loveathousandyearsgone | OPEN RP POST

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Pretty straight forward. You have an idea you want to play out with Elrond, throw up a starter or plotting comment and we'll go from there.

Haven't threaded with me before but want to try something different than how you found this journal? That's fine too! I'm always open to new RP partners.

If you have questions, feel free to shoot me a PM if you're more comfortable that way.

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He's been learning to use Vilya, though so very, painfully carefully, to avoid anyone realizing what it was. But he'd do anything to help this friend. Elrond manages a smile, strangely endeared to that spirit.

"Oh, my friend. You are far from weak. I have kept you from sight, and have been the only one to tend you past the initial need." Only in those very first few hours had he needed the help of other healers, lending him their strength and keeping him from faltering.

"With luck," he admits, carefully modulating his voice to chase away what shadows he can. He ignores the tears and simply continues to gently stroke cool fingers over forehead and hair. "The dragon believed you dead and I was able to pull you to safety while my fellows distracted it."

As much as he likes jewels - particularly those that are pure and bright - he will not ever take or speak of such a treasure to anyone. Elrond is a good Master to Vilya and he comes to healing naturally. Thranduil does not and he would know that such a ring would only wane in power in his company. It deserves to flourish; like his friend.

"...thank you." the words are quiet and not oft heard from his proud lips, "You risked yourself...your company." his brow furrows and he immediately regrets it, wincing, "Will you help me rise?"

He needs to feel upright again - if only to reassure himself that his body can hold him.

He knows. And he trusts Thranduil, despite their differences. What he feels from Vilya, he trusts enough to use to heal his friend as much as he can. And it's done wonders, though he feels there is still more he can do.

Elrond's smile warms at the rare, honest gratitude. "I risk much for my friends," he answers, just as softly. "I would do it again, and again, should the need arise."

In reward of being asked, rather than Thranduil simply struggling to do it himself, he moves to help support the other elf in sitting upright. "Slowly, be mindful of your side and put no pressure on your bandaged arm." Lean on me, he doesn't say.

"Too much some would say." but how can he say that when he is alive thanks to Elrond's bravery? Thranduil is aware that life is never clearly black or white - unless one is dealing with the Enemy - but he generally supports self-preservation. He would not have blamed Elrond for leaving him on the battlefield, therefore, but, by the same token, he cannot condemn him for being heroic either.

His good arm rises and he brushes his fingers over Elrond's hair and cheek.

"You are not burned." he swallows his fear, trusting he is in good hands. Gathering all of his will - his frustration especially - he grabs onto Elrond's arm and slowly lifts himself up. The pull and the strain on skin that has become tight and blistered - and in some areas where there is no skin at all - reminds him of how he had felt that day.

"Please put out the fire!" His voice rings in his head, but he is reassured: the fire is out. With Elrond's help, he moves to the edge of the bed and it feels like he has traveled miles.

Edited Date: 2017-10-10 03:16 am (UTC)