[There is something strange, almost sharp, about his demeanour. A younger, happier version of herself would have been put off by it, might even have ran (though to where, here?) but she just watches him, tries to judge the great nothing that is his expression.
He hasn’t tried to stab her, at least, which is more than she can say for the rest of the not-elves she has experienced in the last few years.
Her answer about her languages appears to be a “no”, but “follow me” seems evident from his gestures and she has naught better to do in a strange land that feels wrong, so though she wonders now if he is not Gorthaur or one of his ilk… rumour did have it that the host of the Valar did not dispense with all of Morgoth’s servants. The gold nails and bright hair make her wonder. But he does not feel foul, and he is not acting especially fair in order to win her trust.
And Gorthaur did know all of their tongues…
She hums softly to herself to fill the quiet as they walk, effortlessly musical in the way that all elves were.]
I wish I knew where we were, I did not know places with so much sand existed. Perhaps we are in the south? [She is talking to herself since he does not understand her, but she suspects he will take this Better than if she broke out into song.] If so, the south has very strange maiar. [As if they aren’t all strange. Her own queen had been strange and she was the most like the firstborn that Mithiel had ever heard of a Maia being.]
[Why is she talking? It is mostly to herself, he assumes, but it is strange she is talking at all. Can she not keep her thoughts in her mind...? Weird. His head turns back to look at her just to make sure it is only herself she is talking to and it is. He shakes his head and continues on.
Once they are out of the desert and into the kingdom, to the palace, servants immediately rush to Set. To take his cloak and hand him the nemes, the symbol of his leadership, which is draped over his shoulder. His golden accessories that adorn his chest are now evident. He tells the servants to bring water for Mithiel and motions once more for Mithiel to follow him.
Thoth is waiting for him in his room. The god of the moon, of wisdom, and writing. He is slight but he shines like the moon would with his white hair and light red eyes. He looks gentle...until he does not. Quickly his face turns to anger. Thoth is also the god of reckoning and it shows when he starts to shout at Set for disappearing again. Mithiel may not be able to understand what Thoth is saying but it must be obvious that he is insulting Set. He needs to stop leaving by himself, he needs to be less careless, and why is he bringing strange people into the palace? Set explains his side, how it seemed like a bad idea to let her have her lay of the land if she was an enemy. There are more hushed arguments until Thoth shakes his head, smiling to Mithiel. Better for his attention to go to her than a king who was never meant to be a king anyway.
Thoth moves to Mithiel and smiles, pointing to his head with his fingers and then to her. Asking if he may touch her forehead. If she bends down for him, because Thoth is small, he puts the tips to his fingers to her, letting his magic envelop her. He focuses, speaking, trying to see when he will understand her.]
Do you understand? Do you now?
[Set rolls his eyes.] Will you keep asking her that?
[Her words quiet down as they leave the blinding sands and pass into a civilisation unlike any she has seen. He is clearly a prince of some kind, maybe a king? Is that why he had been looking at her so strangely? Humans did stoop and bow quite a lot around royalty – or so she had been told – perhaps his people were like that and the fact she had remained upright disturbed him.
More than ever she wished she could understand their language. She could be walking into danger and not know it. Not that she was much safer out amongst sand, nary a tree to be seen. The one that her strange companion brings her too looks like he could be one of her own people.
Until he doesn’t. Until his voice turns to such a pitch that while the words escape her, she cannot help but shrink behind her golden companion, her breath quickening even though she does not try to run or even speak. Her heart is still racing when this new stranger turns his attention to her and she cannot hide anymore.
She bends when he seems to ask it of her, wondering if he knows how to share minds and if he thinks that will help, but she feels magic rush over her, feels it along her faintly shimmering skin and then she can not just hear him but understand. Huh!]
He’s afraid I will talk too much. Little does he know I could have been singing instead. [Yes, yes she does understand.]
I am Mithiel, of Doriath. [a beat passes, she frowns and sadness fills her expression.] Formally of Doriath, currently of nowhere.
Are you both Maiar? [They feel different to her queen but also from each other, which she barely keeps herself from saying as it seems rude and she would prefer to not have their anger aimed at her.]
[Set is just relieved they can figure this whole thing out that the singing comment goes right over his head.]
I am Set, King of Egypt and god of the desert and storms. [His voice is commanding and firm, much like a king's should be. He has become good at this through practice.
He motions to Thoth, who is smiling as he bows his head in greeting. He has gone back to being gentle and kind. They have company who can understand him after all.] This is my advisor, Thoth, god of the moon and wisdom.
I have never heard of a Maiar. What is that?
[Thoth looks interested. After all, he is the god of wisdom and everything about her is not human. Perhaps not even from this world. For Set, though, many things go over his head. Including these things.]
[So he was a king. At least that much hadn’t needed language to convey, though the word god throws her off slightly. It translates in her mind somehow as both Ainur and Illuvitar, the latter of which she feels certain they are not for he is only one and his domain is not limited.
Perhaps they are Valar that did not make themselves manifest before? She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she tries to work out a theological problem that an elf such as herself is absolutely not prepared for.]
They are Ainur. A lesser form, they tend to the world and its people or focus on their works and crafts. But perhaps you are Valar instead? They are more powerful Ainur. For example there is Varda, she who cast the stars in the sky so that we might live in darkness. I do not know this word “god”, my people have never had need of such a term. We know our creator by name, though he does not seem to ever care for us. [If a little bit of bitterness and hurt creeps into her tone, she quickly tries to mask it as she glances between them and keeps going.]
