(no subject)

[rowancrowned]

WHO: Thranduil + closed prompts for Galadriel, Atticus, Ellana, Gwenaëlle, Myrobalan, + open!
WHAT: Thranduil's phase one afflictions are noticed by several and enable the behavior of others.
WHEN: Mid-Firstfall
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Hit me up for a starter on Plurk (pr0ph3t) or make your own!

Comments

[rowancrowned]

No one bids him to sit in his own office—that at least shakes clear some of the cobwebs and allows him the time to still himself, to look up slowly from the contents of his desk to Atticus proper. He doesn’t dignify that with a response before he turns his eye back towards the work, and ah, there, his salvation.

“Are you familiar with House Asgard of Marnus Pel?”

Loki has saved him, although he cannot know it. Perhaps this was the thing he needed Atticus for—yes, he decides. It was. Or, at the very least, it does not hurt for him to address it now, with him. It needed to be handled anyway.

[minrathousian]

"Are you familiar with House Asgard of Marnus Pel?"

That, more than the severe and kingly look that Thranduil turns upon him, elicits more of a reaction from Atticus. He raises his eyebrows and exhales.

"Yes," he replies, in the tone of voice one might adopt while discussing one's ill-favoured in-laws, "I have some passing familiarity with them."

A curious turn of his head. "Why do you ask?"

[rowancrowned]

Atticus has not managed to show enthusiasm about anything, still the same plodding Tevene magister, nothing to recommend him-- perhaps Thranduil should take some delight in pulling this from him, even if it isn't much at all.

"The scion of the house and his younger brother have come to join us. The younger one immediately voiced that he thought you to be Venatori, and that your reason for joining us," Thranduil states, easily.

'I found him delightful, personally' he leaves off, it is irrelevant and he finds no joy in needling Atticus.

[minrathousian]

“Well,” comes Atticus’ mild reply, “I was. Yet it seems his information is a trifle dated.”

Which is to be expected, he supposes. The oily fop is from Marnas Pel, after all.

Atticus scrutinizes Thranduil coolly, considering his demeanour. A deeper frown creases his brow. “Forgive me for being blunt,” or don’t, he’ll endure regardless, “but you seem ill.”

[rowancrowned]

He gives Atticus a long look, staring him down with a mixture of distain in the curl of his lip and the way his brows are posed to suggest 'are you stupid', and then goes back to his papers, shuffling them into piles which he then tucks away.

"How might he have known? Useless to us now, and an easy assumption given your," a gesture, "presence, and your disappearance from Tevene society, as small as shrinking a very small thing can be, have you yet written your family to assure them of your safety?"