forget the bull in the china shop

[rowancrowned]

WHO: Thranduil (rowancrowned ), Legolas (parkourprince ), and Cassandra (stabsbooks )
WHAT: Finally getting Galadriel out of prison, Mirkwood style.
WHEN: Mid-Drakonis
WHERE: Cassandra's Office
NOTES: Occurs morning after this.

Displeasure left a sour note in his mouth—he was far less prepared than he would have preferred. But he has the bare minimum; knowledge of the language, an outfit suitable for his rank, and support in the form of his son, behind him by one step and to the right, where he ought to be. His hair hung long and silver-blonde down his back, his circlet set just-so, the rich brocade of his robes and the silk of his clothes adding to his appearance. Legolas was similarly stunning, and he mourned that his son was not also crowned. Perhaps it would have been too much.

He arrived at Cassandra’s door half an hour after she had entered for the morning. The elven servants had been very helpful when it came to advising him and his son of her schedule. Catch her now, after she had eaten, before she had trained—catch her at what he thought would be her most malleable. Thranduil would take every advantage he could—he would need it.

He knocked, waited for a response to affirm he could enter, and swept inside with a rustle of silk and the sound of his and Legolas’ well-cobbled boots on the flagstones.

Thranduil bowed—no, Thranduil inclined his head the precise number of degrees appropriate for a king addressing a foreign diplomat, gave Legolas the space to do the same, and then spoke.

“Seeker Pentaghast—“ the insignia on her chest piece meant she could be no one else. “I am Thranduil Oropherion. This is my son and heir, Legolas Thranduilion.” He indicated Legolas beside him with an elegant little gesture before returning his attention to her. “I understand there have been difficulties with my cousin, the Lady Galadriel. I would remedy them.”
 

Comments

[rowancrowned]

“I have met enough to know them valuable, Seeker. Especially when you are so low on allies. Who better to scout than the Dalish, who know a great deal about keeping quiet and out of sight?” As well as the much, much more important worth of elven servants, given little thought, as much part of the landcape as the papers on her desk. Did she know their names? Did she know how much they knew?

That was best left unsaid. After all, it wouldn’t due for her to become too paranoid.

“We are all of us elves, Seeker. I think you will find we are all in agreement on most things. For examples, my cousin’s confinement. It displeases the elves here- who, if what I have seen is correct, clean your rooms, do your laundry, pass your messages, make your food—and at a fraction the cost of the human servants! How well would Skyhold function- how well would the Inquisition function if you lost them? Not only that, but the Rifters as well. Your confinment of my cousin sets a dangerous precident. You need as many as possible willing to close the rifts. The loss of three or four due to moral objections could prove… difficult.”

Eventually, he had to list consequences. He let his arm rest on the arm of the chair, the other folded, rubbing his thumb over the back of the ring on his left finger. “She has been frightened enough. Releasing her gains you goodwill with Rifters and elves both. Prevent nasty misunderstandings from happening in the future—arrange for a treaty for an alliance with the Quendi. That way all of us will know what we owe the other—and it will be clean and legal to punish her should she step out of line the next time, and utterly without objection from myself or my son.”

[parkourprince]

It was good, the touch, and it was timed impeccably. It prevented the toothy sneer — a threat no less than the glint of a bared knife would be — from surfacing, it soothed hackles raised at ignorance and arrogance flung every which way, it... grounded him. This was meant to be as much a show for Cassandra, as it was simply the truth of the matters. Legolas's loyalty was undisputed, Thranduil and no other held it in his hand, and with loyalty came obedience and complete trust, neither forced nor demanded, but willingly given instead. For the nth time since coming here, Legolas thanked the Fade — or whatever stood behind them being here — that neither of them was alone in this. Thranduil had his support, and so this time his mouth remained shut, floodgates against the tide of words that would do them no good.

His temper was not an easy fire to extinguish, and though the flame was gone, the cinders remained. And Legolas listened still, attentively though he made no show of it, and he sipped the brandy as they spoke, grimacing but barely at the flavour so unpleasant to his palate.

