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[ The feed opens at an odd angle showing Nuala’s wrist and her other hand skittering away from apparently pinching it. As the communicator is lifted the viewer can see Nuada giving his sister a Look, one that registers between exasperation and savvy scrutiny. No, he isn’t really paying attention to locking this post. Not now, anyway. ]

Shall we continue or would you prefer to pull your hair, too?

I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nuada. Pray continue. ( her hands are neatly and ever so solemnly clasped in her lap, which — obviously — is what she was planning to do with them all along. suggestions to the contrary are ridiculous lies circulated by a ridiculous lie monger. )

[ Obviously. Nuada, being the gracious fellow he is, goes on. ]

It’s very likely best to call all of the Starks. Robb and Jon first.

[ Because, you know. Older brothers, etc. ]

( nuala does not say that she’s terribly glad she’s acquainted with at least one of the people he’s generously offering her patronage to, although she thinks it very hard, because such an enterprise — with humans! her brother! connecting with humans without the use of a weapon! — is to be encouraged. nevertheless. )

How many of them are there, brother?

Six, I believe, including Snow. [ He does a double-take, mildly suspecting … ] You needn’t be so pleased with yourself.

( nuala does many things she doesn’t need to do. pleasantly— ) We will return to that other subject later, you know. Call your Starks.

[ ‘Pleasant’ is a relative term when it comes to Nuada because there’s a note of facetiousness in the otherwise earnest, gracious widening of his eyes. ]

Certainly. Unless, of course, you would like to add to the list on your own count? Any strays of which to speak, sister?

In point of fact—

( no, it’s too soon; she might have some in mind, but not yet. the fact she reaches for his communicator as if to take him up on it is merely a pretense to get a rise, but what a pretense— )

[ The viewers are treated to a swerving topsy-turvy screen as Nuada tosses the communicator from hand-to-hand, giving Nuala little to reach for but his side as he tilts up and away. Hurray for height differences. Is this dissolving from a serious discussion at the speed of light? Perish the thought. Elves are, naturally, always serious. Always. ]

( height difference! it’s two inches, nuada, get over yourself— or over the grass, as the case may be, when his sister opts to stop reaching up over him and instead lowers her shoulder and knocks into him with the express intention of knocking the sassy wind out of him. )

[ Two inches of sheer win, excuse Tiny here. Snorting when shoved, he wraps an arm around her to make sure her balance is just as wonky, and his smirk hints at something genuinely amused. ]

How sweet of you, sister. Perhaps we should all sit around the campfire with our cups, banging away and making friends.

( that was not a hug, nuada!! ...nuala takes a leaf out of his book a moment later, rather than addressing how she was utterly thwarted, to turn huge gold eyes up with the most ingenuous of delighted smiles. )

What a famous idea, Nuada! And to think there are those who have called you unfriendly— for shame.

( can she keep a straight face. )

[ Can anyone keep a straight face here, really. Huffing, he snorts at those big round eyes. ]

Have you been at the wine? I’ll take my cup, if you so much as start wheedling that damnable song, and —

( this time when she brings her hands together, it’s to clap that damnable beat, humming if not quite working her way up to singing— )

[ Excuse Nuada, dear viewers, he has to drop the comm to the grass for a moment; one hand plants over Nuala’s mouth as he hefts her over a shoulder, promises of dunking her in the nearest stream echoing as he hauls her out of sight. ]

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Paragons of grace and dignity.

[ — welp. Stronger than the urge to uphold his dignity (while soaking wet when he replies) is the urge to blame his sister. ]

Nuala started it.

( ACCUSINGLY: ) You said this would be private.

[ Just as stung —!! ]

It would have been if you hadn't distracted me.

[ The question mark means he has no clue how to use this thing and is just ticking boxes so a toddler with an inflatable hammer could haxx this, also because uh, obviously Nuada will overhear just due to proximity. ]

At least the temperature is suited to it.

[ --swimming. ]

( nuala is precisely as drenched as her obnoxious, odious brother-- and she laughs. )

A considerate bit of unkindness, on my brother's part--

[ Grumbling in the background as he wrings out his hair, excuse you, princess. ]

When you put it that way, I don't know how I mistook you for Wraith at all. Not as graceful, for a start. When you're done with your reindeer games, I need my gun back.

