faderift | [Open: To the homeless, a haven.]

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[Open: To the homeless, a haven.]

WHO: Thingol & Open!
WHAT: He is coming to grips with his new situation and planning for the future.
WHEN: Guardian, 9:43 Dragon
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: You can reach me on Plurk @

tiger_eyes or through PM/DM for plotting. I am happy to write starters.

He had thought, initially, that he was dreaming. Death had surely fallen upon him - thus freeing his spirit from his body - but instead of him stepping into the Halls of Mandos, he encountered a vicious demon bent on not only annihilating him but all around him. Thingol wasn't a coward - despite what popular opinion might say of him on Middle Earth - and so he had drawn his blade and fought side by side with a few that showed nothing but bravery in the face of a monstrosity.

The entire experience had felt unreal to him - even as he cut into the beast - however the moment he was wounded, he had begun to realize that he was not dreaming. He was not even dead! His body had traveled with him - thanks to gods or a spell - and, by Eru, he was alive again. The shock had remained with him as he traveled to Skyhold and it lingered as he made himself acquainted with the Inquisition and their actions.

Once he had been a mighty King, proud and ready to face any and all who threatened his kingdom. The Dwarves, the Nauglímir and the Silmaril had broken him of his pride - a positive change some might say - though it left him at a loss as to what to do with his time or where it should be spent best. For now, he walked the full expanse of Skyhold, breathing in the mountain air and letting his spirit and body settle into this new way of life; a life where he was not a king or even a lord. A life where Elves were valued very little.

A small smile touched his lips as he paused, peering out over the lands to the north. The Elves deserved a fine leader; someone or someones who could unite them and give them back their worth. Oh yes, that would be a fine use of his time indeed.

For now, all who approached him would be met with a piercing, calculating stare. If you think this Elf will be dominated or belittled so easily, you have the wrong idea. Aranrúth was loyally sheathed at his hip and Thingol took full advantage of his six foot and eight inches of height.

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"Well if I can remember my many titles then I'm sure I could remember your many names. However, I am happy to call you Thingol, my friend."

Iskandar laughed a bit, not at all thrown off by what he'd been told. If Thingol was the name he gave then that was the name that he would call him. That was all there was to it really. Perhaps it was a simplistic way of thinking but complexities were unnecessary presently.

"What are you up to here? Enjoying the view?"

"Are you a King?" he had a feeling - an instinct that he could not explain, "Thingol means Grey-cloak in the language of my kingdom." a suitable name for one with silver hair that fell, soft and silken to his waist. Even if he should be without a stitch to his name, he was still cloaked in grey.

"I am deciding on which way I should travel." his tone was pensive, "The Inquisition interests me, but I do not easily give my loyalty to another."

He was much too old to be so rash. Let the young charge headlong into danger; Thingol would concentrate instead on bettering the lives of Elven-kind.

"I am! It must show with how I hold myself, yes?" He laughed because he knew what his confidence levels did for his very aura.

"Ah. Have you looked at maps? There are forests near here and I could show you where they are. You look like one who might enjoy the forests more than some city where those there might try to foolishly demand your loyalty."

"I can sense you are royalty." he shrugged nonchalantly, a delicate smile curving his lips in the face of the other's confidence, "A glance or two. I shall need to look at them, but -"

It wasn't comfortable sitting still. At times like this when he felt overwhelmed and stressed, he sought the outdoors desperately.

"My kingdom resided in a great forest." he spoke softly, longingly, "Doriath was its name and it has been lost."

For without a King, what other fate would befall it?

"Mm. Mine was lost as well the day I fell to death. Reading the histories of my kingdom taught me this."

He looked out at the world before them then gave a wave of his hand. He liked the pretty Elf so far. If nothing else he was an interesting character and he was ready to get to know him better.

"Come. I can show you were the forests are here. My horse could use a ride for today anyway."

"There are histories of your death here?" Thingol felt a chill run down his spine. If such a text existed for Doriath, he would know the horrible truth. How could their fate be anything but heart-breaking?

He closed his eyes and grimaced lightly. When he opened his eyes, the expression was gone.

"Lead on, friend." he tilted his head, "Is there a second horse for me to use?"

"Here? No. But in my own world there are. This world is not my own so there would be no records to be found of such things."

