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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"Korrin Ataash, of the Free Marches and the Valo-Kas company." She never leaves that last part out when she can help it, regardless of what others might think of mercenaries.

"Qunari are treated like shit, too. Humans are afraid of us or they think us beasts just because we have horns. My advice? Don't go to Orlais, if you can help it. The racism's even worse there. If you're not a human noble, you're only fit to kiss their asses."

She tilts her head, a little curious. "So, would I be right in assuming you're from the same place as the other unusually tall rifter elves?"

"Well met, Korrin Ataash." the titles mean little to him, but he respects them because they hold importance to her. Everyone has a place in the world - he may be given the chance to have a place in two - and they help form a strong, stable identity. Thingol misses his old identities, however he is prepared to take on a new mantle or two.

"I think your horns are beautiful." he, luckily, holds no value in the opinions of Men. The Qunari are interesting to see and he wants to encounter more of them. It is not often that he has to look up to another regardless if their personalities clash!

"Arda?" his lips twitched, "More specifically, Middle Earth, though I resided on Aman for a time at the beginning."

When he says beginning, he truly means the beginning. When he awoke, there were only stars in the sky - no sun and no moon.

"Do you know Thranduil and Galadriel?"

Korrin wasn't fishing for compliments, just complaining about stupid human prejudices, so receiving one is a welcome surprise. She smiles. "Well, thank you. Say that to the others and you'll win them over. I'm pretty sure we never hear that enough." She's not vain about much else, but given the polish on those horns, it's fair to say she takes pride in keeping them intact and groomed.

Aman, of course, isn't any more known to her than Arda or Middle Earth, so she just nods. She's about to ask more, when his last question derails her thought process. "...somewhat, yeah. I've worked with them on some Inquisition missions, though that's about it. Thranduil's more interested in his fellow elves, of which I'm obviously not. Same with Galadriel."

Galadriel...is a whole other can of worms, one that the Inquisition has already dealt with before very publicly. That Korrin doesn't get into it now is partly out of manners for a newcomer, partly because she's weary from the topic. If there's need to discuss it, she won't hold back, but not until then.

"There used to be another...Legolas? Thranduil's son. We got along alright, hung out at the archery range sometimes. He hasn't been in Thedas for a while, though."

Edited 2017-02-07 19:27 (UTC)

His smile is genuine, the blue of his eyes warming like a sun-filled sky. "That is a shame. I do not understand how they are not complimented over-much!" Thingol is the sort of King that likely donned the fallen antlers of stags depending on the season!

"You take fine care of them." his eyes are sharp enough to see how she polishes them, "I will likely share Thranduil's interest where our fellows are concerned. Their treatment chafes us, you see, for we are respected and valued on Arda." by most - not all. The Dwarves for example probably wish ill on both of them and for good reason.

"I have not encountered Galadriel yet. What is she like?" Thingol blinks, "His son?" his heart aches, clenching and he exhales shakily, smiling after a moment's pause, "Does he favor Thranduil?"

"In looks? Yeah, I can see it. I don't know Thranduil well enough to tell if he does in other ways." And she's just fine with that, given how his company has previously grated on her at one point or another. "As for Galadriel...you probably want the opinion of someone less biased, honestly. I'm...not a fan, though I'll cooperate for the sake of the Inquisition, when I have to do it."

Her mouth has formed a thin line as she speaks, and despite her mild tone there's a hard glint in her eyes. Galadriel is not one of her favorite people and not without good reason, though that's a lot to throw on a newcomer. Instead, she turns her thoughts to better news. "It's not all bad, about the elves. The Inquisition was around for the ball at the Winter Palace, to determine peace talks in Orlais. It was a fucking mess, but the result is that Empress Celene reunited with her elven spymaster, Ambassador Briala. She's now a Marquise of the Dales, the first elf to hold a title and the first person to rule the Dales in centuries. It's not nothing."

Edited 2017-02-09 15:56 (UTC)

"He is the jewel of his father's eye, then." he speaks with remembered warmth. He had wanted a son - what King doesn't? - but he had wanted a daughter even more. Melian had provided! Oh his Lúthien had been the prettiest child and he had not wished to ever let her go. Yet life intervened - love intervened - and he lost his daughter entirely.

He prays Thranduil's relationship with Legolas lasts longer. For an eternity seems a reasonable time period, truly.

"I will find sharp honesty from you. Tell me what about her bothers you so? I have no bias." Thingol sees that hard glint and he challenges her to put her emotions into words. Knowledge is precious - even if it's biased.

"That is improvement! I would like to see Elves holding many titles if they can prove themselves worthy of them."