[ Oh, it's That Human. ]

I see no need to be graceful around my sister.

[ She'd probably die laughing, for starters, and then outdo him. ]

Your gun will be returned, provided you keep it out of the gardens. The next time you bring it here, I will cleave it in half. [ It would set Thranduil on edge, moreso than he is, and Nuada doesn't want to be responsible for that. ] It is at the forge, when you wish to reclaim it.

[ Well. He's. Appropriately leery of human-hating elder brothers and not sure if he should be remarking on any of this, but Nuala seems congenial enough, at the moment. ]

My condolences. [ is kind of humorous? He's bad at this. ]

She's cute.

[ For an alienish elf thing. He's still not sure what they are.

But that's ominous. At least it's the gun he's threatening to slay and not Sheppard himself? ]

I'm on the Security team now; some of our rounds pass through the gardens. And honestly, I'm not sure where the forge is. Should I know?

[ Faster than light, his demeanor sours with a bite because — ]

Keep your remarks to yourself.

[ Maybe he ought to slice up that firearm now. Twice as reluctant to give it back. ]

Tell me, why should I deign to give you your gun when you attacked me without provocation, my sister and companions claim the sanctuary of the gardens more often than not and you have a complete inability to forward respect or common-sense? If I walk through here next week, will I find my sister gunned down?

[ Legit concerns of an elf prince. ]

( breaking off from wringing out her hair over her shoulder-- )

Nuada?

[ Tension remains, though his tone loses its sharp edge when addressing her over a shoulder. ]

It's nothing.

I don't know about a complete inability...

[ Harsh, Nuada. Harsh. He sits forward slowly, takes on a more serious demeanor. She seems unsettled, and this...well, it's the opposite of the good will he was hoping to engender; maybe patch up the mistakes made in those first few hours on board. ]

Now I'm not saying this to excuse my actions, because what I did was inexcusable, but you can't relate the actions of a disoriented new arrival with what you're describing. You may not see me as much else but a savage, but what you're talking about is straight up murder.

[ He puts some space between himself and the camera. ]

The fact that in two months I haven't come near you should make it clear that I don't mean you or your sister any harm.

[ Prince Harsh Nuada, that can be his middle name. ]

Yes, it is. [ Unrepentant in his indignation, too. ] Two months without so much as apology for your conduct and then plaintively demanding your weapon is a less than encouraging sign.

[ Prince is not his first name! ...unless it is. That would explain a lot. ]

When you shoot someone, in my experience, it's usually best to give them some room to cool off. But you're right. [ He raises both hands in a gesture of placation. ] I'm sorry I shot you. Really I am.

[ ~~It should be, the way he bandies it around.~~ ]

And for your inappropriate comment toward the Princess Nuala?

[ Yes, he is really this stringent about how men treat her. ]

( nuala is absolutely ignoring the cranky one behind her. )

Ah, we each have our burdens to bear.

How goes settling?

[ For a moment he blanches because seriously 'she's cute'? How is that inapprop--oh wait. Wait. Princess. God, he's rubbish at this royalty thing. Really terribly awful. ]

I merely meant to say that your sister's beauty is...such that I am...unworthy! Unworthy to look upon!

The last princess I met didn't think much of me either, if that's much comfort.

[ The flattest look in the history of Calling Bullshit, but he lets it slide. Because really, he has soaking hair and that's unpleasant enough without having to get all up in someone's face about how pretty (and she is) his sister might be. ]

I'm shocked. [ Dry as a desert, but he sends over directions to the forge, along with — ] The last shelf at the back, to the right, wrapped in black cloth.

[Siblings. Galadriel doesn't say anything, she just smiles and clears her throat rather loudly.

You guys, are aware this thing is on, right?

Right?]

[ A pause, then genuinely: ] Thank you.

[ Too much and he'll be pushing his luck. ] If you ever need an extra hand with anything--

[ Just this face, Shep. Just this face. ]

( immediately-- )

It was Nuada's device, my lady.

( two can play the blame-my-sibling game. )

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video » ( failed lock to the starks )

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