Was all that sand a “desert”? I have never seen such expanses of it before. I have never even seen a beach, only patches in places along the river.
[Thoth seems fascinated by this, as a god of wisdom would be. Though it is obvious this goes over Set's head.]
Ah, in our world it was Ra who did that. [Thoth says, he motions to Set.] His great grandfather. It would seem that we may be differing from our creations...[It wasn't even the truth that Ra had created everything, which Set knows, but also knows it cannot be told differently or else the scales would tip to chaos' favor.
Thoth is deep in thought and so Set answers.] We are surrounded by the desert. But our kingdom by the great Nile is fertile. The deserts are not. I've heard of lands that do not have deserts but I don't know anything about them. [He is the god of the desert after all.]
Ra. [She repeats quietly, letting the word roll off of her tongue. Perhaps this Ra was another name for Eru Illúvatar, but it had a different soft of weight in her mind and he was the grandfather of no one. He was creator only. It was he who had made the world and he who had laid the first children out in the far east. It was he who made Morgoth and allowed all of his cruelties, for only he was enough to truly stop him. What was it that the king had said? All Valar and Maiar existed because of Illuvitar. All were a part of him, part of his song.
Even the discordant note that would not stop.] Our creator is called Eru Illúvatar. We are called his children but I suspect you mean this in a more literal way than we do? It was he who played the first note in the song and he that left the first elves sleeping in the east to awaken, and he who allowed Dwarves to have true life when Aulë, the great smith, created them in secret and was found out. It was he who made men and let them follow after us.
[Though she is clearly not human, that is the first time she has said so explicitly..] He has never spoken to us directly, only through the Valar Manwë who alone has his ear. And Manwë does not often care for the elves who did not forsake the world and go east. [Hidden under her gentle, musical voice is anger about that. Perhaps her grandparents did “fail” in making the journey, but she could not see what was so wrong or worthy of scorn and neglect about loving the world that the creator of every single one of them and the Ainur too had made with the intention of them living in. She could not understand how Morgoth and his evils were something that until the last, Manwë had seemed to think they deserved. That he occasionally sent a giant eagle to save the foolish Noldor didn’t change the fact that he ignored the rest of them. He ignored her entire people, their lives, their home. He had allowed their home to be shattered and cast into the sea when Melkor was his brother…
Mithiel had never known anger until these last decades and now she boiled beneath the surface, like water cast upon the heaping slag piles that made the Thangorodrim.]
The Nile… is that a river? [She asks, her eyes softening again and curiosity returning now that she has a distraction, however brief, from her thoughts on the Valar and their poor sense of justice.] Doriath is a forest… was a forest… It was broken by the host of the Valar and now dwells increasingly beneath the sea. It was full of trees and caves, flowers and mushrooms and crops. I have spent all the years of my life within it’s girdle or not far out of it until the water came. I was born by the Sirion river that cuts through it’s western side. Beyond the borders of Doriath were more forests and grasslands, then the mountains beyond which I could see little. But I have never heard of such a sea of sand before. it was… beautiful in a way. [And terrifying, too.]
[Set is listening, though it still goes over his head. Intelligence was never his strong point. All of this sounds so confusing and full of words he cannot understand. Perhaps it is rude but he makes the decision not to try to understand. That wasn't his job, after all. His job was Egypt, of keeping the balance, and doing right by Osiris's wishes. There was too much to keep track of even without her lore. His own kingdom took so much work, so much thinking...no, he couldn't keep up with hers either.
Though he looks to Thoth, who is still listening. Intently. Set wonders if that may be a problem, fills his head with ideas. Problematic, really. How annoying.]
Yes, we have children as humans do. [Thoth answers and looks to Set, smiling.] Some of us. [Set crosses his arms and looks off to the side.] Your story seems very intriguing. I would love to be able to hear all of it and write it down. If you would be interested in telling it.
[Set sighs.]
If you are not human, not a god like us, nor any of the things you mention; what are you? You don't know about my kingdom, about deserts, or the Nile. Why were you in my desert?
[Thoth glares, obviously not happy with Set's lack of manners towards their guest.] Set.
[If Mithiel notices Sets lack of interest, she does not bother to point it out. He isn’t the first to find her boring and she’s sure he will not be the last. Thoth seems attentive enough to make up for Set, in any case. Her smile is soft and radiant when he mentions writing down her stories.] You may write them down if you wish. I have few stories about me that are of note but many of my people, and most of the history thereof. [She suspects Set will grow irritated with them if they did it right now, though she had no shortage of time.]
An elf. We are also called the Eldar. My own people who took the journey but did not finish it are called the Sindar, to the east from whence we first woke there are still some of our Kin who loved the land too much to come west at all, we call them the Avari. There are also our cousins the Telari who once walked with us and did cross the sea, as well as the Noldor many of whom are more troublesome than a legion of Orcs and the Vanyar, of whom we have seen little until the host came. Though Galadriel is partly one and she dwelt with us in Doriath for a time. I did not meet her. [She was nowhere near important enough to meet a guest of the King and Queen. She looks at Set, hoping he “enjoyed” her excessively long answer. She could not punish a King for his tone but she could perhaps bore him to death with a smile on her lips.]