"To be bluntly honest? She's dangerously arrogant and callous to anyone who doesn't kiss her ass. In the time she's been here, rifters -already side-eyed for popping into our world from a place previously known to just harbor demons and spirits- have been put under even more scrutiny because of her attitude and actions. One of those people was my lady love, who rightfully told Galadriel that she was making trouble for other rifters like herself. Galadriel's response? To frighten her with threats." Korrin's hands double up into fists, and though her gloves don't show it, it's a fair bet that her knuckles grow white.

"She also seems to have no problem casually using her weird mental powers on people, which I shouldn't have to say is a gross invasion all on its own. One reason why blood mages are so feared in Thedas is because their power can influence minds. Hell, normal mages are feared because they might be blood mages. Irresponsible shit like that? Affects us all, so yeah, I'm pissed about it."

Well these were juicy details! Thingol kept his expression unreadable, his eyes narrowing slightly at the mention of a lady love. Ah, so there was the spark that caused the inferno.

"Holding anger against an Elf will do you little good. We are stubborn - oftentimes to our detriment." he knew that lesson well and he had learned from it, "You should not fear her powers. They do not originate from the Dark."

Galadriel might indeed use her power too freely, yet Thingol trusted that she was not in the Enemy's clutches. Now if she had been a Fëanorian, he might have been concerned!

"With age comes understanding, but there also comes a point when the affairs of the world matter little to you. All you care for is that those you love are protected most." his eyes were unfocused, distant, "It is dangerous to become so complacent; to shield your eyes against everyone and everything outside of your home. She may have forgotten to keep her eyes and ears open."

Edited 2017-03-08 12:11 (UTC)

"If you think you can remind her of that, be my guest. I doubt she'll listen to anyone who doesn't have the right pointed ears." Korrin briefly gestures to her own, which indeed are pointed but jut outward more than an elf's. Combined with the horns and...no, she's obviously not close enough to matter when it comes to such things. She could tell that by the way Galadriel and the other elves effectively closed ranks during that one mission.

"And I care less about where they originate than what she does with them and how it affects the rest of us. You think ordinary people will understand or give a shit that it's not blood magic or another dark source? Even if they realize there's a difference, it'll still freak them the fuck out, and rightfully so. That kind of fear always creates a backlash for all mages, elven and otherwise. Maybe it's easier not to care about what happens in this world when you can hope to leave it someday, but the rest of us still have to live here."

His gaze was sympathetic, but a hint of amusement remained in his eyes and around his lips. "Your ears are nearly as striking as your horns. They are not what makes you different in her eyes." his eyes never left her face as he murmured, "It is your age that sets you apart."

There was wisdom and experience that only came with living for an exceptionally long time. The Elves of Arda had never had an easy time - mainly due to their own mistakes and limitations - and trust did not come easily, especially in a foreign land. No, a foreign world. Thingol empathized with Lady Galadriel, yet he knew diplomacy was needed.

"Your world is changing. You do not need to accept it for it to be so. We all must cope in our own way and if her abilities disturb you and others, I think all you can do is be frank with her and avoid her company if necessary."

There's a twitch of a smile at the compliment about her ears, though she wasn't fishing for one, just trying to make a point.

"Oh, I plan to. Trust me, I've tried to keep to that since the clusterfuck of last year. But if the Inquisition assigns us together, I'm not ignoring shit that can come back to harm me or other people." The only reason why she's held back is because Korrin's worried about another backlash against rifters, of which her lady love is one. That and she would rather not burn bridges with Ellana if she doesn't have to...but there are only so many chances she can give.

"Age, huh? Well. That's an impossible standard for the rest of us to be measured up against, isn't it? We're not immortal beings who've been around forever. Though I gotta say, there's a perspective that comes of having limited time that immortals just don't have, too. We can't just wait things out for a few decades in hopes that they get better." Korrin's tone isn't bitter, merely pragmatic. She doesn't know what she would do with all the time anyway, but her perspective still counts for something.

"I suggest you make your feelings plain to the Inquisition. Pairing you together would not be a fortuitous turn for either of you - or the cause as a whole." Thingol glanced at his shoulder, smiling at a butterfly that took up residence there. Melian's influence had not completely left him, then, and his gaze was drawn, inextricably, to the forest.

Speaking of a lady love...

"Yes, it is impossible." he blinked at her next words, turning his focus back to her, "There is an in-between: we needn't be complacent or rash. I seek that middle ground so that I may understand mortality better."

How else would he connect with the Elves of this world?

"For those who do not wish to meet you - us -" his words were amended quietly, "let them stay stagnant. You will eventually leave them behind."

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[Open: To the homeless, a haven.]

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