I doubt that. [There is no challenge back, her tone is completely flat and she doesn't even look over or try to argue her point further. Mithiel was stubborn in ways that made even the Noldor cross-eyed sometimes. She had so often believed that will could get her through the shadow, that it could break a curse, that she could be enough to defy the Valar and perhaps even change Ilúvatar's mind because it was the right thing.
Not that it mattered.
But what did, as time wore on, dragging down the elves with it?
Some part of her still thinks that they could have changed all of their fates if only they had been more willing to rally against the inevitable.
Perhaps that part of her is sinking now to the bottom of the sea, inch by inch and drowning as it goes.
Mithiel is compliant now only because she is in shock, still, the grief is so near that it overwhelms her every sense. She would not know the difference between being sat on this shore, or in a palace, or tossed carelessly into the void with the other great defier of the Song.]
Mithiel. [She answers, softy.] Once of Doriath, no of nowhere.
no subject
Not that it mattered.
But what did, as time wore on, dragging down the elves with it?
Some part of her still thinks that they could have changed all of their fates if only they had been more willing to rally against the inevitable.
Perhaps that part of her is sinking now to the bottom of the sea, inch by inch and drowning as it goes.
Mithiel is compliant now only because she is in shock, still, the grief is so near that it overwhelms her every sense. She would not know the difference between being sat on this shore, or in a palace, or tossed carelessly into the void with the other great defier of the Song.]
Mithiel. [She answers, softy.] Once of Doriath, no of nowhere.