I do not know why I am in your Kingdom, your Majesty. One of our marchwardens had set me on a horse and asked it to take me to the rest of our surviving people. Then everything turned to mist, then sand, and behold I had found myself in this strange place. It is not a craft I know anything of. I am but a forester. I have never heard of anyone passing through lands like this.
[Set used to be much more greatly impatient, which was shocking to believe. By now, he would have lost his temper if they were in the past. Now, he could at least talk without snapping. It was not impressive to anybody that did not know him in the past. To those that didn't even know him, his infamous anger was talked about. Gossiped of even if it was a slight to do so to a god.
Set had truly made a name for himself. Whether that was good or bad.
Though her long answer just brings him another sigh. He does not lash out. But he decides to remember this one loves a long answer. Set looks to Thoth if he has any idea and Thoth is in thought.]
It sounds as if you were brought here for some reason. By something. Not that I am sure what that could be. Your people are not here. We've certainly never known of elves. The word does not exist among us.
[She had known many that seem like him, elves were not beings of infinite patience like many of the second born seemed to think. Still, it does not truly bother her and it seems like Set leaves much of his pondering to Thoth. She wonders if he is his council then, or if this is the usual way of things.
Thingol had only listened to his wife, and even then not when it was truly important. He had been as stubborn as he had been wise and it had been the ruin of Doriath. Perhaps this was better?]
You have no word for elves, and we have no word for desert. We are both out of our element, though perhaps me more than the two of you. [Given that she is in a foreign land with no way to back up her claims or get home. She is as at their mercy as she would have been at Morgoths had she awoken in Angband in the time before he was dragged back across the sea.]
I have no ill intent for you or your people. I have never harmed anyone, even in self defence. I do not know why I was drawn here but perhaps I can be a help in some way. I am nearing a thousand years of age, I know much of my peoples craft as long as you do not make me a smith. I am very good with animals and plants.
[Set has let Thoth do most of the talking. It was usually best this way in these matters. With a crowd, it was good for Set to speak. To show his strength. But right now, it seemed better for Thoth to talk to this Mithiel.
Thoth smiles widely.]
We have not been to war in a long while. Which is funny considering this king of ours is the god of violence as well. [Thoth puts a hand over his mouth, as if he said this by accident. Set glares because he knows it was not at all. Times like this, Thoth wants to get to him. His own way of lashing out.
Set puts a hand on his sword that lays at his hip.]
I protect these lands and war has not been necessary. Any enemy knows it is a terrible idea to cross my path. [He takes a step forward, glaring at her.] You may stay in my kingdom but know that you should not take me lightly. My brother made that mistake and now he is dead. [It was the story he had to tell. That he had killed his brother for the throne.
Thoth has simply looked on this scene and smiles to Mithiel.] Lord Set does not trifle in regards to the kingdom. But there will be no harm that will come to you. Of that, I am sure. [Set glances to him, wondering what that means.]
You are safer here. To go out to the desert again is asking for death. We can find you your way home and we can learn of your people, your history.
[She has known of much violence both in her first years and her last. Wolves. Monsters. Raging dwarves and terrible men. To say nothing of the orcs and twisted creatures of Angband and that Morgoth and Sauron’s shadow loomed large over her kingdom for the centuries before its fall. She has known of it, but never had to cause it herself. She is soft and tired and a bit of that weariness creeps into her expression when she hears Thoth accidentally, or perhaps “accidentally” mentions Set is also the god of Violence. Tulkos might have been better suited to being here than she, and yet…]
I am no lover of war. I was born before the sun where everything was dangerous, and I have spent centuries in the shadow of war, of darkness and death. I do not even carry my sword. [There is her very finely crafted bow that is slung over her shoulder and the corresponding quiver, as well as a few small knifes but she carried them for hunting or on the off chance she was surrounded by orcs. Mithiel had no intention of ever starting a fight if she could avoid it. It was not in her nature.]
…Your brother? [It feels like she shouldn’t ask but it slips out before she can press her lips closed.]
If you will have me, I am grateful. I am happy to tell you as much as I can. It has been long since I have had time to talk or do anything other than try to save my people and their works.
[Funny, Set thinks, how her and Thoth seem to have a lot in common. It seems Thoth is thinking similarly and when Set catches his eye, the gentle smile on the god of wisdom turns to a scowl at Set.
Exhausting, Set thinks.
Thoth speaks up, smiling to Mithiel. As if this isn't a sad story of brothers turning against one another. Like this is a bed time story.] It was Lord Osiris, the elder brother who was to be on the throne. Until Lord Set changed that.
[Sometimes Set thinks Thoth just wants to hurt someone because he cannot hurt himself. But Set does not feel like he used to. It still hurts but the pain has become duller. It is always on him after all. But he really just pities Thoth and maybe this Mithiel would be good for him.]
Enough of that. [Set orders and puts on the act he is used to now. It suits him well.] There is no need to talk of that foolish man. He is in the underworld now, a king of the dead. This is my kingdom and if you do not behave then you can meet him. You are welcome here and you can bother Thoth with all of your talk.
[This is all Khazdul to Mithiel. She grows in turns confused and pale as Thoth speaks. Violence amongst elves was not unknown, but it was rare–especially within a family. It doesn’t fall from her lips, but she does silently mouth something that looks rather like you killed your brother????
