{Video; UN: elvenking}

[tauraran]

{He is a king without his elegant trappings - but, really, he doesn't need them. The robe he wears catches the light with the smallest of motions, glittering faintly as if precious jewels are woven in the fabric. His hair is bound into a single thick braid that lays against his back and his circlet is elsewhere - as are his rings.}

How many parents reside in Lunatia? Are you separated from your children if so? {The flickering light on the table before him is all the illumination he requires as he works on a sketch. The drawing depicts trees and a variety of animal life beneath their mighty boughs.}

My fear for my son increases by the day and I have found no relief for it. I hardly realized how helpless I could feel as a father.

{His attention shifts from the sketch of the forest to a second sketch of a face much like his own - yet different enough that it must be his son.}

Comments

[hymnals]

I'd be glad for the company. And any help with the weeds, besides.

[He adds that second remark with a little smile. He is not a man of great stamina, and though he minds the garden competently, the work is never as efficient as he might like.

A pause, and then he adds--]

Can I ask what you mean by saying that he'll 'sail'? What is Valinor?

[He'd noticed the peculiar emphasis.]

[tauraran]

The weeds are not difficult for me to remove.

{More of a nuisance than a competition between arm strength and root strength. While Thranduil does like to leave nature wild, he understands that some plants choke the life around them.}

Valinor is the place where my kind first woke. It is an island and only those that are blessed by the Valar will be able to find it.

[hymnals]

Then I'd be grateful.

[He makes a 'hmm' noise of acknowledgment as Thranduil explains.]

I see--and you'll return there, eventually?

[tauraran]

Inevitably. {They are stars that orbit about their "sun", which is Valinor.} There we will reside until the end of days.