[ a hand closes around her wrist and pulls her inside his office before the door is closed and locked, silently. the hallway is deserted anyway. he wraps her in an embrace immediately, her head tucked against his shoulder, against the damask and fur of his sleeping robe.
this is what confinement to his rooms has wrought—scattered (but undamaged) books, papers with scrawled tengwar, a small fire behind a grate. and him, unglamoured, no explanation offered for the ruin of his flesh, for the hair bound back and away from his face in a severe braid and bun.
in truth, he had hardly considered her reaction to it, so great had been his need to see her again. ]
no subject
this is what confinement to his rooms has wrought—scattered (but undamaged) books, papers with scrawled tengwar, a small fire behind a grate. and him, unglamoured, no explanation offered for the ruin of his flesh, for the hair bound back and away from his face in a severe braid and bun.
in truth, he had hardly considered her reaction to it, so great had been his need to see her again. ]
Gwenaëlle. [ it is all he need say. ]