More than that, he killed his brother and everyone was just fine with that? Could admit that with such ease? These people were more foreign to her than the nameless things beneath the earth.
Sure, she had heard that Fëanor had pulled his sword on Fingolfin when they were still across the sea but even he, so petty and so low for so high born of an elf did not go through with it.
Though he had caused the Kinslaying. She frowns. Could Valar or Maiar even truly die? What were these “gods”?
Leaning back, she takes the both of them in. She doesn’t know either well enough to be sure of how any of this truly affects the both of them. Perhaps it is better not to ask. At least not until they know her better and she can trust their reactions will be no worse than merely angry.]
What is an underworld? Do you also have great caverns carved out in the earth where evil things dwell? [No religion and no death meant little concept of an afterlife. All who died in middle-earth stopped by Mandos halls and she didn’t even think that an “underworld” could be related to that.]
I do not mean to bother anyone. But I will remember to mind my tongue, your majesty. [Illuvatar knows Kings have not saved her much in the past. Not even great and mighty Kings.]
[It is all Set says. He is always quiet and now he will only talk when it is necessary. A tough thing for a king. Set is used to being reacting to this news similarly. Most people cannot understand how he could do such a thing. Set simply tried to ignore it as best as he could.
Thoth keeps the smile on his face. As always.]
The underworld is where one goes when they die. It is maintained by Lord Osiris, Lord Set's elder brother, now and the god of chaos, Apophis. We do have caverns but evil things do not lurk there.
[She wonders if this is truly Set’s nature. A kinslayer who is unaffected by all, both what he did and how others react to it. Doubt lingers in her mind, but again, she does not know him and she has never known a kinslayer. For all their nearness of location, the sons of Fëanor had never crossed her path and if they had they would not have given her the time of day, much less any insight into how they felt.
If they allowed themselves to feel at all. This much, she suspects, Set has in common with them. This much she feel comfortable guessing at for she had seen that avoidance in her own people time and time again for many wrongs both great and small.
Thoth is friendly, but she suspects he is also a puzzle. Perhaps a more difficult one by far–scholars often were.]
Oh. We go to the halls of Mandos, also called Námo. All souls pass through there, elves, men, dwarves. Though only elves may linger and then return rebodied. Where dwarves and men go, the songs do not say. I do not think the Doomsman knows himself.
Mandos is a place across the western sea. We had a…. Dark Valar, a being of chaos and great evil who came east and in the ground made his home full of tortured beings, twisted creations of the One and other beasts he made from I know not what. There were great wolves the size of a horse, strange creatures that flew… dragons. So many dragons, one was so large he blocked out the sun and when he fell from the sky, he smote the three mountain tops of the Thangorodrim. [At first she is fine. Morgoth or Melkor or any other name for him does not bother her. Her entire life has been spent with his shadow north of her little forested home and she had long since stopped fearing the sound of his name. However as she begins to try to explain what she meant by the cravens and why so many of them were evil, she shudders and physically pulls back so far and quickly she nearly knocks into Set as memory floods her and takes over her vision.] The host of the Valar was with the Noldor when finally he was contained but ripping him out of the land made it crack and crumble. Bit by bit we are falling into the sea and yet the shadow lingers even in his absence. Orcs come screaming out of the pits. Beasts. Dragons. Balrogs…
[Even if it may not seem it, Set is listening. Not that it makes much sense and he isn't sure if he needs to be listening. But he is certain Thoth will yell at him about diplomacy and things like that. So he listens.
And balances her when she knocks into him, hands on her shoulders. He doesn't keep his hands on her for long, not comfortable in touching anybody more than he must. But it is best if she doesn't hurt herself. He thinks he should say something to her since she is clearly upset by what has happened. The words hold no meaning to the god but they clearly do for this Mithiel. But Set doesn't know what to say.
Luckily, Thoth does. With a concerned look upon his face, he says,] You and your kind have clearly gone through a great deal. We have no twisted monsters here though I cannot say there is no evil. Still, our kingdom seems a safer land than where you come from. Perhaps that is why you are here?
[The touch, however small is comforting. He is a stranger, yes, and perhaps even a dangerous one but for a moment that simple gesture centres her and drags her mind back from the shadow. She glances at Set for less than a heartbeat, the smallest smile tugging at the corners of her mouth before Thoth speaks and drags her attention back to him.]
Perhaps it is so. I am glad you have no monsters. I have never known a life without them. Even the centuries of safety that Melian gave us all, we knew the shadow lingered in the lands above us. We were safe, but never fully at peace.
[Set doesn't smile back. He rarely smiles and he doesn't know what she smiled for. Making certain she doesn't fall seems the smallest of things he could do. Last thing anybody needed was some foreign being killing themselves from falling on the floor and hitting their head.
Thoth notices the interaction and filed that away in case they need it. Or he needs it.]
Chaotic, indeed. Since the light of Ra graces us all then you are safe here. Set is a favorite of his. Play nice with his great grandson and it should be good.
[Set rolls his eyes.] That old man just says things. Don't listen to Thoth. I am not a favorite. I have never been.
[A grandson not being loved by his grandfather is a notion beyond her ken, even though she supposes it could happen and these people already seem so foreign… but still.]
