paradisalogs | And so I'm offering this simple phrase

Who: Thranduil and you...?
What: Bitty Thranduil is loose! Possible Kissmas shenanigans, but if so innocent kisses only, cheek etc
When: Dec 4-Dec 11
Where: Castle, grounds, etc
Rating: Should stay G

1) Hello there Castle, you have a new resident. Or do you? There's a tiny fair-haired child exploring the corridors, anyway, and wondering quite how he happened to get here. Hopefully there aren't any poinsettias too close.

2)The blonde figure is tiny enough, but still shouldn't be light enough to stand on top of the snow. And yet they are, that's exactly what they're doing, standing light and skimming across the surface like a bird. His (though it'd be hard to know from looking at him, with his long hair falling past his shoulders) nose and the tips of his ears are slightly red, and his cheeks rosy, but he doesn't exactly seem to be dressed for the weather. Of course, he's much more interested in exploring the gardens than coming inside.

3) Nobody told him that the forest wasn't the safest place for a child, it seems, or if he was told he didn't listen. So now he's out in it, up a tree and watching birds or trying to find rabbits or deer. It's strange that none of the animals or the trees here talk, isn't it? Though trees always did have slow, quiet voices, and they could be difficult to hear.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Conan hadn't heard of any new children arriving. But that was definitely one that he hadn't met before. He tries to get the other boy's attention.]

Hey, who are you?

[He's a tiny little thing, with wide green eyes and long blonde hair, and it doesn't take him long to notice the other child. He stares when he sees him, at his round ears and the glass over his eyes and his short hair and his funny clothes.]

... Thranduil.... What are you?

[Thranduil. That named seemed familiar. Conan tried to remember where he had heard it before.]

I'm a detective.

[He's drawing a blank on what that's supposed to be.]

Were... they created after the second born?

...What? [Conan wondered if he had heard that right.]

Who are the second born?

A new child in the castle was unexpected. Even more unexpected was that it was a young elven child and he couldn't let him wander on his own. Not when he knew what mischief the castle could inflict.

"Pinig." He called out, moving a bit more quickly to catch up with the elfling.

He was peering into a chest, and vanished around a corner when Legolas began to move after him, but the sound of the voice made him pause, and he glanced over his shoulder, and then froze and swung more properly around when he saw the fair hair of the other elf. This he stared at with wide green eyes before looking into his face and cocking his head to the side.

"I don't know you." It was unusual, for anyone with such bright hair. It seemed he was related to most of those he met with hair that wasn't black or brown. There were some exceptions, but they were related too, he thought. The Lady Galadriel was, and maybe some of her other relatives were. He tried to remember names, but their names were funny. After thought, he did find one. Celegorm the Fair. This elf's hair was fair.

"You're not allowed here, the King said so." This wasn't Doriath, it wasn't home, but that didn't seem to matter at the moment.

The reaction was unexpected. He didn't know the elfling either but the king saying he wasn't allowed there? There was no king in Cair Paradisa, not for so long as he had been there. And he knew his father wouldn't have told him he wasn't allowed here. With some of the things the castle did, sometimes there only was the castle. And then sometimes they were somewhere entirely different.

"And what king is that, little one? There are no kings here."

His eyes darted around slightly, a little surreptitiously, as though checking his surroundings. "The King.

"Where is here, if he's not? And what am I doing here?"

"There are many kings in the world. Perhaps you would be kind enough to give me a name?" It was actually cute the way he spoke, Legolas could hardly find it in him to be even a little upset. At least for the moment.

"You are in Cair Paradisa, a magic castle. Though I cannot tell you why, exactly."

"... The King who lives in Menegroth. King Graymantle." He blinks several times at the name, and looks like he wants to be a little suspicious, but is too confused for it to take.

"Is that in Doriath?"

Legolas froze briefly, wondering if he'd heard that right. It wasn't uncommon for people from different times to arrive but Doriath. Thingol. This was so much farther in the past than he'd ever expected to see anyone.

He tried to hide the shock though, for the elfling.

"We are very far from Doriath, I fear. And I do not know the way back."

"Did you take me to Nargathrond?" He sounds out the name a little slowly, as if he's not entirely familiar with it. In his defense, it was rarely enough mentioned at home, even if it was more than nearly any other outside kingdom. He is beginning to look slightly wary. The other seemed too surprised at everything, it wasn't right.

"No, little one. We are not in Nargathrond either." Places that didn't exist anymore and Legolas really wasn't sure how to even try approaching that subject. So clearly the best answer was to not go near it if her could help it.

"We are very far from any place either of us know, I fear. I promise though, you will get home in time."

His look becomes dark and suspicious, and after a moment he turned and ran. He was faster than he looked, but then he was an elf, and they often were.

He couldn't leave a child running about the castle on his own, especially not an elf child. The castle was always showing how unpredictable it could be; he, Galadriel and his father had learned that on more than one occasion. Leaving an elfling to that was against all his better judgement.

So, of course, he ran after him. The child was fast but he was as well. And he had longer legs.

By now, he'd learned about the loss and found his father as a child. And he was doing his best to keep an eye on him and keep him out of trouble. He'd only lost track of Thranduil for a few minutes, at least, before he found him outside. Even with the resistance elves had, it was still cold. And he was a child right now.

"Thranduil. At least wear a cloak if you are going to be out in this weather." He tsk'd softly and slipped his cloak from his own shoulders. It was too big for him but at least it would be warm.

Another blonde figure walks across the top of the snow in the castle gardens, though this one was much, much taller. She had simply been out for a walk, but when she spotted an elfling skimming across the snow, she had to stop and make her approach.

It was not Legolas, as had been her first thought; she has seen him de-aged before. But the resemblance is strong enough that she's fairly certain she knows who the boy is. Not that it's the most urgent thing at the moment. She stops a few feet away, calling out to him in Sindarin.

"Are you not cold, little one? Where is your cloak?"

[Wade strolls outside, admiring the winter weather. Her mittened hands are outstretched to catch the soft fall of snowflakes, and boots scuff on the frosted grass below.

It takes her a moment to notice the child, and his lack of winter clothes]

Hey!

And so I'm offering this simple phrase

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