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[ he watches her eviscerate her pie, eyes up and down with the fork. ]

Is that what this is? 'Faffing'?

[ she cares. he appreciates that. does not appreciate her dragon, but that particular discussion needs to wait. ]

I am afraid I cannot. We—are like unto swans, if you would prefer an elegant comparison. We have one and one only the whole of our lives. I am incapable of having another, and in truth, it would be—difficult. We do not consider our adults to be as much until the hundredth year of their life. I doubt I would find any Dalish of that age who would not break my heart within a few years of committing.

Oh, like dilly dallying—[ That's probably not helpful. ]—pointlessly running around, wasting my time. I’d have to quit my job if I wanted to devote myself to chasing after every elf who wishes to join with a human. [ She's not sure why, they aren't that special. ]

I understand the concept of being with one person for life. With a life as long as yours, I can see how that would create...complications. [ She studies her fork thoughtfully for a moment. ] How old is Lady Vauquelin, if I may ask?

It could be your new job, [ he suggests, cutting a small bite with the side of his fork and bringing it to his lips before pausing. ] But you and your brother are the last Asharas here, are you not?

[ he takes the bite, chews, considers, tines nearly resting against his mouth. ]

Do you know, [ he comments, the answer as elusive to him as corypheus' orb to the inquisition. ] I have not asked.

My brother had...disagreements with our mother. I haven’t asked for details, from either side. But I doubt he’ll stay like that for long, I suspect he’ll just try transferring during the upcoming arlathvhen.

[ That’s what she’s hoping for, at least, because she can handle transferring clans. The idea of him completely abandoning the clans is too horrible to think about, and it would mean that she would, of course, have to follow him. It’s a topic she’s been avoiding with Sorrel, and this probably isn’t the time to bring it up to Thranduil.

So instead, she rises to her feet, and walks across the room, to the bookcase filled with files. After a few moments of searching, she pulls one of the files out, then takes from it a paper. ]

Lady Gwenäelle Vauquelin, 24 years old. She’s younger than me. And I doubt she’s planning on making it past 100.

Edited 2018-04-27 03:35 (UTC)

Perhaps he will be happier elsewhere. [ and this is a true thing, a genuine wish. he hates to see so many leave their clans, bed humans, no hope of elflings.

if he is made a hypocrite-- but that is a thing at least a little in the distance. there will be no talk of children until after the war.

he watches her walk, making no commentary and only leaning back in his chair slightly to make sure his eyes stay on her. he likes watching her in her space, likes her confidence. ]

Ah, [ he says, and is at least glad of her apathy towards her own birthday. he would hate to forget it. ] No, and neither will you. And there is nothing I can do to keep death from either of you- from any of the elves here. I have accepted this.

I’m not afraid to die.

[ She says it with the practiced ease of someone who has said it before, and is as sure of it now, as she was then. She’s more important now, she’s making a difference, she has plans. But she is still a single elf, and a single life.

She stares at the paperwork for a few moments longer, than sighs and returns to her seat, taking up her pie. ]

And I wish for nothing but happiness for you. You deserve nothing less. I just—I just worry.

Fear it enough that you avoid it.

[ she is too young to die. he watches her eat. ]

I am touched. What is it that you worry about?

I do my best to.

[ She gives a noncommittal shrug, shoving a piece of carrot in her mouth, which serves as a convenient means of stalling until she can think of something that doesn't sound like paranoid hand wringing. ]

I worry that you'll get hurt. It's...so easy to get hurt, when it comes to relationships. And I think that you're one of the strongest people I've ever met, but you can't just slap a bandage over those kinds of wounds.

If she betrays me, it will break me, [ he admits. and perhaps it is cruel of him to hold a young woman to the bonds of forever, even when he explained them to her, and think they will be as binding and seem as born out of love at twenty five as they will at fifty five. ] And when she dies, it will ache, but I have mourned her death every day I have known her. But I will endure. The elvhen need me.

[ Beleth ponders asking, what good are you to us if you're so easily broken? But that seems unnecessarily cruel, so instead, she shrugs. ]

I suppose that's something everyone who loves someone else has to reconcile. Lovers, family, friends. And I suppose it's not like our current predicament is giving any of us good odds for longevity.

[ It's a odd way to comfort someone, she supposes. ]

I won't say that I think it's a good idea, Thranduil. But it sounds like you've...come to terms with whatever it entails.

[ 'your nature doesn't allow for it', but he thinks it, same as he's thought it for years now. perhaps it will not be righted for them, but for their children, yet unborn, the word might be made right.

he owes them that. ]

Better to have it than to not. Better to have the children, when they come.

[ a smile, finally. beleth, aren't you excited to be an aunt? ]

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