My son has been abandoned to torture in the sickened forest of La Llorona, defiled by a Feanorian Elf by the name of Celegorm. Legolas did not return and has only recently spoken with me, informing me of his situation. He is weaponless in the wild, alone and much wearied with suffering.
[ And how was your day. ]
You are a hardy man, John Grimm, with the enduring strength like to that of Dúnedain I have encountered in the past. If you can ride, I believe you could very nearly keep pace. I go north to bring back my son. Join me in the bailey in one hour if you would see fit to accompany me.
[ John doesn't know what the hell a Dúnedain is, but hearing that Legolas has been tortured makes something hard settle in his stomach. His mouth is a grim line when he speaks, carrying over into his tone. ]
I'll be there.
[ He's already making a mental list of supplies to bring. But there's just one thing- ]
This other elf, Celegorm. Do we know if he was among those who attacked this place?
[ So she woke up in an infirmary she doesn't remember being hauled into (again, really, Weasley?) and a castle that looks like it was under siege. She wondered, at first, if maybe she ended up in here because of it but her memories hold nothing of that and she doesn't know how much time has passed, so—
Yeah. So she goes for someone she knows must have been in the thick of the fighting if there was fighting at all. ]
... John? [ Totally sounds a little sleep-hoarse there. ] Sorry to bother you, but I've... er, got a question?
[ He's out in the wilds when the call comes, but there's a great deal of guilt simmering under his concern for Legolas about leaving Ginny behind. He answers, of course he does, and Ginny may be able to hear the sound of the wind in the background. ]
Ginny. You're awake. [ And it's hard not to sound relieved. ]
[ John doesn't sleep much. He certainly doesn't sleep well, and he's awake when the call comes through. Flipping open the locket and seeing who the caller is makes him smile. ]
[ so, ever since that flyover with the clearly unseelie army, mako's been going through every fucking thing ever on the network and smoking what seems like enough cigarettes to give half an army lung cancer at the back of the saddle, away from everyone else. he's discovered vampires, werewolves, and aliens, and weird incesty romans and demigods who aren't roman but still talk about and THIER drama and all sorts of stuff. but when a certain post finally shows up, and he sees the content of that post... ]
I think I found the reason.
[[ hope this is okay? ]]
action; just imagining the wind whipping through their hair during this and laughing tbh
[ Ever since spotting the Unseelie army, John's been on edge; his assault rifle doesn't work now that he's outside of the Station, and instead he's been sitting with his warhammer in his lap, keeping all of his senses as open as he can while flying on the back of a giant bison-thing. Mako pouring through the network while chainsmoking is strangely comforting, and so he's shifted on the saddle to sit near him; it makes it easy to turn his head to look at him when the firebender finally surfaces. ]
[ It's been a couple of days since he set out. A couple of days yet before he reaches his destination and finally his temper has cooled somewhat, enough to send this message. ]
I ride north, towards Nimh Gleanne and Maighdeann-mhara, so that you know were you to seek me at the Station that I am no longer there. Though I have asked the shopkeepers to hand you the clothing should you ask for it and give them your name and your title of Elvellon.
[ Yes, it's a thing, he will always do the thing he says he will. Among the many pieces of clothing? Certainly an astronaut bear shirt in a perfectly fitting size. ]
[ Actually, he appears to be on a beach. Bolin's clearly pleased about something, and John pushes his worries out of his mind to give him a slight smile. ]
[ Hi, John. How've you been? He hasn't seen you in ten years from his perspective, but enough smalltalk. It's best to check in before giving his son a heart-attack. Right? Right. ]
[ben saw john's announcement on the network, but he doesn't know lancelot, and doesn't want to talk to someone he doesn't know about training. plus, he doesn't need everyone knowing that he can't do much fighting against the supernatural. he can through a punch, that's about it. ]
Gonna take you up on your offer. You trainin' today?
The birds say Cothromach endures. I am glad you survived.
