this town is only going to get worse.

[rowancrowned]

WHO: Thranduil and Solas / Adalia / Finch / Loki
WHAT: Catch-all log for July.
WHEN: Current, slight backdating to pre-negotiations.
WHERE: Various locations among Kirkwall, Skyhold.
NOTES: None applicable.

Comments

Finch

[rowancrowned]

They are to leave in the morning and Thranduil has no one to wish him well on his journey or waiting for him, so he comes down to the stable to think and steal a few minutes of quiet before he returns to his rooms and retires for the evening. He has his saddlebags packed and these he leaves at the entrance to the stables before going to the stall where he had settled the elk in after coaxing him off Sundermount and to the boat to the Gallows.

The bull is massive- they have him in the stall that Thranduil suspects is normally reserved for mother and foal, but he is passive enough about it, laying down, his front legs neatly folded under him and his massive rack taking up most of the space in the stall; Thranduil will be glad to get him out of the city and into the woods.

He is not very surprised to see someone in the stall alongside the elk, who chews contentedly. The bull is able to defend himself, so clearly the intruder is not that, but the food bribery may have helped sway him.

“Good evening,” he says to the child.

[justnice]

He doesn’t startle (the pad of footsteps; Thranduil isn’t a small man), but caution slips past his eyes all the same, worn as the way he shifts from the edge of the stall to earth below.

A fluid motion, familiar — at sudden odds with the awkwardness of standing, of stubby limbs still too grown too long. A child, perhaps. Or that strange space between.

"Provost," He doesn’t clean those offices, but he listens enough. A glance catches up — and up — and down again as abruptly, the elk’s antlers suddenly remembered beside its bulk. Finch presses against the edge of the stall, and slips the pipes back into his pockets. "You need, uh,"

Uh.

"A horse?"

Possibly in more than the immediate sense.

[rowancrowned]

"I am not leaving until the morning," he says. "And I will not need a horse."

The elk, he thinks, would be terribly offended by that. Nearly as offended as it is by the commotion. Sundermount is likely much less loud than Kirkwall, if only because Morrigan and her presumable mayorhood as giantest spider has made it so.

"I came to the stables to check on him." Him, the giant elk, the one rolling his eyes to look at Finch, then Thranduil, then exhaling through his nose.

"And you are?"

Despite the rumors and his own best efforts, he does not know all the elves in the Inquisition. Just most of them.