homeless, possibly looking to settle into a game somewhere

[summerlord]

Several thousand years' worth of history is daunting, Daughter of Man, and especially so when the manuscripts are not in your possession. These reservations did not cause such hesitation with prior muses. What brings them to the surface now? If I speak to you, then let me speak. If I do not, then let me go. It is a simple - though perhaps not easy - choice that awaits you. I will wait, though I, too, have reservations.

Comments

[elvenking]

[Thranduil doesn't really know Arwen personally. Met her on a few very official visits to places, agreed she's the spitting image of Lúthien, etc. but she's not personally important to him. He's not really thinking of Arwen very much at all. He's thinking more of Legolas, and the news that he had the sea-longing. The thought of being parted for so long, till Thranduil could lead his own people South to the Sea and then West into Aman, is still one he can barely accept. Arwen is no less dear to Elrond, but their parting will last beyond death and the ending of the world.

And they have Elrond's blessing. That is worlds more gracious than Thranduil would ever be about it. He was there for the mess with Beren and Lúthien. But maybe that mess is what Elrond thought of when he gave his consent. How much suffering would have been avoided had Thingol done the same?

But at the expense of a father's joy in his child.]

Will you remain, then? To see your grandchildren?

[In Middle-earth.]

[summerlord]

I cannot say what I will do with any certainty. [After all, none of this has actually happened yet for him.] There is little else I can do but sail. My time in Middle Earth nears an end.

[elvenking]

...The sea-longing has awakened in Legolas. [One father to another. I get it, sort of.] But I do not depart for the havens till my people go with me.

[Like hell is he going to be Amroth, abandoning those he guards for the sake of a personal love.]

[summerlord]

[He is silent for a moment. Oh, Legolas... Would the sundering of families, in one way or another, never end?] May these times of change pass as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

[elvenking]

They never do. [There's a long pause, his gaze going distant as it drifts somewhere vaguely westward.] Is this all that is left for us, Elrond? To surrender to a doom which has long since lost its use, and submit to an authority not earned by the hardworking, but gifted to the favored?

[It has always troubled him that his people who have endured so much will not likely be ruled by anyone who knows them once they pass into the West.]

[summerlord]

[He is silent for a moment, his gaze traveling westward as well. To be perfectly honest, he is more focused on personal things: seeing Celebrian again, losing his daughter to the fate of Man. Thranduil, though, raises a point he's heard before -- and one he finds difficult to address.

What would change when they sailed? It is an unknown that, to be frank, bothers him.] I do not... [He cuts himself off with a shake of his head.] No. I cannot believe that we have reached the end of our usefulness. I know not what awaits us but I do know that we cannot simply set aside what makes us unique. We will find our path.

[elvenking]

[His parents are there. His son will be there soon. So many pieces of his heart are there already, and he is weary of this constant fear he has lived with since the Last Alliance. The Shadow came to his woods, yes, but it never left him. Can it, before it is driven away by the light of the Undying Lands? In order to fulfill his duty to his people, must he deny himself every comfort?

The other option is to surrender an unwilling people either to their own rule or Ingwë's, a king who earned his title by getting there first. Will the Valar then see Thranduil as anything more than yet another wayward child who has at last come to obedience? At least in Middle-earth there is control, and control is the one thing that eases the fear.]

You say it with certainty, yet I am likely to stay where I am. My people are content, and do not much care for paths. And there is much work to be done in the Greenwood, if the Shadow has passed indeed.

[summerlord]

[Elrond nods slowly, letting the words fall into the silence between them. He is thinking, not ignoring, and his gaze is distant.] Will they remain content, as the Age of Man rises? Middle Earth is changing quickly and the time of the elves draws to an end. [Your elves included, good king Thranduil.]

Elves are not quick to adapt. [For the most part, at any rate.] You may find yourself at the head of a restless people as the years pass.

[elvenking]

The rise and fall of outside powers has never concerned them before, nor do they mind falling into legend while they yet dwell in their woods. It will be long ere they are ready to seek the havens. When they are, I will lead them there myself. For I will not choose as Amroth did.

[Amroth was a bro, but Nimrodel sure made him stupid.]

[summerlord]

[He inclines his head, acknowledging the point. He does not seek to argue. Thranduil knows his people better than Elrond does.] You will lead them well, wherever and whenever they go.

[elvenking]

[Thranduil would never hope to argue with Elrond. Arguing with Elrond is hard to accomplish even if you try. He's hard to rile up and way too reasonable. You'd almost think he wasn't Noldorin at all.]

As you have led yours. And whatever roles we may take across the sea, may our paths coincide there.

[summerlord]

[A beat, then:] They will. [It's said with some certainty.]