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[illithidnapped]

[By now he knows that something has gone terribly wrong, despite not knowing precisely what. Emet-Selch hasn't sent another message since cutting himself off. The crystal chatter is sporadic, far from descriptive or helpful.

And because of it, Astarion's door in Lowtown is locked and bolted, working as tentative bastion.]

Safe.

[He can promise that much for himself. For Ellie, now shut in with him. More so than anyone stuck in the Gallows at present.]

Are you with her?

[He doesn’t specify who. Doesn't ask if she’s all right— or if Thranduil himself is— but there's something to be said for the abruptness of that lone question. How it's the first thing that leaps to mind, unguarded.]

[rowancrowned]

Will be, ( he corrects. ) I intend to warn the Duke. Ensure she made it home. She will want to fight.

( he leaves room for astarion to make the same request. )

I will be with the other griffons riders tonight. We may not speak again.

[illithidnapped]

[The noise he makes is thin. Bruised, even.]

Just don’t be a damned fool.

[He doesn’t ask to fight alongside them; Gwenaëlle might think she and Astarion are mirrors, but there are aspects split between the two of them where the reflection doesn't quite catch. Tonight, he’d rather the Gallows burn, if the world bent to his every wish.

His teeth are set at the edge of that warning. And when he ends the call there, it isn’t without a splintering thought spared for them both.]