He gave a laugh at the following question and gave a wave of his hand.

"Come! Come and I will show you where there are more horses so you may borrow one!"

"I wondered." and now he felt relief, his noble features relaxing, "I fear none of these mounts will match those raised by my people."

Oh woe. Thingol smirked at his own tone and followed, his robes shining in the sunlight. Or was that him shining in the sunlight? For such an Elf as he, it was entirely possible that he gave off such a bright aura.

"They are not. It is why I am pleased to have my own Bucephalus. Though perhaps you can see about obtaining your own horse to raise as you like while you are here."

He flashed him a smile over his shoulder then moved them into the stables where he showed him what horses were available for borrowing. That done, he went to saddle up a massive black animal who immediately moved forward to greet Iskandar. "Hello, my friend. We go for a ride today with our companion here."

"I must begin with a foal of the highest quality." and even then, it would be quite a task for the youngling. Thingol didn't have much taste for pushing children too hard, though he wondered if that was why his two left him in the end.

Or perhaps it was because he hadn't listened nearly enough.

He walked sedately from horse to horse before speaking in his native tongue to a silver mare. She stepped out easily and allowed him to saddle her without complaint.

"This lady will do." he swung himself easily onto her back and smiled at her eagerness.

"Ah she is a fine choice. I have seen others ride her and she enjoys the outings well."

With his horse saddled up, he got up onto the massive animal who immediately started to leave the stables. He knew what was going on and was more than ready to go on this ride. Daily walks were fine but to get extra time would never not excite him.

"This massive beast here is my Bucephalus. He has been my friend for many years and has carried me through many battles as well."

"Then I will not deny her this one." Thingol ran his fingers through the mare's mane, smoothing out any tangles. His eyes were soon focused on Bucephalus, however, and he encouraged his mare to walk at the great stallion's side.

"Would he be willing to breed with one of the mares?"

Yes, the Elven-King was seeking one of Bucephalus's foals! Was that a problem?

Edited 2017-03-10 13:49 (UTC)

"Breed? Ah he would be willing. Though I would be interested in seeing if he could produce a foal with one of the mares. A skilled beast he is but he is a spirit like myself. Since I cannot cause a woman to become pregnant, I'm not certain he could either."

It was unfortunate but it was a fact all the same. In the end they were both technically dead. It was unlikely any of their intimate adventures would cause someone to find out they were with child later.

"I suppose it could be attempted but I cannot promise results."

Which meant he had no problem with the elf wanting a foal with Bucephalus as the father. It just might not be something that could be accomplished.

"A spirit...?" Thingol extended a hand and touched a bearded cheek, eyebrows rising in unison, "You are solid for a spirit! As is he." he nodded at Bucephalus, pulling his hand back to stroke the horse's neck, "Yet, you are correct, if you are indeed spirits, his ability to give life will come to naught."

Though he could not deny that it would be amusing for the stallion to try. Thingol knew well the joy of that union - except with his wife, of course, and not a mare.

There were others who likely would be startled or uncomfortable to suddenly be touched like that then to have their beast touched as well. Iskandar simply smiled at the other and patted his horse as if that confirmed that they were both very solid indeed. "I should hope I am solid. My lovers might not be so satisfied with my performance if I was not."

He laughed after that yet somehow it seemed that he wasn't actually joking and really meant that. "If I find a beast as fine as mine then I shall point you his direction."

Thingol abided by manners all his own. He was not particularly accustomed to social cues - or he outright ignored them - and if he saw fit to touch another to confirm a conjecture, by Eru, he would do so. He was lucky that Iskandar had such a kind disposition.

"Do you keep many?" lovers, "I thought Men were like Elves in their courting?" meaning that if an Elf slept with someone - be they Elf or another race - a marriage was sealed.

"Thank you." he nudged his mare into a brisk trot, tying his long silver hair back as if the pace made no difference to him. Elves.

"I am not certain what the habits of elves are actually. I know some who enjoy to sleep about and some who do not. Much like mankind." As for many... "I had many in life as well as three wives. Here I have but two and a friend that I also enjoy bedding. Though I am always open to more."

He was not actually flirting with that last comment, just making a statement as he urged Bucephalus into a trot as well, easily keeping up just like any man used to being on the back of a horse.

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[Open: To the homeless, a haven.]

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