I have every intention of treating you both with the same goodness and kindness I would share with my own people. That we are safe only makes that easier.
And if that is so, I have some experience in not being favoured. I was just one of hundreds of elves, special only to my parents. You are not alone. [Congrats, you’re going to be her new friend, Set.]
[Thoth laughs, quietly and politely.] Would you listen to that, Lord Set?
[Set simply sighs. He could tell her she doesn't know because he'd killed his mother when he was born and his father hated. That he had only ever been special to one and he was gone and...
They're chaotic thoughts that enter his mind but he doesn't voice them. Thoth looks at him, as if seeing if he will. But when Set stays quiet, Thoth figures he will have to be the one to talk.]
Lord Set will show you where you can stay. [Set opens his mouth to argue, saying this should be Thoth's job but Thoth cuts him off before he can even try.] Diplomacy, your highness. Lord Osiris did have a knack for it. [He bows and it's a mockery, Set knows, but he can always be shut up when he is told his brother's name. When he is told Osiris could do this and he could. It's why he should be here.
But he is not.
So Set nods and motions for Mithiel to follow him.] Come with me.
[It doesn’t take a politician or a mind reader to know there is more going on beneath the surface than she may ever be privy to. Mithiel ignores the uneasy feeling in the back of her mind, the one that wonders what trouble has befallen her this time, what will happen? Will she drown in sand instead of brackish waters?
She’s not sure it matters. She’s not sure anything matters when the slate can be so easily wiped clean as if nothing that had lived there or known a place was worth saving. Perhaps, even, this is her punishment for being one of the Moriquendi who did not want to quit Middle-Earth and sail for fairer lands.
Offering Thoth a genuine but small smile.] Thank you for your guidance, Thoth. I will be happy to speak to you of my people when you wish.
[Mithiel then turns toward Set, following him. Her smile is still kind, though worry tugs at her features as she comfortably sets her pace to walk beside him but just half a step behind as she has no idea where they might be going. Just as her footprints had left no impression upon the sand, her feet are silent as she walks over the smooth floor.]
Your kingdom is surrounded by the sea of sand in which we met? [She doesn’t know what else to speak to him about and the silence has an uncomfortable quality to it.]
[Thoth can see the worry that is with her. For someone like him, he can notice things like that. But as for Set? He does not notice. While he knows she cannot be comfortable here, for who would in her situation, he doesn't know what he could possibly do or say.
It seems she wants to keep up conversation and he could sigh. But he does not.]
Yes. [but he does not say anything else. Anything uncomfortable she feels, he will not make better.]
[So helpful. Though in truth she imagines any conversation she might have with her own King who once still lived would hardly be more productive. She truly wasn’t important, no more than most elves. She was just a lone sinda with a particular knack for what the humans called “magic” that involved plants and trees. There were hundreds like her. Maybe thousands if you counted all elvenhomes and not just the ancient and now lost Doriath.
She lets the silence settle around them for a few minutes, her expression sorrowful and quiet.]
There seems to be much life here, even if it is an island surrounded by a barren sea.
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He hasn’t tried to stab her, at least, which is more than she can say for the rest of the not-elves she has experienced in the last few years.
Her answer about her languages appears to be a “no”, but “follow me” seems evident from his gestures and she has naught better to do in a strange land that feels wrong, so though she wonders now if he is not Gorthaur or one of his ilk… rumour did have it that the host of the Valar did not dispense with all of Morgoth’s servants. The gold nails and bright hair make her wonder. But he does not feel foul, and he is not acting especially fair in order to win her trust.
And Gorthaur did know all of their tongues…
She hums softly to herself to fill the quiet as they walk, effortlessly musical in the way that all elves were.]
I wish I knew where we were, I did not know places with so much sand existed. Perhaps we are in the south? [She is talking to herself since he does not understand her, but she suspects he will take this Better than if she broke out into song.] If so, the south has very strange maiar. [As if they aren’t all strange. Her own queen had been strange and she was the most like the firstborn that Mithiel had ever heard of a Maia being.]
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Once they are out of the desert and into the kingdom, to the palace, servants immediately rush to Set. To take his cloak and hand him the nemes, the symbol of his leadership, which is draped over his shoulder. His golden accessories that adorn his chest are now evident. He tells the servants to bring water for Mithiel and motions once more for Mithiel to follow him.
Thoth is waiting for him in his room. The god of the moon, of wisdom, and writing. He is slight but he shines like the moon would with his white hair and light red eyes. He looks gentle...until he does not. Quickly his face turns to anger. Thoth is also the god of reckoning and it shows when he starts to shout at Set for disappearing again. Mithiel may not be able to understand what Thoth is saying but it must be obvious that he is insulting Set. He needs to stop leaving by himself, he needs to be less careless, and why is he bringing strange people into the palace? Set explains his side, how it seemed like a bad idea to let her have her lay of the land if she was an enemy. There are more hushed arguments until Thoth shakes his head, smiling to Mithiel. Better for his attention to go to her than a king who was never meant to be a king anyway.
Thoth moves to Mithiel and smiles, pointing to his head with his fingers and then to her. Asking if he may touch her forehead. If she bends down for him, because Thoth is small, he puts the tips to his fingers to her, letting his magic envelop her. He focuses, speaking, trying to see when he will understand her.]
Do you understand? Do you now?
