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[rowancrowned]

 

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[rowancrowned]

He is jealous? Why? You are his daughter, it makes only sense that you should one day leave his house to build your own. Is it the custom to cloister daughters so unbreathable close?

[ he's already thinking of what ribbons would suit her best. he's not afraid of the spectre of her father, a man more poet than warrior. ]

[elegiaque]

I don't know, ( she lies. ) I don't pay it any mind.

[rowancrowned]

I did not mark you as ignorant of what happens around you.

Should I expect trouble from your father?

[elegiaque]

I don't keep him appraised of my affairs.

( a beat. )

Or my not affairs.

[rowancrowned]

[ a moment of silence. ]

White, I think. With silver embroidery.

[elegiaque]

I'm going to go to sleep.

( look how good she will be for presents. )

[rowancrowned]

And eat, and bathe.

[ very good. he might need so stock up. ]

No vaer i dhû, Gwenaëlle.

[elegiaque]

Goodnight, Thranduil.