IC contact for wethelost

[devoutish]

Solomons & Melborn
1108 Sweet Cream Street

[Feel free to use this space for letter/package deliveries as well as visits/knocks on the front door!]

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[devoutish]

[And Alfie's immeasurably glad that Royce is alive. He goes boneless against him, and is quiet as the credits roll.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce is too, resting his head against Alfie's and watching the credits. He's hesitant, and he almost doesn't say it - when he does, it's quiet and almost reluctant, but. Alfie will understand, he thinks. ]

It isn't a real place, but I would like to visit Rivendell.

[devoutish]

To see more of how they do it, you mean?

[His voice is still quiet and a little hoarse.]

[bywolves]

Yeah. To see how they run it. [ There's more to it than that, though. He closes his eyes. ]

[devoutish]

[Again he says:]

Tell me?

[bywolves]

[ Alfie is really good at sensing that there's more. Royce shifts, pulling away just a little. ]

To see how they live. If they're a community or not. Looked like they were.

[devoutish]

Mm--

[There's something Alfie's leaving unspoken too, and Royce can probably sense that.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce pauses, and then: ] What?

[devoutish]

I was only thinking - Watson's got books about him; he's a fiction in some worlds. Stark and Romanov and the other Avengers are the same. Maybe the people in this film, in some world...

[bywolves]

[ That's a fair point. Royce thinks about that. ]

Could be a real place, somewhere. [ He's picking at the bedsheets now, almost agitated. In a tone that's trying really hard to be wry: ] Who knows what their thoughts on half-elves are, though.

[devoutish]

Maybe that'll come up, in the next two films.

[bywolves]

Yeah. [ He's nervous about it. ] Doesn't much matter. It was just an idle thought.

[devoutish]

It matters.

[Royce wouldn't have mentioned it if it didn't.]

I'm thinking about your elves, that's all.

[bywolves]

[ He's actually sort of upsetting himself, thinking about all of this. ]

I don't know how to feel about them.

[devoutish]

What do you mean?

[bywolves]

The elves. I don't know how to feel. I don't know if I want to be part of their culture. Almost feels dishonest, somehow. You'd think that wouldn't be an issue for me.

What did you mean, thinking about my elves?

[devoutish]

[He stares through the skylight, blinking up at the slowly-appearing stars.]

The ones you saw, starving and packed away, crying for water. The women and the kids.

[bywolves]

[ Oh. Royce thinks about them a lot. He stares down at the bed. ]

It's more common than you'd think.

[devoutish]

Mm, and no one cares, do they.

[bywolves]

No. [ He's angry again, and it rises like bile in his throat. His voice is icy. ] They're lazy. They deserve it. World's better off if they're dead.

[devoutish]

Yeah, that's what they always say. I know.

Why don't they all go across the river?

[bywolves]

The elves don't want them either.

[devoutish]

[Alfie goes quiet, eyes on the stars.]

[bywolves]

[ He slides down to lay down on the bed, looking up at the skylight. His expression is sad - the kind of soft, weary sad that comes when you've been sad so much you're almost desensitized to it.

The stars are pretty. The menu music plays quietly in the background, backed by the sound of the waves on the beach. Mostly, he just feels heavy, and it's not a feeling he's accustomed to having, here. ]

[devoutish]

Hey.

[He manages, reaching for Royce's hand.]

I understand. I do.