faderift | (no subject)

WHO: Fingon and open
WHAT: Open log for Wintermarch
WHEN: Wintermarch
WHERE: In and around Kirkwall
NOTES: No warnings so far, will update if that changes

I. Outside the City

After the sheer misery that was Haring's weather, even the slightest uptick in warmth is a welcome relief. Fingon celebrates by getting out of the city as much as he can during the sunlit hours, wandering the Wounded Coast as he wishes. If there's hunting to be had or monsters to be fought that's fine with him, but it's the chance to move freely and simply enjoy the sunlight that he really wants.

II. Lowtown

It's no secret that there's no place for gossip like a tavern, and Fingon's come to like a few of the ones in Lowtown. The quality of the drinks varies and if that of the food did as well it would be an improvement, but the sailors, merchants, and travelers who make up the clientele are what he's really there for. It still feels like he's piecing together how this world works, and listening to its people speak in casual conversation is as good a way to learn as any.

On his way back to the Gallows he often browses the market stalls, looking for any sufficiently interesting trinkets to bring back to his kin.

III. Around the Gallows

Fingon frequents many places in the Gallows, whether pestering his cousin in the forge or on the training grounds. But at the moment he's in the library, the history books he's been working through temporarily shoved aside in favor of lighter fare.

Or at least, what is meant to be lighter fare. Noir fiction is more than a bit perplexing if you have no context for the genre, who would have thought?

IV. Wildcard

Have a more interesting idea? Feel free to hit Fingon with it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The kingship is hardly a loss. There's a remarkably limited appeal to Wearing a Fancy Headdress While Being Ignored, even without the workload and the targets the position still manages to place on one's back.

Still, there's something to this young woman's tone that seems...off. Fingon raises an eyebrow as he turns to her, absently noting the tattoos. Dalish he recognizes, even as a neophyte to these lands; Inquisition is the obvious next step, even if he hasn't noted her personally around the Gallows.

"The one I've been using here is Fingon," he responds, "Though the custom of my people is to have more than one, and I suppose I could answer to those as well. Is there any particular reason you would ask, lady?"

With that confirmation, Ellana's mouth curves into a smile. She isn't sure just how she'd react to a son of Fëanor yet. This is better.

"Because I knew of Eldar here who I hadn't met yet, and I wanted to know which you were." Surely he can understand the reasoning, if he's familiar with the Fëanorians. "I was told a little about you by one of the Galadhrim, Haldir. Oh, I'm Ellana. It's nice to meet you."

Well, he can certainly follow the logic; whether he agrees with it or not is a more complicated matter.

"Well met, lady Ellana. You are a friend of my lady cousin's, then?" It makes sense to think so, if she knows of the Eldar enough to speak with Galadriel's captain concerning their identities.

And he is going to have to find a way to politely suggest that Haldir needn't run around telling stories of others' deeds in Arda, isn't he?

Edited 2018-01-12 07:31 (UTC)

"Of Galadriel? Yes. I was friends with her the first time she was here too." They had their share of adventures back then. Ellana learned much of Middle-earth that way, and taught Galadriel a bit about the elves of Thedas in return. Though she's sorry to see her friend taken away from her duty at home, she won't deny that it's good to see her once more.

Haldir could hardly be blamed for speaking of the High King when Ellana directly asked for his opinion, can he? There wasn't anything akin to gossip; only what Haldir knew before suggesting she find out more for herself, which she's doing now.

"Have you settled in all right?"

"I see. It's been some time since I've seen Galadriel- and I understand it's been rather longer for her than for me."

It's hardly a fault of Haldir's, of course. But the title means many things to Fingon- a dead father's legacy, a kingdom at war, isolation even amidst the people who love him. It is not something he would prefer to share with new acquaintances, even if he hadn't been asked to be discreet about Middle Earth and its history.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose. It can be very frustrating being away from home, but I have been fortunate in my company."