[Set rolls his eyes.] Will you keep asking her that?
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More than ever she wished she could understand their language. She could be walking into danger and not know it. Not that she was much safer out amongst sand, nary a tree to be seen. The one that her strange companion brings her too looks like he could be one of her own people.
Until he doesn’t. Until his voice turns to such a pitch that while the words escape her, she cannot help but shrink behind her golden companion, her breath quickening even though she does not try to run or even speak. Her heart is still racing when this new stranger turns his attention to her and she cannot hide anymore.
She bends when he seems to ask it of her, wondering if he knows how to share minds and if he thinks that will help, but she feels magic rush over her, feels it along her faintly shimmering skin and then she can not just hear him but understand. Huh!]
He’s afraid I will talk too much. Little does he know I could have been singing instead. [Yes, yes she does understand.]
I am Mithiel, of Doriath. [a beat passes, she frowns and sadness fills her expression.] Formally of Doriath, currently of nowhere.
Are you both Maiar? [They feel different to her queen but also from each other, which she barely keeps herself from saying as it seems rude and she would prefer to not have their anger aimed at her.]
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I am Set, King of Egypt and god of the desert and storms. [His voice is commanding and firm, much like a king's should be. He has become good at this through practice.
He motions to Thoth, who is smiling as he bows his head in greeting. He has gone back to being gentle and kind. They have company who can understand him after all.] This is my advisor, Thoth, god of the moon and wisdom.
I have never heard of a Maiar. What is that?
[Thoth looks interested. After all, he is the god of wisdom and everything about her is not human. Perhaps not even from this world. For Set, though, many things go over his head. Including these things.]
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Perhaps they are Valar that did not make themselves manifest before? She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she tries to work out a theological problem that an elf such as herself is absolutely not prepared for.]
They are Ainur. A lesser form, they tend to the world and its people or focus on their works and crafts. But perhaps you are Valar instead? They are more powerful Ainur. For example there is Varda, she who cast the stars in the sky so that we might live in darkness. I do not know this word “god”, my people have never had need of such a term. We know our creator by name, though he does not seem to ever care for us. [If a little bit of bitterness and hurt creeps into her tone, she quickly tries to mask it as she glances between them and keeps going.]
Was all that sand a “desert”? I have never seen such expanses of it before. I have never even seen a beach, only patches in places along the river.
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Ah, in our world it was Ra who did that. [Thoth says, he motions to Set.] His great grandfather. It would seem that we may be differing from our creations...[It wasn't even the truth that Ra had created everything, which Set knows, but also knows it cannot be told differently or else the scales would tip to chaos' favor.
Thoth is deep in thought and so Set answers.] We are surrounded by the desert. But our kingdom by the great Nile is fertile. The deserts are not. I've heard of lands that do not have deserts but I don't know anything about them. [He is the god of the desert after all.]
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Even the discordant note that would not stop.] Our creator is called Eru Illúvatar. We are called his children but I suspect you mean this in a more literal way than we do? It was he who played the first note in the song and he that left the first elves sleeping in the east to awaken, and he who allowed Dwarves to have true life when Aulë, the great smith, created them in secret and was found out. It was he who made men and let them follow after us.
[Though she is clearly not human, that is the first time she has said so explicitly..] He has never spoken to us directly, only through the Valar Manwë who alone has his ear. And Manwë does not often care for the elves who did not forsake the world and go east. [Hidden under her gentle, musical voice is anger about that. Perhaps her grandparents did “fail” in making the journey, but she could not see what was so wrong or worthy of scorn and neglect about loving the world that the creator of every single one of them and the Ainur too had made with the intention of them living in. She could not understand how Morgoth and his evils were something that until the last, Manwë had seemed to think they deserved. That he occasionally sent a giant eagle to save the foolish Noldor didn’t change the fact that he ignored the rest of them. He ignored her entire people, their lives, their home. He had allowed their home to be shattered and cast into the sea when Melkor was his brother…
Mithiel had never known anger until these last decades and now she boiled beneath the surface, like water cast upon the heaping slag piles that made the Thangorodrim.]
The Nile… is that a river? [She asks, her eyes softening again and curiosity returning now that she has a distraction, however brief, from her thoughts on the Valar and their poor sense of justice.] Doriath is a forest… was a forest… It was broken by the host of the Valar and now dwells increasingly beneath the sea. It was full of trees and caves, flowers and mushrooms and crops. I have spent all the years of my life within it’s girdle or not far out of it until the water came. I was born by the Sirion river that cuts through it’s western side. Beyond the borders of Doriath were more forests and grasslands, then the mountains beyond which I could see little. But I have never heard of such a sea of sand before. it was… beautiful in a way. [And terrifying, too.]
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Though he looks to Thoth, who is still listening. Intently. Set wonders if that may be a problem, fills his head with ideas. Problematic, really. How annoying.]
Yes, we have children as humans do. [Thoth answers and looks to Set, smiling.] Some of us. [Set crosses his arms and looks off to the side.] Your story seems very intriguing. I would love to be able to hear all of it and write it down. If you would be interested in telling it.
[Set sighs.]
If you are not human, not a god like us, nor any of the things you mention; what are you? You don't know about my kingdom, about deserts, or the Nile. Why were you in my desert?
[Thoth glares, obviously not happy with Set's lack of manners towards their guest.] Set.
