

"Something else, at least, has brought us here." There was no reason to assume... but yes, there was. Thranduil paused mid thought and turned to look at Legolas, more completely. That was not what he had been wearing a few moments past - it was, in fact, nothing he recognized at all.

Was he, in fact, his son? Or was this the creature whose power had brought him here, clothed in a familiar form? He is already standing tall but somehow seems to pull himself up without moving, a mantle of cool dignity settling around him as he looks down at Legolas, suddenly looking for imperfections, for something that did not seem right.

because this is the best way to greet acquaintances, amirite

[inafadingcrown]

Galadriel has, thus far, been doing fairly well in avoiding the annual kissing. Crowley had caught her off-guard, but other than that, she's been doing a fine job of ducking out the way and waiting for other people to pass by before going into a room. Walking down the third floor hallway isn't even a challenge at this point.

Except that seeing Thranduil step out from a room is startling enough to get her to stop walking. And- of course, he wouldn't know about the mistletoe. That would explain why he made no effort to avoid it.

And she's been here long enough to know the pull of this particular magic when she feels it. She purses her lips in irritation.

"You should not linger under that plant."

Granted the warning is probably too late this time, but better he know what caused this sort of thing anyway.

yes absolutely. If he didn't know better he'd blame her. But he does know better. Probably.

[woodking]

He wouldn't know about it, no, and therefore had no reason to avoid it. And so he hadn't. There were plants everywhere, and these (though over-decorated with ribbons and garlands and ornaments, most of them) were closer to home than most of his surroundings. He was not frightened, but was slightly unsettled by suddenly being elsewhere, and so the familiarity of greenery was far more welcome than gilded paneled walls.

He is considering one of the garlands when a familiar but entirely unexpected voice speaks. Thranduil's head snaps around, now shocked that Galadriel is here too. He has time for exactly one word, "Plant?" before suddenly and entirely without meaning to he is moving again, stepping up close to the Lady of the Golden Wood, his hands going to her head and her waist, and leaning in to kiss her. His tongue brushed her lips as his brain began to catch up, at least enough to wonder what was going on. Not enough to stop.

No way, this one is tots his fault

[inafadingcrown]

Damn it, Thranduil. It couldn't be helped, she supposed. If he had just arrived there was no way he could know. But what abysmal luck the two of them had.

Possibly the only thing more horrifying than him kissing her is the fact that she's kissing him back, her hands resting on his shoulder and against the small of his back. She is going to have a lot of explaining to do once the magic wears off, isn't she?

omg galadriel how is this possibly his fault he just arrived okay

[woodking]

Yes, she will, especially because she seemed to know what she was talking about, just before all of this. At the moment, of course, talking was difficult - both of their tongues were otherwise occupied. Not that it really mattered, in his case; he was at this point so confused that he wasn't sure he'd know what to ask first.

She was standing near the wall - somehow he found himself pushing her against it, pinning her as he kissed her.

BECAUSE

[inafadingcrown]

Oh. Her hands find their way to his face and hair and, for a few moments that seemed longer than they probably were, she actually kisses him harder. But then the magic fades enough that she recovers her senses and she pulls back.

She's going to need a few seconds to catch her breath and to fight the blush that's spreading across her cheeks.

"If you would kindly step back, Thranduil, I would be most grateful."

BECAUSE ISN'T AN ANWER

[woodking]

As she finally pulls away, and as he finally feels like he can let her, about the only thing that Thranduil finds he can think is what just happened? Then she speaks, asking him to step back, which makes him first realize that he hasn't. And that needs immediate correcting. He does so as quickly, almost hurriedly, stopping a much more acceptable distance of several feet. He's trying hard not to look too disheveled, or bewildered, or unsettled. It's surely a bad idea to look as truly lost and unnerved as he actually is, but disguising that is also much more difficult than it would otherwise be.

He's hotter than normal, and struggling not to look it.

"What was that?"

[wizard_redfive]

She really should know better than to leave the room this time of the year, she really should. But that pesky cabin fever got the best of her.

Dairine was trying to sneak down to check on Neets when a door swings open nearby. She jumps back reflectively, attempting to get as much distance between her and whoever is stepping out.

"Careful there!"

Thankfully, she gets out of range in time, though the danger isn't over yet. Too many mistletoe were around. She had to keep her distance from this guy.

'Speaking of this guy'... Dairine frowns as the panic recedes and she finally starts to notices his appearance. The long blonde hair, the ridiculous height, the regal bearing, the richly decorated clothes... Did the castle just grab one of Roshaun's relatives? For that matter, did Roshaun even have any living relatives that Dairine hasn't met? She supposes it wouldn't matter; the castle could grab people from any time, living or not. Who knows who this could be?

[woodking]

Thranduil looks down slightly curiously at this fiery-haired girl jumping back as though he, or his surroundings, are dangerous. He turns, looking around himself, at the grandeur of his surroundings, and sees... nothing. Or nothing that is so different from what has been the standard ever since he found himself here.

"And what should I be careful of?" His voice is polite enough, but there's an almost arrogant expectation of an immediate answer in the tone. It's reasonable enough. Such advice was not worth much without knowing what he was being warned of.

[wizard_redfive]

Oh god, he also has that annoying tone Roshaun and his dad have. She can't handle this. Dairine is high-strung as it is, simply because of the season. That combined with how Roshaun-like this guy is makes her snap a bit more than she intended.

