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[illithidnapped]

Shame. You'd look good all roughed up. [Messy can be fun, Thranduil. Embrace it every now and then from those high towers.

But his tone twists after that teasing commentary fades. Sinks lower. Lighter.]

I—

[A small breath, sticking to the back of his teeth.]

Tempting as the offer remains, I'm afraid I'm indisposed today. Personal business.

[rowancrowned]

Wait for the next engagement with Corypheus' forces.

( and knocking on wood with regard to that. )

Of course. ( smoothly, no curious prying at all. ) Blessed Feastday.

[illithidnapped]

Mmhm.

[He concedes, feather soft and just as content to let it lie. If he's a little grateful for it, that lack of prodding, it only manifests in the fact that he lingers long enough to add, not unkindly:]

Blessed whatever, darling.