gondolindrim | (no subject)

*wanders the Halls of Mandos, wondering if anyone newly dead and interesting will arrive today; is, in fact, a little bored*

Fëanor: *blinks when he finds himself walking down a street, not wandering the Halls of Mandos* Oh.

Theoden: *confused when suddenly all the elves in the street walk past him out of the street*
Fëanor: *just standing and staring all around him* Well.
Theoden: sir?
Theoden: *noticing the way different fashion*
Fëanor: *turns and stares at him, eyes a little wild*
Theoden: *flash of terror he can't identify followed by 'omg hot'*
Fëanor: *quiet voice, but commanding* You. Where am I?
Theoden: You're in Gondolin, sir.
Theoden: *steps closer*
Fëanor: *steps back* Where is that?
Theoden: *looks up, thinking* In-between some mountains. I'm not sure beyond that. It's the kingdom of King Turgon
Fëanor: *thinks this over* Turgon. Are we in Middle-Earth then?
Theoden: yes, sir. I can take you to where they'll answer your questions
Fëanor: Is my brother here?
Theoden: your brother, sir?
Fëanor: Fingolfin. Your king's father. *still glancing around; looking at all the elves who are staring at him*
Theoden: ...who are you? *worried feeling starting*
Fëanor: *arches an eyebrow, but supposes he's been dead for a while and this.... not an elf, whatever he is, might not know him* I'm Fëanor.
Theoden: ...ah. *tucks hair over his ear nervously* I think I'd better take you straight to the king, sir
Fëanor: *nods, agreeing* I think perhaps you'd better. *not sure why he's here; he's supposed to be in the Halls of Mandos, forever*
Theoden: please follow me. *turns to lead Feanor to the tower*
Fëanor: *follows him, not saying anything; trying to think on why he's there*
Theoden: *keeps sneaking glances back, half curiosity, half checking out*
Fëanor: *doesn't really notice; although it does feel like everyone is staring at him as they walk along*
Theoden: so, uh, where were you before you ended up here? Fighting some battle?
Fëanor: *shakes his head* No, no. I've been dead for quite some time.
Theoden: oh, we had another come back from the dead. I guess that's just some sort of Feanorian trick
Fëanor: *stops* What?
Theoden: oh yeah. *worried he's irritated the giant killer elf and grips the end of his braid nervously* Celegorm. He showed up some weeks ago with a big dog
Fëanor: My son was dead? But he's here? *this is all very confusing*
Theoden: yes, sir
Fëanor: Are my other sons dead? Or. Were they? Are they here?
Theoden: you and he are the only Feanorians we have in the city, sir. That I know of
Fëanor: *head rather hurts* I'd like to see my son.
Theoden: we should do the king first, sir
Fëanor: Perhaps my son could join us. *sounds rather bossy*
Theoden: I really think the king would like us to see you first. *good soldier*
Fëanor: Fine. *willing to go along with this for now*
Theoden: *wondering if he's heading to a quick death and finally gets them to the tower without his usual nervous chatter*
Secretary: *quickly shows them in to see Turgon*
Turgon: ...uncle. Hello. *very non-plussed*
Fëanor: Turukano. *glancing around the room* You've a nice.... tower here.
Turgon: thank you. It's the gem of my city.
Theoden: *sort of faded into the back of the office, not sure what to do with himself until dismissed*
Turgon: so you've arrived in Gondolin.
Fëanor: I.... yes. Not on purpose, you see.
Turgon: no one does. Please, take a seat? I'll answer your questions
Fëanor: *sits, looking a bit uncomfortable* Well. How did I get here? I've been dead for quite a while.
Turgon: There's something wrong. You're not the only person who's arrived here who should never have been. I've got arrivals that aren't going to be born for thousands of years.
Fëanor: *stares at him* What could be wrong?
Turgon: something is wrong with time and space and we haven't discovered what it is yet. *wishes he wasn't admitting this to his uncle*
Fëanor: *nods* Well. It's an explanation, I suppose. *wishes he knew more though*
Turgon: I will of course give you a home suitable of your status, uncle. If you choose to remain here
Fëanor: Could I go somewhere else? *curious*
Turgon: I wouldn't dream of stopping you from any of your goals. *mental note to himself: because that usually ends terribly*
Fëanor: *shifts uncomfortably* Er. Yes.
