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[ It doesn't occur to Beleth immediately, partly due to a large part of her thoughts still being dedicated to the idea of hunting down Elros. Partly, because the first thing she thinks of with wedding is something like her brother's own, beautiful and sacred, and wonders what it might have been like in Arda, surrounded by the elves of that world.

After that, she thinks: They visited Nevarra in Firstfall.

She thinks: It's unlikely that Thranduil and Gwen were not in some manner a couple before the wedding.

She thinks: When she'd asked Thranduil why he wanted to live in the Vauquelin mansion, so long ago, he'd dodged the question neatly. She hadn't even realized he'd done it, until right now.

How long, exactly, she wonders, but does not ask. How long had he decided not to tell her--did he not trust her? Did he not think she was family enough? But Gwen needs an answer that is not a resounding silence. ]

Of course. [ It's breathed out, faint and dazed. ] I understand. No one will hear it from me. [ Except Sorrel, but that's just part of life. And now that she's had more time to digest it, she's had more time to readjust the mask that sits so readily on her face, pleasantly polite and unphased. ]

I hope it's not to late to offer my congratulations, Lady Vauquelin. And thank you for your explanation, I appreciate the candor and trust placed in me. Unless there is anything else we can discuss, would it be alright if I spoke with Thranduil again?

By all means.

( she presses his crystal back into his hands; rises up on her toes and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, not thrilled about this but not unhappy enough to hold onto it when their time together is limited and seeing him off in anger would be—

just like them, if she's honest, but not preferable. and, well.

her father tried to have him fucking killed. they are both bringing complicated family to the table, here. she knows. )

I told you they wouldn't like it, ( she murmurs, touching his arm. ) You tread carefully.

( will he? will he fuck, probably, but she's spent most of their relationship giving him warnings he's ignored, and vice versa, so that's as may be. she's not leaving, because it's her bedroom, but she will allow them the illusion of privacy while she attends to her dressing instead of, as she'd briefly been tempted to do, immediately having a maid informed they did not need to set a place for provost thranduil after all. )

[ he exhales, shakes his head so slightly that it is as if he supposes beleth could see such a thing, even when half the city away. his fingers brush at the curve of her hip before she can get out of his reach, and he retreats to the far corner of the room, as much distance as he can manage between them for beleth's sake.

he has made things more difficult for himself, he knows this, but he must account for the soul at the center of his plans. ]

Beleth, [ gently. ] I am here.

[ She's not sure how to feel, exactly. It's a lot to process--and she's not sure which part of it is the hardest. It would be best, she thinks, to give it more time before offering any official opinion. ]

Would it be too much trouble to ask you if we could continue discussing this the next time you're in the Gallows? You could come over to my room for lunch.

[ Better to meet him in person, anyway. Both to face him, and to ensure that she doesn't have any surprise participants in the conversation, again. ]

Not at all, [ smoothly. ] Tomorrow? I will return this evening but there are things I would like to have in order before the morning.

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