[ Because that's how Thranduil gets his gossip and shows affection, yo. ANYWAY. ]
I have a finalised contract from the High-King which I have been fine-tuning since Samhain, regarding the overturn of a large plot of the southern Greenwood to me, in return for the protection I can cast there. I have already commanded the native clans I head to move to the mountainhome they may now delve, assisted by Ridire's supporting provisions of food, gold and tools. I intend to have the fortress proper finished within two moons.
For a time, I will remain in Caer Glaem while this is seen to. Will you be returning this way, Aransadorien?
[ Thranduil told Sif to contact John so here's a message from a rather tense but otherwise coping shieldmaiden. Being afraid tends to piss her off more than anything so she is doing all right under the circumstances. ]
John, one of the dogs got inside Caer Glaem and attacked Thranduil. He is all right, minor injuries but they are being tended to. He vanquished the beast by cutting off its head and setting the body aflame, a method that seems to actually kill them. Spread the word if you are able.
[ Once that bit of business is taken care of, she allows herself to soften a little. ]
[ John has a lot of things he's bottled up since that mission in the jungle, since Olduvai. The dogs are pulling them out, every fear and insecurity and turning them back on him. It was bad when Korra found him -- actually, bad is an understatement. He'd been about ready to let three of the dogs try to kill him when Korra found him.
He's only doing better now because he hasn't run into any in that high of a number yet.
There's no reply until much later, when he's slowed his horse to rest again; the beast is not enjoying this anymore than its rider is. There's an awkward grimace stuck on his face as he replies. ]
I saw. I'm on my way to Redgate; I'll let the people there know. If you can spread the word around Caer Glaem, I'd appreciate it.
[ The rest- no. No, he's not all right. ]
I hate this shit, [ he breathes, not really meaning to say it outloud. ] And Thranduil- well, he doesn't want me at Redgate. He's probably right. But I can't just...
[ One hand comes up, rubs at his face. Fuck, fuck, fuck and damn. ]
I don't know. Head's not clear. Don't think it will be until these mutts are dealt with. And I accidentally hung up on him; horse took off and then I had to bury one of the things under a small mountain of boulders.
[ One of the ruddy hawks of the Southern Greenwood alights on a nearby window, branch or stone, screeching and flapping its wings. It has sharp eyes, like all from the Maechenibryth, but waits patiently to have the small scroll attached to its foot unravelled. It reads in looping Drabbish:
Invitation for John Grimm, Aransadorien, Knight of the Golden Cadre and Companion to the winter Yule festivities within I Othrann-in-Heneb, fortress of Thranduil Oropherion, Elvenking of the Maechenibryth.
To celebrate the holiday of the native Aelfen clans, all guests are welcome to remain within the mountainhome until from 25th December until early January for music and merriment. Bed and board provided. Please bring this invitation with you and make your way south along the forest river where marchwardens will find your party and act as escorts. To confirm attendance, please attach an appropriate message to the hawk. Alternatively, contact Thranduil via locket.
The hawk, if needed, will await a snack along with the RSVP before flying off. ]
Your presence is requsted at the Barrel on 3 January, at or around 10 pm. We will be closing early to allow for a question and answer session with Alyosha regarding past and present events and for general information sharing. Treat this invitation with discretion.
Please respond to this message so that we might have a headcount of who to expect.
[ Delivered in a fine letter the morning of Yule, alongside a sprig of holly ]
John,
I hope the weeks since our successful misadventure have been kind to you! I remember well our talk of free time, and have been longing for more of the same. Would you be at all interested in going on a winter roadtrip, heading out on the 4th? Just for a short few days. I’ve invited yourself, Harry, Bolin, and my daughter.
No business. That’s an order. Just goofing off. Camp cooking. Snowball fights.
I figured it’d be a worthy Yule present for all of us.
Wishing you dearly well in all things, Alyosha Hazan
[ okay so what the fairies REALLY bring john is a woven tassel with chinese coin, and a paper slip with well wishes for the season written in characters with brush and ink. another fairy carries a white ring, big and thick enough to fit around john's thumb without any danger of breaking.
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