[OPEN]

[smirkwood]

Who| Thranduil & OPEN
What| Of Elvenkings and elevators
Where| Training Center; Central Commons
When| January 3rd
Warnings/Notes| None at the moment.

After the initial outrage had died down some, Thranduil took to investigating the area in a quiet and casual manner. Supposedly, this is where he was to reside. Unfortunately, though he was given directions to his more private living space, he had yet to understand how to use the small room with the many buttons and moving doors... rather than admit to anyone that he was at a loss, The king takes to inspecting the room and its contents.

Though the furnishings seemed comfortable enough in appearance, they were also... very strange. He inspects a curtain with mild interest, running his fingers lightly over the fabric to feel the smoothness of it. It was not of Elven make, but well crafted none the less. The brightness of the color, though, rubbed him the wrong way, so he moves from it and finds a tall backed chair to sit in. He crosses one leg over the other at the knee and hangs his arms casually over the armrests.

Here there was a clear line of sight to the small room with the numbers, so he might be able to discern it's use if he observed the people going in and out of it long enough.

Comments

[smirkwood]

It's obvious this man knows who and what he is, which allows Thranduil a slight relaxation of the shoulders. This is the kind of behavior he had expected from most people, and he was glad to see it again. He inclines his head towards the stranger briefly in acknowledgement of the greeting.

"It seems I was not extended the courtesy of an invitation, but was rather taken by force."

Still, he's not familiar with this particular man. Brief as their lives were, he couldn't be asked to remember all of them. The king looks him over a long moment, taking in his general appearance and height. He probably could stand eye to eye with him if he were standing.

"You appear to me as one of the Dúnedain. What is your name?"

[elfstone]

The Dúnadan in question is visibly taken aback--he straightens and looks at Thranduil in wonder. "Do you know me not?" he asks. It is one thing to keep the truth from Bilbo Baggins, to allow the little hobbit to make up his own mind about Thorongil, but quite another to deliberately mislead an Elven-king. "But in this place, such wonders are commonplace. Several of us have come from Middle-earth, and many of us who recognize old friends go unrecognized ourselves. For me, the year was 3018 of the Third Age when I was taken here, but others remember only earlier years."

He takes a breath. It will not do to leave the question unanswered. "But I am indeed one of the Dúnedain. You knew me as Aragorn, son of Arathorn, chief of that people."

[smirkwood]

Thranduil stands now, looking the Dúnadan over curiously and mildly troubled. He would not have expected him to appear so grown.

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn? I do indeed know that name but we have not yet met," he pauses. "You have your father's bearing."

He's quiet then for a moment, wondering about the date the man had given, but if true, it might explain their differences. This was a strange place indeed. However, if Aragorn was truly from the future as Thranduil knew it, it begged a question to be asked. His features flicker to concern briefly before returning to his more neutral expression.

"What can you tell me of my son? Did he meet with you?"

[elfstone]

Unease comes into Aragorn's face. "It is not well to speak too much of the future, O king," he says. There is peril in it: even the Lady Galadriel, many times wiser than he, took care when she glimpsed things to come. "But this I will tell you. I do indeed know Legolas, and have journeyed with him, as you suspect. He is well -- as well as one can be, on such a perilous journey as ours. Yet he weathered it better than some."

Of that, Aragorn will say no more: his expression becomes closed, and sad.

[smirkwood]

The king wanted to demand he be given more information. It had been difficult to watch his son go after living so long under his protection. To hear that there were dangers on their journey together set a disquiet upon his heart, and Aragorn's expression did nothing to ease it. However, it was understandable that Aragorn to withhold and he was probably right to do so. He's quiet a moment before he speaks again.

"I am glad to know he is well," A pause. "How long has it been since you were taken captive and brought to this place?"

Thranduil's question was carefully phrased. Yes, he was curious to know how long the Dúnadan had been here, but it might also allow him to ascertain how long it might have been since the man last saw his son.