[stabsbooks]

She's sharp enough to pick up on the implication behind what he says, and her eyes narrow, her expression going dark. Cassandra does not respond well to threats, unspoken or otherwise.

"I see," she says coldly, and makes herself stop before she can say any more. Much as she hates to admit it, he is right. Leliana is right. They cannot afford to alienate the Dalish, nor the rifters.

She dislikes this elf already, if only for his arrogance in coming here, like this, and for his relation to Galadriel. But she cannot help a grudging respect, all the same. He had not come unprepared.

Still.

"Frightened," she spits out, shaking her head. It's difficult to believe. Galadriel had acted anything but frightened. She could point out that what she had done had been perfectly legal, will be if she has to do it again, but she doesn't. That's not important. What's important - what she had failed to account for before, what had been made all too clear to her - is how people react.

"And the Dalish?" She raises a single eyebrow. "You may not object, but they will, should she be arrested again." It's obvious from her tone that this is a very real concern. She has no reason to believe that Galadriel will behave, that she won't immediately do something that will force Cassandra to send her straight back to the dungeons. "You cannot speak for all of them."

[parkourprince]

"The Dalish are no fools, and neither are they mindless savages, show us all respect and some good-will and you will be shown the same in return. That is all that is needed, that is all any would ever ask for." That was what he had always thought to be simply common sense, until he came here anyway. So the obvious had to be stated, again and again, and though his patience was at its limit, he fought back against venom and he fought back against rolling his eyes.

"What you have at your hands now, are rumours allowed to fester, and now doubt and distrust seeps out like pus from an infected wound. Your next steps taken are what will determine whether this wound begins to heal, or rots into something far worse than this now."

He fought back a shrug, a sigh, and any further sign of disapproval with some success. In the end, he just sounded tired and a touch bored, but Thranduil outlined the consequences already and Legolas just stopped there and then, and let him continue as he saw fit.

[rowancrowned]

He nodded as Legolas spoke, and added: “They will respect myself and my son for the same reasons they respect her. I cannot promise impunity if you are cruel with the lady, but we can smooth ruffled feathers.”

Thranduil leaned forward in his chair—Legolas’ fussing impossible to miss, and with his temper up too—they ought to finish this, or at least wrap it up for the day.

“Are we in agreement, then, Seeker? You release the Lady Galadriel, my son and I handle the Dalish reaction, and we set down in writing what the obligations of myself, my son, and the Lady Galadriel are to the Inquisition. An alliance treaty, if you will, as binding as your laws allow, with penalties if the provisions therein are broken.”

[stabsbooks]

Cassandra's mouth curves down in a frown. She doesn't like this, and she doesn't have anything near Legolas' confidence that the Dalish will be so quick and so eager to fall in line. That centuries of bad blood - on both sides - can be smoothed over with a touch of respect and goodwill.

But something must be done about Galadriel, and Thranduil is the first who has offered anything near to an assurance that the threat she poses could be quelled. If nothing else, he will be obligated to help stop her, if she threatens the Inquisition again.

And if he refuses to help, should the time come, he will face the consequences for breaking an official treaty.

Slowly, she nods. Time may prove him foolish, perhaps. She understands, now, the regard that the Dalish have for Galadriel, despite her otherworldly origin. It is possible, perhaps even probable, that they will regard Thranduil the same way. But awe and wonder do not equal blind obedience, and Thranduil, for all that he claims to be, does not know the Elves' history.

Still, that is his lesson to learn, if he must learn it. Perhaps he is right, and the Dalish will listen. For herself, Cassandra is tired. Tired of Galadriel, of her disagreement with Leliana, of the judgement and disapproval of the Dalish and - it seems - everyone else. And no one else has offered anything close to a solution.

"A treaty," she repeats. "Yes. If we can manage to compose one that suits us both, I will sign it. And I will uphold my end."