Thranduil ❧ The Elvenking (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
woodking) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradisalogs2013-12-07 10:01 pm
woodking) wrote in paradisalogs2013-12-07 10:01 pm
Entry tags:
Deck the Halls
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.
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.
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"The journey was truly in need of one such as you?" He trusted Legolas, but he'd have preferred not to have him thrown into the wolf's jaws.
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It's funny how literally that can be taken. How it had been a very real chance in the earlier days of the journey when the wargs had been attacking them. Perhaps another could have gone though, in his stead, but his had been the better eye, the better skill with a bow.
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"You know I trust you."
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"My friends will keep me safe as I do for them. And I will come home to tell you all."
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It wasn't something he'd expect if he knew where Legolas was headed, the fact that he'd be home, but that he was going to Mordor was still unimaginable.
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Well. One of them. He might have a little trouble with Gimli at first but the dwarf is much better than his father had been. And that is speaking only of those he had been with before arriving.
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"There is nothing more you can tell me?"
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Unless he means about his friends. That he is definitely trying to avoid explaining. After all, how do you mention that your friend is the son of one of the dwarfs that kept disturbing their parties.
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He was being strangely reticent, but in matters such as these, Thranduil was not going to force him to say anything. And it makes sense, but still, he wishes there was more he might know.
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He wouldn't mention the Balrog, the death or Boromir or what it was, who it was, that he protected. That would cause more concern when none is needed.
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He didn't like not telling his father everything but he would. Eventually. For now though, he was content to was with him and out of the castle to the fresh air.
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They'd been caught by two sprigs, but did not know what they were looking for, an in stepping through the doorway were caught by a third. Thranduil was becoming slightly used to the sensation, though that thought alone made him grind his teeth. He moved again towards Legolas, lips brushing against his cheek this time, before casting a slightly baleful glance over his shoulder.
"I begin to wonder if certain doorways are not the problem."
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"I wonder the same. It shall take us much longer to leave if we keep encountering this problem."
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So, clearly, the better option is to try walking at a distance.
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"I would think so. It would not do to see either of us risk injury so soon."
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Legolas had been reckless enough as a child, perhaps, but Thranduil was the one who had survived all the wars, and thus perhaps had better reason to trust he knew what could and could not be done. He'd had to push the limits before.
Of course, the statement was more than half him teasing, but it was only fair.
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"Is it not better to avoid injury when possible?"
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"I understand, of course. I will find us a window should walking at a distance fail."
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"Then let us go." Always worth trying the simpler way first.