i have lots of silver, i have lots of gold

[disfavour]

CHARACTERS: Nuada, Nuala, Legolas, Thranduil, Kaye.
LOCATION: Oxygen Gardens.
WARNINGS: TBA.
SUMMARY: One mostly complete set of Elven royalty meets another.
NOTES: ELVES ELVES ELVES.

[ He's been uncommonly quiet for most of the walk through the gardens, though none of the quartet makes a sound in the first place, travelling on light feet and silent footsteps. There's a disturbance between the twins owing not only to the situation in which they last saw one another but their fractured link that no longer binds them mind-to-mind, body-to-body. It's as uncomfortable as it is depressing but there seems nothing to be done.

Nuada has always been a stickler for tradition, for the rules laid down by their people in Ages past (now largely forgotten by the sheep that called themselves members of Balor's Council). He is here to introduce his sister to his new king, to field any questions and ensure her honour is intact by the end of it. Duty and family are important to him, no matter what Nuala believes anymore. Neither is he surprised that she has already started adopting the passengers more akin to the inhabitants of their own world.

If she won't listen to what he has to say about the ship, then perhaps Thranduil will get through to her. ]

Comments

[favouring]

( The belief that Nuala is not listening to her brother regarding the Tranquility is perhaps an excellent demonstration of how poorly and awkwardly they communicate; she would dispute it at once, and her presence here is indicative of not only willingness but a cautious, profoundly private hope that she hesitates to express but cannot, all the same, abandon.

Whether or not she takes his judgement at face value (no) or intends to obediently fit herself to his every opinion (haha, no), she will listen with judgement reserved. Of course, she would listen (just as patiently) even if she'd already decided to ignore him, so perhaps it's more of an example of the way their disconnection from one another alters and confuses the way they've always interacted. She withholds, self-protective, and he is left to guess at behaviour that could mean one thing as easily as another.

As they near the gardens, she brushes Kaye's hand with her own, a silent encouragement to remain near her - she had been talkative enough, if not given to conversation of particular weight, but Nuada joining them had rather effectively quieted her and she has no desire for Kaye to misconstrue her silence. )

[ironsider]

[ Kaye is very aware of her tendency to get herself involved int situations that are larger than her without even meaning to. She kind of feels like she might have done so yet again.

When offering to come with Nuala to the gardens, she hadn't fully aware of what they were coming to do. She was made more aware only after the escort had come to find her and help bring her to the gardens but only so much so. For the most part, Kaye hopes to keep herself out of any trouble this time around. She's done arguing with queens and kings in the past, and even if she was technically a queen consort and slightly royal herself she really just didn't want anything to do with that aspect of it.

To try to make things easier on herself, Kaye had shed her human glamour and was coming as the pixie she was. They were all elves and faeries here, after all. She felt most comfortable around other folk in her own natural skin, so she let her wings loose and followed Nuala and Legolas to the gardens.

She is here as Nuala's friend, though. And that gentle touch from Nuala reminds her as such and Kaye offers a slight smile of encouragement back. She keeps quiet, though, following Nuala's lead and honestly she isn't sure what to say quite yet. She'd prefer to wait and see what the situation fully was first. ]

[tofindthesun]

[kaye's wings are.. not so much a distraction as they are an intrigue. no such things exist in legolas's world, nor indeed the aspects of nuada's and nuala's appearances, and he makes no effort to hide how often he glances back at the the sight the pair of them make.

he leads them as quickly as they will allow, never lingering for too long in any one place. despite the occasional moments where he looks back, he's inordinately tense and alert. never mind that the metal halls bring him discomfort enough, and the addition of two dark lords hardly makes it any better-- he may not be walking around with his bow in his hand, but a hand on the hilt of his dagger probably isn't less of a giveaway.

only once the doors to the garden are shut again and both nuala and kaye are inside does the tension seep out. and he brings a hand to his mouth to send out a trilling whistle, not unlike a bird call, one that his father at least will recognize as announcing his return. nuada may not know what it means, but hopefully he'll come running anyway.]

[elvenking]

[Thranduil waits in his usual spot. Since this is official business, he wears his crown. The raised roots of a tree are as good as a throne, and when the party arrives, he rises to his full height. Sharp eyes flit to light on Kaye. She is a curiosity, taken into account quickly before he looks to Nuala. There is no mistaking his vassal's sister.

Nuala is the daughter of a king and may well be a queen in her own right. As she has not sworn oath to him like her brother, Thranduil will treat her as a peer. He approaches her, poised, and inclines his head to her.]

Gail síla erin lû e-govaned 'wîn, Nuala Baloriel.

[Spoken in just the right dialect, it seems to elude the universal translators, but it ought to be clear the kind of thing he is saying here. An ultra-formal greeting. Doesn't really matter what the exact words are.

They're "A star shines upon the hour of our meeting, Nuala daughter of Balor." Just. So that's clear.

He raises his chin.]

Esteemed lady, I welcome you here.

[disfavour]

[ As the group comes to a halt, he steps before and to the side of his sister, offering her his hand to bring her forward so that they may bow together as one, the gesture an old-worn thing from their own days at court before Balor but never having been tarnished by age. In their own ways, each twin has remained loyal and respectful at the appointed time. (Mostly.) ]

Sliocht sleachta ar shliocht bhur sleachta ar feadh na gcéadta bliain, Ard Rí Thranduil, Col Ceathrar na Daoine Maithe.

[ So many official greetings are bouncing around (readers hover your cursor over the italics) that Nuada makes a mental note to begin learning their version of Elvish-Gaeilge as soon as possible. It would make things run more smoothly, though the tone of the introductions are always the same for these things no matter the court or the king. He turns his head to his sister, remaining where she is so she can pick up the thread of the conversation in her own way. ]

Mo Baintighearna-Deirfiúr Nuala, Órgasnáithe that is Goldenthread, daughter of King Balor and Princess of the Fair Folk, whom I would make known to you and your esteemed house.

[favouring]

( It isn't solely vanity that makes her frustration with being presented so strangely underdressed quite so (privately) acute as it is; even her informal gowns involve yards and yards of fabric, the weight of them pulling her into place, the way they move so smoothly with the elegant deportment forced by heavy hems and tightly wound bodices. They are a reassurance she isn't so aware of feeling necessary until she doesn't have them, unaccountably vulnerable as she steps forward, setting her hand in her brother's as deliberately as she might steel herself to reach into a fire.

She has, perhaps, never felt so nakedly alone in any moment before.

With a clear gaze and great steadiness, built into her over so many centuries, she swallows it far down and focuses on the parts of this that feel familiar and come naturally - she has long been a creature of courts, and even her titling reflects the expert way she has weaved them around herself for so long. This, even now, is not beyond her-- she allows no hesitation and no uncertainty to rise as she meets Thranduil's eyes and returns his nod with a matching one of her own, lowering her gaze only briefly.

Her smile, close-mouthed, gives little of her inner turmoil; she is as accustomed to guarding herself in this polished way as she is unaccustomed to guarding herself any other, and the only shield in her mind - placed there by another - keeps only her brother at distance, no others. )

I am honoured, your majesty, by your hospitality and to know for myself he who my brother calls sovereign lord.

( And if Nuada's loyalty to him makes her more wary than it doesn't, at least at first, she has no intention of being anything less than as courteous and respectful toward him as he deserves, as a monarch and recognized equal. )