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Eight centuries. [ She murmurs it in wonder. ] I can't imagine living that long. If I were that old, I would have seen the Dales--And seen it fall, I suppose. [ She frowns. She couldn't imagine what that must have been like for her ancestors. ] Maybe...It's a good thing I never had to see that.

[ Her kneejerk reaction is to tell Thranduil that she isn't equal, or all that worthy, or--anything all that amazing, she is just one elf in a sea of amazing people. But--that's arguing with Thranduil, which would be pretty rude, considering.

Besides. Humans have done some pretty disgraceful shit. ]

You're right. I just...need to wait. It'll be okay. I have time. I just wish there were more Dalish here. Or elves, really.

[ There were currently two Dalish men that Beleth knew of, one being gay and the other being a former fuckbuddy, which is not something she is going to explain to Thranduil. ]

In times of war, it will seem like a very long time. [ all the losses, piling atop one another, the endless running, following his father with the last of the sinda of doriath who had followed them, his knives and bows constant companions-- he slips near into reverie without realizing it, but comes back to himself smoothly. he pinches the braid between thumb and forefingers, running his hand through his hair and returning with a strand that he uses to bind the first braid up for lack of other options, then takes another lock, starting the braid that means 'hunter'. ] In peace, it will pass in an instant.

[ he realizes, amused, that he's hardly had his age come up. cyril, he may have told, but what's the point? curious, he asks: ] How many years do you think I've lived?

[ he hums, softly, a few notes from the lay, and yes, he'd be able to grasp the concept but the explanation would be... an interesting demonstration of just how embarrassed beleth could get. ]

I cannot help but wish one of my marchwardens might come to Thedas. His help would be immeasurably useful-- and there is one in particular I would have liked for you to meet. When is the next gathering? There ought to be plenty of young men for you to meet then. Or perhaps someone from the city?

It feels like Thedas spends more time in war than not. There's always one part of it that's fighting against another part. [ Through Tevinter fighting the Qunari, or Fereldan fighting Orlais--or mages fighting Templars. ] Does Middle Earth have more peace?

[ At the question of his age, she hesitates, almost spinning around to look at him, as though that would give her any indication of the exact number. But she stays still, frowning up at the ceiling in thought. She knew he was immortal, like the Elvhen of old, but the scale of just how old the elves could be was simply out of her scope. How could someone who only had a handful of decades grasp living over thousands upon thousands of years?

She would have guessed--maybe 500? That seemed impossibly old, but the way he'd spoken of Luthien being 800...She clicked her tongue in thought, then hesitantly offered: ]

Maybe...A thousand? That'd be...before we even started using ages to keep track of the years.

[ Distant, impossible ages were all but forgotten in light of a much more relevant topic: herself. And people. And people interacting with her. This time, she does end up pulling away from Thranduil so she can stare at him, face a mixture of embarrassment and alarm. ]

I--? Um. Well--If you think so. I'd be honored--? If I met them. But. I mean, it'll be fine. The next arlathvhen...I'm not sure, but the Keeper said that with everything that's been going on, they're talking about moving it forward. There's a lot to discuss. A fl--city elf wouldn't be terrible, if they'd be willing to come to the clan. But surely they would want to escape the alienage?

But this is all assuming the Keeper doesn't find someone first. So if all else fails, there's always that option.

[ She sounds much less dismal about it than Cyril did. It's not like her mother would ever force her to bond to someone. And she always seemed to know what was best for Beleth, moreso than she did herself. ]

[ he smiles—or, his lips curl, and he looks haunted, though she cannot see. he is staring off into some other time, more there than here when he says: ] There has only ever been one war.

[ for the elves, at least. he catches himself and soothes his glamour back into calm amusement, lips tilting into a smile. ] Nearer to seven.

[ one thousand is nothing to him now, but beleth’s comment does cheer him some, and he’s merrier as he starts on the other side of her hair, trying to arrange it into something that both suits her and respects her position. it’s turning out quite well, in his opinion. ]

A …? [ he leads, having not quite caught the first half of what she said and supposing it just as interesting as the rest. ] How arranged are your betrothals? Are you offered a selection, or one only?

[ Only having one war seems to be too good to be true, but Beleth knows that even one war is, really, one war too many. She can't see Thranduil's expression, but--she drops the subject. War isn't a pleasant topic, no matter what.

Furthermore, she's distracted by the, quite frankly, ridiculous age that Thranduil actually is, and sputters. ] Seven--Seven thousand? That's--Humans hadn't even arrived in Thedas by then! That's amazing.

Um. It was just. Another word for city elf. But, um. Not...polite. At least, to city elves. [ But the Dalish used it as often as 'shemlen', and Beleth used it among other Dalish freely. Maybe the city elves should just stop being so SENSITIVE. ]

Oh--It's more like matchmaking, really. It's all optional. And plenty of people bond without outside interference. But if you're still single by a certain age and you haven't really shown much success on your own, sometimes Keepers will...try to help you along. They usually just ask around to other Keepers, if they have any single people around your age, and they might pick someone they think would suit you. Then they'll bring it up with you, and have the two of you meet, and see how you get along.

We're not shemlen, we don't force anyone to agree to a match. You can say no, or break off at any point in the engagement. [ What Beleth doesn't mention is that refusing is entirely dependent on your willingness to snub your Keeper and what they think is best for you. Which. Can be difficult. ]

[ he appreciates not having to speak of sauron-- he would answer her questions willingly enough, because he welcomes her curiosity, but sauron and melkor have always been--

evil can be summoned by simply speaking of it. and if thedas cannot handle corypheus, it certainly cannot handle melkor or sauron, and he is loath to allow even the slightest hint of risk with these elves who are so precious and so fragile. ]

There were no Men was I was young. It was [ pause. ] preferable.

[ he finishes with her hair, securing it in place with a twist and knot, and then settles his hands on his knees, leaning back and taking his looking glass, offering it to beleth handle-first. ]

They are your kin too, Beleth. gently, as always. I suspect they have words for the Dalish that you dislike.

[ he will make them get along if he has to put every elf into a giant get-along shirt. ]

And how many break off the engagement?

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