"The mistletoe, stupid!"

[woodking]

He looks down somewhat disapprovingly from what seems a great height. "It is not stupid to ask, when one does not know."

[wizard_redfive]

Why must elves insist on staring down at people? It only frustrates her more (unless it's Galadriel).

Still, it's not like she meant to be quite so rude, so she starts trying to fix her blunder. "Well, no. I didn't mean stupid as in you, particularly. It just... came out wrong." Cripes, why does everything she say sound so bad.

"...Sorry."

[woodking]

He is a king, on top of being an elf - as well as being like twice as tall as her. It's very easy to stare down at people when you're over six feet tall. He looks away again, back at the mistletoe. She apologized, so he puts the conversation behind them and continues on, doing her the courtesy of not further acknowledging it.

"And why, exactly, should I be careful? The plant is poison, but I wasn't planning to eat it."

[tylendel]

Thranduil was quite a sight. The young Herald Mage paused in the corridor, his brown eyes widening in wonder. He must be - Yes. Another Elf. A small smile crossed his lips and he bowed in respect, his golden curls falling to obscure his vision.

In comparison, his clothes were...simple. He preferred earth tones - brown, green, blue - and simple, soft fabric. Tylendel was a noble - and a Lord in fact - but he chose not to flaunt it. In fact, he would rather not even think about his family. But that was a story for another time.

"Greetings." he rose up and put his hands in his pockets, "How do you like the castle?"

[woodking]

He'd heard him approaching and turned, the movement slight and graceful, to look and see who it was. He looked on curiously, eyes sharp, as the other bowed, and inclined his head in response.

"Castle? Is that where I am?" There was something surprisingly casual about the question.

Ugh I am so late to this! /rolls on in like an avalanche

[wishmadeinfire]

Ashura had long ago given up fitting with the medieval trappings of the Castle. At six foot and willow thin, he was not the sort of person you might expect to find in a place of hard stone and cool halls. The long, pointed ears (longer than Thranduil's by a ways) set him even further apart, along with the floor length midnight hair.

Today he wore light, icy blue, white, and gold, the high neck and wrists rimmed tightly with white fur, the long robe flit up his legs and displaying the white doe-skin trousers he affected for the winter. Gold and aquamarines dotted the length of his ears, and a few more shaped like snow crystals dotted the length of his ebony hair, turning it into a snowy night. The only other color being that of a ruby on a torque about his throat.

Wanting light exercise without going out into the cold, he had taken to going up and down the steps of the castle, seeing who was here, who had left, how many empty rooms there were now. It was saddening and heartening at the same time, which was an odd enough feeling. He came down a hall on the third floor, the silvery blue of his robes slightly trailing, golden eyes catching sight of Thranduil - and it was not hard to place his race, given he was friends with Legolas and Galadriel and had met many more besides.

"Am I correct in thinking you hail from Middle Earth?" Ashura asked from his six foot height.

nah don't worry you were just a few days in

[woodking]

Thranduil is not exactly something you would assume to find in a castle (it was more of a palace, really) either, but something about his manner, more than his dress, made it work. He turned to examine the stranger, who was almost as tall as he was, had hair much longer than his, and... was not of a race he recognized.

"Yes. What of you? For if you are from Arda, you are of a kin which I am unfamiliar with."

~ Good

[wishmadeinfire]

Ashura's mouth twitched up in a small smile, shaking his head lightly. "No, I do not hail from Midddle Earth, only been acquainted with quite a few from said place. The particular style of dress is hard to misinterpret this point." There were other reasons, mostly being friends with elves, but that too - they all did seem to share a running sort of common denominator in their clothing.

"I hail from the country of Shurano," he explained. "Though this place is neither my country nor Middle Earth, I am afraid. You find yourself in Paradisa."

And as he said this, Ashura did not see the sprig of mistletoe, hidden high above - the Castle was getting more creative with its hiding places each and every year. But he felt its tug when the magic took hold and he inwardly groaned. He had just met the man and now -? Ah, well, nothing to be done for it, though in his little bit of defiance he refused to immediately let the magic get the better of him.

Even so, he stepped a bit closer to the rather entrancing elf...

[woodking]

Thranduil looks down, slightly haughty, somewhat interested. "Different races have different manners of dress, and even among one species there is much variation. To judge entirely by that seems presumptuous, unless the difference really is so extreme." He examined the other man's outfit - gaudy, but was it truly so different?

"It is a land I have not heard of. Where is Paradisa, then?"

[wishmadeinfire]

He nodded his head in acknowledgement, resisting the urge to bridle at being chastised. "Perhaps I should have been more accurate - I have met quite a few elves from Middle Earth." Elrond. Galadriel. Legolas. Celeborn. It was, in the case of Paradisa, an alarmingly large number of people from the same world and race.

"As for where Paradisa is? My personal theory is that it is a nexus between worlds, but there is no proof of this other than people's existence here. Truly, no one actually knows." He gave an elegant shrug, because after so long here it did not bother him like it once had.

And all the while, as he said this, the mistletoe hung overhead and he stepped in even closer to the elf king, fascinated by the slant of his jaw, the way his lips moved when he spoke. He knew it was Castle magic, but still... He was so close now, almost there...