[But Set does not look affected at all.]
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An elf. We are also called the Eldar. My own people who took the journey but did not finish it are called the Sindar, to the east from whence we first woke there are still some of our Kin who loved the land too much to come west at all, we call them the Avari. There are also our cousins the Telari who once walked with us and did cross the sea, as well as the Noldor many of whom are more troublesome than a legion of Orcs and the Vanyar, of whom we have seen little until the host came. Though Galadriel is partly one and she dwelt with us in Doriath for a time. I did not meet her. [She was nowhere near important enough to meet a guest of the King and Queen. She looks at Set, hoping he “enjoyed” her excessively long answer. She could not punish a King for his tone but she could perhaps bore him to death with a smile on her lips.]
I do not know why I am in your Kingdom, your Majesty. One of our marchwardens had set me on a horse and asked it to take me to the rest of our surviving people. Then everything turned to mist, then sand, and behold I had found myself in this strange place. It is not a craft I know anything of. I am but a forester. I have never heard of anyone passing through lands like this.
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Set had truly made a name for himself. Whether that was good or bad.
Though her long answer just brings him another sigh. He does not lash out. But he decides to remember this one loves a long answer. Set looks to Thoth if he has any idea and Thoth is in thought.]
It sounds as if you were brought here for some reason. By something. Not that I am sure what that could be. Your people are not here. We've certainly never known of elves. The word does not exist among us.
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Thingol had only listened to his wife, and even then not when it was truly important. He had been as stubborn as he had been wise and it had been the ruin of Doriath. Perhaps this was better?]
You have no word for elves, and we have no word for desert. We are both out of our element, though perhaps me more than the two of you. [Given that she is in a foreign land with no way to back up her claims or get home. She is as at their mercy as she would have been at Morgoths had she awoken in Angband in the time before he was dragged back across the sea.]
I have no ill intent for you or your people. I have never harmed anyone, even in self defence. I do not know why I was drawn here but perhaps I can be a help in some way. I am nearing a thousand years of age, I know much of my peoples craft as long as you do not make me a smith. I am very good with animals and plants.
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Thoth smiles widely.]
We have not been to war in a long while. Which is funny considering this king of ours is the god of violence as well. [Thoth puts a hand over his mouth, as if he said this by accident. Set glares because he knows it was not at all. Times like this, Thoth wants to get to him. His own way of lashing out.
Set puts a hand on his sword that lays at his hip.]
I protect these lands and war has not been necessary. Any enemy knows it is a terrible idea to cross my path. [He takes a step forward, glaring at her.] You may stay in my kingdom but know that you should not take me lightly. My brother made that mistake and now he is dead. [It was the story he had to tell. That he had killed his brother for the throne.
Thoth has simply looked on this scene and smiles to Mithiel.] Lord Set does not trifle in regards to the kingdom. But there will be no harm that will come to you. Of that, I am sure. [Set glances to him, wondering what that means.]
You are safer here. To go out to the desert again is asking for death. We can find you your way home and we can learn of your people, your history.
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I am no lover of war. I was born before the sun where everything was dangerous, and I have spent centuries in the shadow of war, of darkness and death. I do not even carry my sword. [There is her very finely crafted bow that is slung over her shoulder and the corresponding quiver, as well as a few small knifes but she carried them for hunting or on the off chance she was surrounded by orcs. Mithiel had no intention of ever starting a fight if she could avoid it. It was not in her nature.]
…Your brother? [It feels like she shouldn’t ask but it slips out before she can press her lips closed.]
If you will have me, I am grateful. I am happy to tell you as much as I can. It has been long since I have had time to talk or do anything other than try to save my people and their works.
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Exhausting, Set thinks.
Thoth speaks up, smiling to Mithiel. As if this isn't a sad story of brothers turning against one another. Like this is a bed time story.] It was Lord Osiris, the elder brother who was to be on the throne. Until Lord Set changed that.
[Sometimes Set thinks Thoth just wants to hurt someone because he cannot hurt himself. But Set does not feel like he used to. It still hurts but the pain has become duller. It is always on him after all. But he really just pities Thoth and maybe this Mithiel would be good for him.]
Enough of that. [Set orders and puts on the act he is used to now. It suits him well.] There is no need to talk of that foolish man. He is in the underworld now, a king of the dead. This is my kingdom and if you do not behave then you can meet him. You are welcome here and you can bother Thoth with all of your talk.
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More than that, he killed his brother and everyone was just fine with that? Could admit that with such ease? These people were more foreign to her than the nameless things beneath the earth.
Sure, she had heard that Fëanor had pulled his sword on Fingolfin when they were still across the sea but even he, so petty and so low for so high born of an elf did not go through with it.
Though he had caused the Kinslaying. She frowns. Could Valar or Maiar even truly die? What were these “gods”?
Leaning back, she takes the both of them in. She doesn’t know either well enough to be sure of how any of this truly affects the both of them. Perhaps it is better not to ask. At least not until they know her better and she can trust their reactions will be no worse than merely angry.]
What is an underworld? Do you also have great caverns carved out in the earth where evil things dwell? [No religion and no death meant little concept of an afterlife. All who died in middle-earth stopped by Mandos halls and she didn’t even think that an “underworld” could be related to that.]
