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WHO: Elros & you!
WHAT: Back in Kirkwal after the dragon fight, and Elros is remembering how annoying having "parents" around can be. Help a man sneak out for an unsupervised drink?
WHEN: the latter half of December
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: probably nothing, but there may or may not be family drama.

For the Family - YOU ARENT MY REAL DAD

Elros glares, paces the floor agitatedly and snarls at the confinement.

"It's a scratch! Galadriel was away, Master Anders did a good job, I'm healed! I'll not be confined to my room like a child!"

For the Neighbours and those passing by - 90 is too old to be sneaking out the room, right?

It's taken him a full two days, and Elrond would shake his head at him if he knew, but he's finally managed to wrangle time alone without one of his kinsmen in the room, and its the work of a moment to pick the lock and sneak into the corridor. The yelling and throwing things probably was heard by all around, so Elros is hoping no one is actually here to see him slide silently across the hallway, wincing as he steps on a loose floorboard and it creaks.

Maybe tomorrow he'll try climbing out the window instead.

Tavern

He's laughing, open, friendly, sharing a drink or a tale or a song or a game of dice, totally forgetting that he was meant to be quiet and careful, so as not to be found out.

"Hello stranger! Come and join us!"

Training Fields

Normally, he'd have stayed away for a little while longer, but Anders' magic healing has left him itching in his skin. He has no ship to sail, and the fishermen can only sometimes be persuaded to take him out, so the training fields it is, the longsword singing in his hands as he pushes himself.

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"Ah, that I did not know." Elros notes that but does not draw any further attention to it.

"Perhaps! It's so new a home that I think I'm more homesick for the people than the land, but that might change, I suppose. What draws you from your home?"

"Ah, that would be what I just showed you. Otherwise, I would have stayed with my people. But I admit, it's been an adventure so far! I've been far north, helped slay a kraken and those Venatori arsholes...still waiting on that high dragon, but I can be patient. It's out there somewhere, and then maybe I'll be Skadi Dragonslayer instead. That has a nice ring to it, eh?"

She flashes a grin and takes another sip. "Isn't there a whole mess of familiar faces for you here? With them, I'm surprised you have time to get homesick." There may be a slight envious glance at that; it's wearying to be the only one of her kind here, now that Kattrin has left.

Elros slaps a hand approvingly on the bar.

"Now that's the sort of attitude I can understand! If you have to go, why not make an adventure of it, eh? So far, I've fought a dragon here for a king, but they wouldn't allow me to kill it. Annoying, but hopefully it was a useful exercise politically at least. Don't know what sort of dragon it was, although it was much easier than fighting those of my own world - no intelligence or magic. I hope you have the chance at yours!"

He waggles his hand in an 'eh' gesture.

"Yes and no - I never knew Fingon, he died before my time. Maglor and Maedhros are... complicated. I love them dearly but I hate them almost as much, some days. Galadriel I haven't seen in a while, but although I am very fond of her, I did not know her well, and Thranduil I never met, although I briefly knew his father."

"Ah, right, I heard something about people not being from the same point in time. That must be a mind-trip all in itself, aye? Still, the fact that you have much in common with them isn't something take lightly in a place where all is different. I don't envy how much catching up you lot have to do, that's for sure." She pauses to take a swig.

"Dragonhide makes the toughest armor, by the way. If you get the chance to kill one, don't leave that behind. That's my goal, second to the glory."

"Very much so." Elros agrees with a draw from his mug. "I can't complain though, they all seem to be... tentatively getting along so far. And here I thought I was done with family politics!"

"Does it now?" He hums, eyes bright in interest. "I should have asked for a share as a reward... oh well. Always next time. What's the difference between the dragons here? Does it make a difference to the hide?"

"As I understand it, the difference is mostly in what breath weapon they use. Some breath fire, while others have cold or lightning to use against us. Either way, you don't want to be caught in the middle of that blast, if you can help it." Skadi shrugs a little. "For the most part, no. Dragonhide almost always protects against fire, whatever the dragon breathed. I don't know why. But the hide of some ice dragons in the Frostbacks gives ample protection against the cold instead. Either can be damn useful, to be sure."

"Lightning!" He whistles. "I've seen cold drakes as well as fire drakes, and some of ours had a venom, but none shot lighting - that must be a hard fight! And you're right - both properties sound emminently useful. You don't see much use for the hides in my world - the slime is venomous, often, and the blood can be too. Far too much effort."

"They're all hard fights, that's what makes them glorious! You've not truly lived without a challenge." At least that's the Avvar perspective talking. Doubtless plenty of lowlanders would disagree, but if they want to be soft, that's their business.

"Get yourself someone who knows what they're doing when you slay one, and you'll have enough hide to armor yourself and sell to others. Short of that, dragonling hide is the way to go. It doesn't protect as much, but it'll do in a pinch."

"Exactly!" Elros nods.

"That's what I said too, but my foster fathers get all flustered about me dying. Psh. I'll die eventually, why waste time wondering about what if?"

At that, Skadi looks him over with a raised eyebrow. "Why are they so worried about you dying? You look hale enough to me." She's no healer, it's true, but nothing about him tips off any chronic condition as far as she can see.

"Because they are mother-hens." Elros rolls his eyes but there is a fondness to him.

"I suppose it isn't as if their family has a great track record of surviving, but we've also been technically at war for the last several thousand years."

"That long? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, it's not as though Thedas is ever really at peace. But there are usually different reasons for that, outside Blights." Ske takes an appreciative sip, then leans back. "What's your own war about, then?"

"It's what happens when a good chunk of the people fighting are essentially immortal." Elros pulls a face.