Turgon: *also sort of hoping not to have Feanor in his city because FEANOR* We have maps. You could go anywhere you pleased, and with forewarning to the camps of the enemy
Fëanor: *silent while he considers this*
Theoden: *gone extremely still and silent when he noticed Dagnir lounging in Turgon's window*
Dagnir: *sleepy horrible kitty smirk at Theo*
Theoden: o.o *shoo shoo hand gestures*
Dagnir: mow! *hops down and heads to tell Lio the news*
Fëanor: I think I would prefer to stay here. At least for now.
Turgon: *nods* I'll have a forge prepared for you as well
Fëanor: If it's possible to have a quiet house with a workshop and forge of my own, I would prefer that.
Turgon: that's perfectly reasonable, uncle
Turgon: I can have that ready soon
Fëanor: Thank you. I... hope not to be too much trouble to you. *feels like he should apologize for that whole burning the ships thing, but that might be awkward*
Turgon: *little nod, trying not to mention his dead wife*
Fëanor: Is... your father here?
Turgon: No.
Fëanor: Oh. *maybe disappointed? Maybe not. Perhaps he DOES need to make apologies*
Turgon: any further questions? You may stay at my palace until your home is ready
Fëanor: Er. Am I free to come and go as I please?
Turgon: yes, uncle
Fëanor: Well. I thank you for that courtesy. *pauses; why is apologizing so hard* Er. I ... well. Am sorry.
Turgon: *quietly* good
Fëanor: *feels rather .... embarrassed and awful. Is this shame? Ugh, hates it! But* Truly.
Turgon: *looks over, trying to remember who this guard is* Theodred? Could you escort my uncle wherever he'd like to go?
Theoden: I'm Theoden, your highness. *red* And of course, sir. *salute*
Fëanor: Perhaps to a room? I'd like to rest.
Theoden: I'll take you to a room, sir.
Theoden: *a little pinker for picturing that, but assumes both will just write it off to weird human behaviour*
Fëanor: *doesn't even notice; stands up* Thank you, Turukano.
Turgon: *nods* I hope your second chance goes better than your first
Fëanor: *winces, but supposes he deserved that; although, was it really THAT bad? Okay, curses and death, but... * Hopefully.
Turgon: ...you're an amazing man, uncle. I meant that sincerely. You can do great things and I want to see them
Fëanor: *nods* Thank you again.
Turgon: *nods* Take care.
Theoden: *decides to show Feanor something neat and searches out the elevator*
Fëanor: What is this?
Theoden: it's one of the new things that are in the city. It won't be so bad here, sir. *gives him a quick smile and steps inside* come in, I'll show you how it works. It's a lift
Fëanor: A lift? Lift what? *skeptical, but follows Theo*
Theoden: *hits a button and the doors close*
Fëanor: *startled*
Theoden: it goes up and down with electrics. *watches the outside of the tower go by through the lift window as it goes to the bottom floor*
Fëanor: Oh my. *stares*
Theoden: there's lots of things like this here. You were an inventor, I think you'll like it *sweet smile at Feanor*
Fëanor: Amazing!
Theoden: and I'll show you some other things before I leave you...
Fëanor: Like?
Theoden: well, I guess since you're in a room at the palace there won't be a stove for me to show you *frowns* And they're still working on the phones.
Fëanor: Phones?
Theoden: they're somehow going to send peoples voices over big distances so if... say, I was on one side of the city, I could talk to someone on the other side without even shouting
Fëanor: *this is all rather insane* Really?
Theoden: Yes! I like finding out what's being worked on, it's exciting. I can show you the house of artificers, if you'd like?
Fëanor: I ... I think I would like that. But perhaps some other time.
Theoden: well, I'll be happy to show you anything you'd like when you're feeling more up to it, sir
Fëanor: I think I would just like to see my rooms for now. Thank you... was it Theoden?
Theoden: *nods and holds out his hand* Theoden, sir.
Fëanor: Thank you, Theoden. *shakes his hand*
Theoden: *beaming smile* Let's get you to the palace. *shows him the way and hands him off to someone who can get Feanor to a room*
Fëanor: Thank you again. *makes a note to ask for him in the future*
Theoden: *waves and goes back on duty*

I'm not sure about this apologetic thing, although it does seem like the thing to do. Just not sure I'm totally sorry. Yet. Maybe.

"Phones" sound interesting though.

In any case, might be a good idea to lie low for a bit.