[ One of two things tends to happen when someone tries to touch Ned in any way: he beats a hasty retreat or he freezes into a statue. In this case, it's the latter, but even at that it's not as severe as it ordinarily is. Chalk it up to the nonthreatening and -- in a sense -- barely-there nature to the contact; chalk it up to how Ned cannot possibly miss the flicker of emotion present here. He doesn't move until the other reaches the part about ninety years. Then he has to blink. Still, he holds his silence, listening as the blond continues.
All this time there has been a certain quality of....Ned isn't certain of the word he wants. Elegance? Not quite it, though also not inaccurate. Formality? No. And yes. Ah...something grand? Is it too much to call it that? Then again, is it too much to believe all of this in the first place?
Note to self: you wake the dead. You wake the dead.
It's this near-third persuasion that cements his decision now to at least give this whole experience the benefit of the doubt. When he himself is a creature of unlikely ability, it seems only fair.
And the company he's kept so far has been nice besides.
Smile still there, it bears a more confounded look than before even as he returns the courtesy, ]
Nice to meet you. I'm Ned.
[ He feels silly and he can't explain why, so he hurries on, ] And thanks. I....I'm not sure why they called me. Honestly.
I'm a pie maker but...if I can ever help you...I mean, I will.
[ He has the sense that Legolas' words come in on some sort of age-old decibel that belongs only in stories, but standing here he is quite real. Distinct features. Ned won't forget or mistake anyone else for him, certainly. And he cannot shake the immediate and somehow striking sense of memory and...dare he say it...love expressed just moments before.
Just who does he remind him of? Why is it a soothing resemblance? Did you lose someone?
A dozen questions for a couple of answers. Like you do.
On a less soft-hearted note though, that too reminds him to ask even as he realizes it might be very rude: ] But...wait -- sorry you said... ninety years?
[ Ned's face says what he bites his tongue over: You look younger than I am though!!!! He'll have to get used to that one. ]
jlskdf <3 <3 baw legolas ;-; your dad love cries deeply
All this time there has been a certain quality of....Ned isn't certain of the word he wants. Elegance? Not quite it, though also not inaccurate. Formality? No. And yes. Ah...something grand? Is it too much to call it that? Then again, is it too much to believe all of this in the first place?
Note to self: you wake the dead. You wake the dead.
It's this near-third persuasion that cements his decision now to at least give this whole experience the benefit of the doubt. When he himself is a creature of unlikely ability, it seems only fair.
And the company he's kept so far has been nice besides.
Smile still there, it bears a more confounded look than before even as he returns the courtesy, ]
Nice to meet you. I'm Ned.
[ He feels silly and he can't explain why, so he hurries on, ] And thanks. I....I'm not sure why they called me. Honestly.
I'm a pie maker but...if I can ever help you...I mean, I will.
[ He has the sense that Legolas' words come in on some sort of age-old decibel that belongs only in stories, but standing here he is quite real. Distinct features. Ned won't forget or mistake anyone else for him, certainly. And he cannot shake the immediate and somehow striking sense of memory and...dare he say it...love expressed just moments before.
Just who does he remind him of? Why is it a soothing resemblance? Did you lose someone?
A dozen questions for a couple of answers. Like you do.
On a less soft-hearted note though, that too reminds him to ask even as he realizes it might be very rude: ] But...wait -- sorry you said... ninety years?
[ Ned's face says what he bites his tongue over: You look younger than I am though!!!! He'll have to get used to that one. ]