"And would you believe Ultimate Evil is actually a bastard? Because that's... pretty much what it boils down to. Oh, there's a lot of stupid decisions too, as inevitably happens, but if you break it right down, Morgoth really is just a bastard and it's probably mostly his fault, always. We're all glad he's been cast out at last."

"Immortal, eh? That only happened to the elves of long ago, supposedly. I wonder if being in Thedas will change that for them." Skadi shrugs, not able to say one way or another but no native-born elf in Thedas is immortal now. "So, a bastard bastard then." She grins at that. "He sounds like the ultimate black sheep of the family. I'm glad he's not here to stir up shite, we've enough to go around."

"I heard something of the like, although the natives all seem to be either EXTREMELY touchy or poorly informed, which strikes me as a mess all around." Elros shrugs.

"But I know enough of my elven kin as well as the nature and ability of the Powers to know that the Gifts of the One are not easily revoked - not for Men or for the Elves. They are tied to the world, and unless Arda itself be destroyed, I do not think anything here can change that."

He grimaces. "Times a hundred. The original, if you like. He was the greatest of the Powers, once, but he sunk so much of himself into the world that on the one hand he is tied to his physical form and may be harmed in that form, but he is also utterly and intrinsically tied to Arda itself, and although he is banished beyond the Doors of the World, everyone knows, inevitably, he will return. The only sure defeat for him is to destroy the world itself. As you can imagine, no one is terrribly keen on that last."

"You went and asked them about losing their immortality? Oh, Lady, that must've been a sight." Skadi shakes her head, knowing she lacks subtlety herself but hasn't yet provoked that response.

"So, the Powers are gods or akin to gods? And what are the Doors, exactly? Is that how you crossed over?"

"They lost their immortality? How did that happen?" Elros blinks confusedly.

"No, I asked about why everyone seems to hate elves so much and how they got conquered and got yelled at. It really is like dealing with the Easterlings." He sighs and shakes his head.

"Ah, as to that, I'd suggest if you want details you ask one of the Elves - my kinsmen, that is. Maglor, Maedhros, Fingon and Galadriel were all born in Aman, and studied at the Powers' feet. What I know comes mostly second hand, although my family in particular are Ulmo's favourites, and the Lord of the Waters and his vassals can be quite chatty, when the mood strikes them. Lord Osse is especially fond of me. But they are like gods, although they are always quick to remind us that they really aren't. The Doors of Night are... I really have no idea, in honesty! But apparently it has something to do with the barrier that the Valar hold around the world, so... I honestly have no idea!"

"Ah, they can be pretty touchy about the conquering...especially the Dalish. Their motto is 'never again shall we submit' or something like that. It's true that the Dales is now ruled by Orlais, but the Dalish left rather than bow to human rule."

Skadi shrugs, knowing little more than that. "According to legend, it was us humans that were at fault. Just being near us caused them to age and sicken and die. So, they turned inward and that caused a chain reaction that lead to Tevinter conquering them. Mind you, all that's so long ago that I can't say how much of it's the truth. Maybe they were never immortal and the old tales were exaggerated."

That makes more sense to her mind, but she can't prove it any more than she can prove the rest. "A barrier? What kind of barrier, and why would they make one in the first place?"

"I noticed." He says dryly. "You'd think, that if they can admit a 'never again', it rather implies that they WERE, but apparently they can't see that. You rather need to be conquered in the first place to be rebels at all."

He shrugs. "No idea how it works. I might've chosen my mortal kin, but that choice was mine, not anyone elses doing, and my brother Elrond and I are... something of a unique case. Turning inward is never smart, in any case. It always leaves you vulnerable."

He grins wryly. "To keep Morgoth out? I don't know, but that would be my guess."

Edited 2017-12-29 09:07 (UTC)

"You...chose to be mortal?" Skadi stares in open confusion. "How would that even work?" The rest of it can wait, she wants to hear about how that can possibly make sense.

"I did." Elros shrugs.

"I did say my brother and I are... somewhat unique. The sons of heroes, the foster-sons of villains. Children of Fate and Destiny, blah blah blah. We are related, by blood, to every royal line of the Edain and Eldar both - that's Men and Elves, if you like. And we're related to the Powers themselves - one of our foremothers was Melian, the Maia of the Twilight, who loved an elf and bore him a child, Luthien the Fair, who bested both Morgoth and Death for love of her mortal husband. Our father is Earendil the Mariner, the Morning and Evening Star, who slew Ancalagon the Great and pilots Vingilot in the heavens as a sign, our mother is Elwing, Elu's heir, who flies in a seabird's skin. You can see why the Powers gave a collective shrug and essentially passed the choice of our final fate to us! I suppose they thought they were doing us a favor."

"Lady above...I don't know what all those terms mean, but that sounds like a hell of a family tree." Skadi shakes her head, taking another swig from her drink that's been a mite neglected. "But why make that choice? If my twin sister chose one fate, I don't think I'd have it in me to chose something else."

"It rather is." Elros shrugs, and then falters, pain flitting through his eyes.

"We...didn't think to ask each other. We were...so sure. When Elrond heard my choice...oh my brother! The look of betrayal he gave me... But I couldn't stay. I wanted to know what was on the other side. I didn't want to linger. But Elrond wanted the opposite."

"Siblings can be contrary, that I understand." Her expression shifts to one of sympathy, for all that she can never truly understand what it is to be put in that situation. "And you couldn't take back that choice even if you wanted? That's a weighty choice to bear for the rest of time, either way."

"No. Death is the Gift of Men - to choose that fate is to step outside the known path of the Song, to surrender yourself to the unknown for the opportunity to change your fate. You cannot go back. I knew that then, and still I would not change it, but the grief that divides us is very great."

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