(no subject)

[starrydome]

The Lord of Rivendell enters from his own Great Hall, a circlet of evergreen leaves resting on his brow,the door closing on the haunting sadness of an elven lament.

He is dressed in hues of a winter forest, deep, dark brown trousers and a fir green tunic on top of a bright while shirt.

He is tired, but not saddened to enter this place rather than the passageway that would eventually lead to his own chambers.

So he orders water and wine and looks for a good place to sit.

Comments

[sunbaked_baker]

At some point after Elrond has found a place to sit, a plate bearing two slices of still-warm apple-walnut bread, smelling of autumn, is set near his elbow.

[starrydome]

"Ah," he says, looking up at her with a smile.

"I feel I should trade you for such delicacies, Sunshine."

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine's eyebrows rise slightly, minorly surprised. "You don't trade for something freely given. But if you want, I'll accept your opinions in trade," she replies, lightly wry. "The recipe is still under construction, and I need second opinions."

[starrydome]

"That I can certainly do," he replies, turning to face her fully, as he picks up the plate to breathe in the scent.

"They smell wonderful. And very appropriate for the season."

He looks kind as (almost) always.
And tired.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Autumn is a good time for baking; cooler morning and chilly evenings make warmth all the more comforting," she replies, her smile softening as she takes a seat nearby.

"How are things with you?"

[starrydome]

"That is very true. The closest place to the fire grow steadily more desirable as the days shorten," he agrees.

"And I am well enough. Still sorting through belongings accumulated over the last few thousand years."

[sunbaked_baker]

"I can't imagine even how to approach such a task," she murmurs, with sympathy. Rae doesn't have many belongings that are meant to last.

Her stand-mixer, perhaps.

[starrydome]

"One object at a time," Elrond answers wryly.

"Of course, it is hard not to get distracted. All the things are, after all,not merely things."

They are memories.

[sunbaked_baker]

"They're everything that thing means, and everything it has been through, and who with," she nods, quiet.

[nerves_of_ice]

Movement flickers as Bucky raises a cup of coffee to Elrond in silent greeting from across the room.

The invitation is just as unspoken, but there all the same, if he wants.

[starrydome]

Elrond smiles in reply and makes his way over.

He walks with the measured pace of someone who has spent much time being looked to for reassurance. All movements calm and precise.

A healer.
One of the wise.

The warrior is well-hidden.
But still there.

"Well met," he says in greeting.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Good to see you," he returns. "How's it going?"

[starrydome]

"Well enough," Elrond replies.
"I am sorting through my belongings and it is slower work than I would like, but it cannot be helped. And you?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Trying out a new prototype," he says, and raises his left hand so that it's clearly visible.

"You probably collected a lot of stuff over the years, huh?"

[starrydome]

Elrond leans in, intrigued.

"That is very cleverly made," he says. And then adds, "Yes, I must admit I have. Not by design, mind."

[nerves_of_ice]

"The woman who made it's a genius," he confirms, as he rests it on the table in reach, in case of further curiosity. It doesn't bother him here, or back in Wakanda, both places where there's nothing worse behind the interest.

"Nothing wrong with collecting."

[starrydome]

"May I?" he asks, making sure before touching the fashioned limb.

His touch is light and careful, his hands are warm.

(His ring finger on the right hand still remembers the weight of metal, the weight of power).

"Many of the things have been left in my possession. For safekeeping. They mattered at the time, but who is to say if they still hold significance now, hundred of years later."

[moonandstar]

Another elf, this one dressed in a soldier's garb, sits with his back to the wall and a small jug of mazte resting in front of him. He tips his cup and nods.

"Weather seems a little fairer than last I saw you."

[starrydome]

Elrond nods in greeting. "It is," he replies. "Are you still in the land with the volcano?"

And the disease-ridden ashes.

[moonandstar]

"I've moved towns, but the volcano's not moved," Garyn says. "Same island, but farther away, nearer to the western shore. I've joined the garrison there."

He takes a drink.

"Places change, seasons change, some things don't."

[starrydome]

"That is often the case," Elrond agrees.

"Do you have kin there?"

[moonandstar]

"I've no kin anywhere, as far as I'm aware," Garyn says. "A foundling, I was."

And his adoptive father is now dead.

"The garrison at Fort Darius is mostly Orcish, at any rate. I suspect some of the locals might not like that, but they make fine enough soldiers for the Empire. Most of them do, at any rate."

He lifts his glass again.

"What of you? Are you still at court, or has life taken you elsewhere?"

[starrydome]

Elrond's face stays neutral as Garyn tells of the garrison.

Orchish

Other worlds are different from his own.

"Ah," he merely says. "No, that was a long time ago for me. I have my own land now."

[moonandstar]

The orcs of Garyn's world are not at all far removed from having much the same reputation of those of Elrond's, though rather less deservedly so. He, of course, has no way of knowing this.

"Land's a damn fine thing to have," he says. "Perhaps I might gain a parcel of my own, if I make officer. If nothing else, I seem to have attracted notice."

He takes a drink.

"It's been some time since I've had the opportunity to consider such a thing as having prospects."

[starrydome]

"And that is good?"
Attracting notice?

Could be either.