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12-04-2016, 10:44 AM
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Thranduil
It wasn’t exactly a happy greeting, but then, watching the colt, he wouldn’t expect anything else. One hark rests backwards as he lets himself play through the threads of gold he had thrown out. Pity he did not yet grasp what affect he had over the young son. The affirmed reply was treated without much regard, perhaps one day the gold would realize its worth, but there was just so many other things to play with here. How could he possibly concentrate one just one. Yet he does catch the boy’s next reply. Even in the gold felt some chill in his breast rise at such a bold statement of enjoyment of torture. He dares not give it away. Only letting a huff of humor and the same trained smile leak through. Yet inside his conviction that something darker lay in that youth’s head, only grew. There was potential there, so much. But even the gold could recognize when he was playing with some dark force. Like the first discovery of nuclear fusion, his senses rose in the sense of danger pricking every nerve. He was not fearful of it, in fact he quite looked forward to play with it, but oh the damage it could do. If only he knew just was buttons to push…. Bullseye. The colt’s eyes look away and the companion pauses. It’s hard not to let a little devilish curl of his lips rise as he sees the colt so affected by even the barest suggestion of his sister. Yet he doesn’t push anymore as it takes a moment for the youth to gather. He lets the thought sit in his head, echo, and rot. When he speaks the gold blinks away, as if he never intended the results at all, and the voice of darker black are unusual. Ever a manipulator, a player, and ever entertained by his own games. The crowned head tilts as he listens to the other and feels the more heated gaze return to him. An idea threads through his mind once more and the gold hums in acceptance of the answer, but nothing more. Instead his gaze leaves the youth, though one hark ever trails him, and he moves forward with a seeming indifference, as if the meeting were casual, when all who look upon could see the dark forces swirling between. He walks slowly, without hesitation, as he comes around the group. Haldir, reluctant to get closer, does not follow. He hangs back, knowing better than to reveal his fearful truths, but unable to follow his bonded closer. A dull wallop sounds of something hard hitting flesh and it takes every trained nerve not to look towards the youth. Every desire to restrain from seeing what was unfolding there….A questions leaps out, and the name ringing with it settles ever so beautifully on the gold’s ears. Another huff of humor rolls out, and the smile regrows. “Call it…a check in on an investment…” The grinning gold turned his head back, as his gold eye spark. “You’re not as easy to forget as you might think.” He lets a brow raise, wondering what affect such thoughts would spurn upon the youth. Wondering how the ashen heart would react to such suggestions. His head turns back away, looking instead to gaze to a small vine wrapping up the wall of hedges on the other side. Though he keeps one ear on the colt, and an eye through Haldir. “It appears your twin has seen the terrible error of her ways.” He looks closer as the vine as if studying it. “Your whole family in fact is apparently quite grieved. Your father so desperate he’s even called on me...to help.” He lets it all fall out to the colt as some full factoid, as if there wasn’t much in it. As if the gold could keep his distance. Though he lets his tone underline the last phrase. That part didn’t need exaggeration. If Tembovu was reaching out to the gold…it was doubtful the poor elephant even slept at night. “I’m no expert on the matter, but I rather think they miss you.” At last his gaze turns sharply back, its earth eyes calm, but hidden deep, a hunger to see the effect of those words. "talk talk talk" OOC:: |
@Kianzo
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Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
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Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.
