tintila: (02)
Mithiel ([personal profile] tintila) wrote 2022-09-29 09:59 am (UTC)

It was hard on her to hold her tongue before this strange elf-lord whose moods tossed like a tempest in his eyes. There were so many questions that wanted to spill forth with each passing thought he shared or revelation he unveiled. Yet it was not the done thing, not for one of her age and relative commonality to spill forth like a river after the first snow melt and drown a lord with all that bubbled up in her thoughts. Several times, she looked as if she was going to speak before she thought better.

'I wish the same for you and yours,' and if he thought her genuine in her thanks and well wishes, she did not care, for she knew her own heart and that she could never wish them any ill. Not even if that ill was earned. 'Nargothrond is said to be a remarkable place.' not unlike her own Menegroth, who though she knew very well she could not love the same way she did the forest or the wild places. 'With such defenders I do not think it will be caught unawares.' In that, she may, perhaps, mostly mean the hounds.

The Valar were more of a mystery to her, both known and unknowable to those who had never crossed the sea. She had never spoken directly to one who might have seen them and it seemed he had, though it was doubtlessly a sore subject and she did not wish to touch it now, or ever. She doubted she would ever know him well enough to dare.

And in many ways Mithiel was like her Queen. Not so much as the fair Luthien, of course, for no Maia or other great blood flowed through her but she had the same soft heart for nature, and the same sort of fellowship that meant most beasts would harken to her call if given a little time and ever she had a talent for learning their tongues.

'You know of this bird? I have never seen them near Doriath, and though I do not wander abroad I am often by the edge of the wood.' even with the hounds and Celegorm somewhat withdrawn and the room clear for her to jump down, she does not yet fully descend from her place of safety, only dropping to the branch below where she stood, drawn by curiosity more than trust.

'I would know its song's meaning if it would not flit away so often,' there she sounded both defensive and sad. 'I have never had a creature flee me thus.' It had not felt foul and so she did not imagine it was a spy of the enemy, yet it acted strangely and she could not account for its presence.

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