I do not mean to bother anyone. But I will remember to mind my tongue, your majesty. [Illuvatar knows Kings have not saved her much in the past. Not even great and mighty Kings.]
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[It is all Set says. He is always quiet and now he will only talk when it is necessary. A tough thing for a king. Set is used to being reacting to this news similarly. Most people cannot understand how he could do such a thing. Set simply tried to ignore it as best as he could.
Thoth keeps the smile on his face. As always.]
The underworld is where one goes when they die. It is maintained by Lord Osiris, Lord Set's elder brother, now and the god of chaos, Apophis. We do have caverns but evil things do not lurk there.
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If they allowed themselves to feel at all. This much, she suspects, Set has in common with them. This much she feel comfortable guessing at for she had seen that avoidance in her own people time and time again for many wrongs both great and small.
Thoth is friendly, but she suspects he is also a puzzle. Perhaps a more difficult one by far–scholars often were.]
Oh. We go to the halls of Mandos, also called Námo. All souls pass through there, elves, men, dwarves. Though only elves may linger and then return rebodied. Where dwarves and men go, the songs do not say. I do not think the Doomsman knows himself.
Mandos is a place across the western sea. We had a…. Dark Valar, a being of chaos and great evil who came east and in the ground made his home full of tortured beings, twisted creations of the One and other beasts he made from I know not what. There were great wolves the size of a horse, strange creatures that flew… dragons. So many dragons, one was so large he blocked out the sun and when he fell from the sky, he smote the three mountain tops of the Thangorodrim. [At first she is fine. Morgoth or Melkor or any other name for him does not bother her. Her entire life has been spent with his shadow north of her little forested home and she had long since stopped fearing the sound of his name. However as she begins to try to explain what she meant by the cravens and why so many of them were evil, she shudders and physically pulls back so far and quickly she nearly knocks into Set as memory floods her and takes over her vision.] The host of the Valar was with the Noldor when finally he was contained but ripping him out of the land made it crack and crumble. Bit by bit we are falling into the sea and yet the shadow lingers even in his absence. Orcs come screaming out of the pits. Beasts. Dragons. Balrogs…
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And balances her when she knocks into him, hands on her shoulders. He doesn't keep his hands on her for long, not comfortable in touching anybody more than he must. But it is best if she doesn't hurt herself. He thinks he should say something to her since she is clearly upset by what has happened. The words hold no meaning to the god but they clearly do for this Mithiel. But Set doesn't know what to say.
Luckily, Thoth does. With a concerned look upon his face, he says,] You and your kind have clearly gone through a great deal. We have no twisted monsters here though I cannot say there is no evil. Still, our kingdom seems a safer land than where you come from. Perhaps that is why you are here?
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Perhaps it is so. I am glad you have no monsters. I have never known a life without them. Even the centuries of safety that Melian gave us all, we knew the shadow lingered in the lands above us. We were safe, but never fully at peace.
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Thoth notices the interaction and filed that away in case they need it. Or he needs it.]
Chaotic, indeed. Since the light of Ra graces us all then you are safe here. Set is a favorite of his. Play nice with his great grandson and it should be good.
[Set rolls his eyes.] That old man just says things. Don't listen to Thoth. I am not a favorite. I have never been.
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I have every intention of treating you both with the same goodness and kindness I would share with my own people. That we are safe only makes that easier.
And if that is so, I have some experience in not being favoured. I was just one of hundreds of elves, special only to my parents. You are not alone. [Congrats, you’re going to be her new friend, Set.]
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[Set simply sighs. He could tell her she doesn't know because he'd killed his mother when he was born and his father hated. That he had only ever been special to one and he was gone and...
They're chaotic thoughts that enter his mind but he doesn't voice them. Thoth looks at him, as if seeing if he will. But when Set stays quiet, Thoth figures he will have to be the one to talk.]
Lord Set will show you where you can stay. [Set opens his mouth to argue, saying this should be Thoth's job but Thoth cuts him off before he can even try.] Diplomacy, your highness. Lord Osiris did have a knack for it. [He bows and it's a mockery, Set knows, but he can always be shut up when he is told his brother's name. When he is told Osiris could do this and he could. It's why he should be here.
But he is not.
So Set nods and motions for Mithiel to follow him.] Come with me.
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She’s not sure it matters. She’s not sure anything matters when the slate can be so easily wiped clean as if nothing that had lived there or known a place was worth saving. Perhaps, even, this is her punishment for being one of the Moriquendi who did not want to quit Middle-Earth and sail for fairer lands.
Offering Thoth a genuine but small smile.] Thank you for your guidance, Thoth. I will be happy to speak to you of my people when you wish.
[Mithiel then turns toward Set, following him. Her smile is still kind, though worry tugs at her features as she comfortably sets her pace to walk beside him but just half a step behind as she has no idea where they might be going. Just as her footprints had left no impression upon the sand, her feet are silent as she walks over the smooth floor.]
Your kingdom is surrounded by the sea of sand in which we met? [She doesn’t know what else to speak to him about and the silence has an uncomfortable quality to it.]
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It seems she wants to keep up conversation and he could sigh. But he does not.]
Yes. [but he does not say anything else. Anything uncomfortable she feels, he will not make better.]
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She lets the silence settle around them for a few minutes, her expression sorrowful and quiet.]
There seems to be much life here, even if it is an island surrounded by a barren sea.
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