lintamande | don't touch me

Confirmation reaches them in the spring that Elwing of Sirion has the Silmaril.

It takes as long as the spring only because they weren't looking. They can stretch the oath that far, they can be disinterested in knowing - but now they know, and so there it is. Elwing of Sirion is twenty-three. Half-man, so fully grown. Sirion is a city of refugees. Elves and Men and, since there are Men, children. Elwing herself has infant children.

They debate whether to send messengers. Debating is allowed, even protracted debating. The Oath, these days, is loud in their minds, and louder when they're pushing it like this, but they drag out the debate for a few months. Messengers will probably be shot on sight. The last time Elwing of Sirion received news of the House of Fëanor it would have been the news that her brothers, twins, aged seven, had not survived the sack of Menegroth.

They send messengers anyway. The messengers are shot on sight. They have good armor, Fëanorian armor, and return home injured but not lethally. Maglor's songs no longer stitch them together. War makes you worse at healing. Maglor's songs are more powerful than ever - he can knock back a wave of approaching enemies, he can make a blade's next touch deadly, he can make them faster and more impervious to danger, but he can no longer do healing.

Maedhros, when he thinks about this, thinks that perhaps there needs to be part of you that is not broken for healing spells to draw on. Or perhaps the Enemy is amused to strip that away first. Perhaps the Enemy finds it suited to the theme as the Oath tugs and yanks and twists them into violence against the lands they once defended and the peoples they once sheltered.

They send messengers to Sirion again. The messengers deliver a plea for the Silmaril, an offer of anything at all in exchange. The messengers do not return at all.

The Enemy is many many hundreds of miles from here but at night Maedhros can hear him in his head. Is it so implausible that I really let you go? the Enemy likes saying. You serve me better free than you ever would have willingly.

The Oath allows them to work slowly. They begin planning the sack of the refugee camp even more slowly than the Oath allows, so slowly that its currents are constantly tugging at them. Any slower and the currents would erode all the things they care about which are not the Oath, and it would be a disaster to go to Sirion once they've been stripped of their capacity to care about anything that is not the Silmaril. So they do not hold out forever. But they work as slowly as they can.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

lintamande

No, I don't expect so. I am sorry. You are really the first person to whom I owe an apology, but - science lessons and the tools to hop through the galaxy doing as you see fit really seems like it will suffice in some sense in your case, and most people don't want such easy things.

From:

imeanforever

I could have gotten away if I'd wanted.

From:

lintamande

Before I sent you to Ulmo, even? I realized later that at that point you could have done.

From:

imeanforever

That was the obvious loophole in the orders I actually got but I was also not leaning nearly as hard as I could have on how guilty you were about it, and I think if I had you would have messed up exploitably sooner.

From:

lintamande

He smiles at her. Yes, probably. I am sorry anyway.

Do you want us to build you a house here?

From:

imeanforever

That would be useful. She sings up the inside of her tree as she left it: bed nook above the bookshelf. Kitchenette, table, cushions to sit on.

From:

lintamande

We can do something very much like that.

From:

imeanforever

I might need more bookshelf than that, here.

From:

lintamande

Noted. And he smiles at her again and goes off to talk to Findekáno. They still don't touch, but they move like one when they're building things.

From:

imeanforever

Awwww.

From:

lintamande

People come back with coal a little while later. A forge is lit. The town is already getting quite noisy.

From:

imeanforever

Promise needs more sleep than these people do. She finds a tree with a sleepable branch and sleeps on it.

From:

lintamande

When she wakes up they are still working. Maedhros waves at her. Want to talk about science more?

From:

imeanforever

Sure. Over she flutters.

From:

lintamande

This is how we learned everything we know about botany. Planting beans in fairyland to see if genetics works would be very interesting. Does she know enough about breeder fairies to guess about trait heredity?

From:

imeanforever

She's never interacted closely with them; breeder courts tend to be unmixed, none of them lived very near her tree until shortly before she was captured, Thorn only had a handful and they didn't talk to Promise about their families. She does know that breeders have all different ways of reproducing and they don't consistently involve two parents and definitely don't consistently involve the sort of things mortals do to have children. Actually, she's not sure if any of them involve that? She's pretty sure she's never heard reference to a pregnant fairy?

From:

lintamande

Huh. Okay, bean plants it is, then. The way fairies do it seems sensible.

From:

imeanforever

Fairies do breed plants! All kinds of plants. Probably many kinds of plants were bred once and then spread from there unattended. There is frequently magic involved but she thinks not always?

From:

lintamande

So perhaps plants in fairyland have genes. Though perhaps not, if they don't die - do they never die? If they do die, what eats the debris, because here there are insects and worms for that...

From:

imeanforever

Oh, plants die! And rot, eventually.

From:

lintamande

Do you have very very small animal-like things that can't even properly be called animals? And can only be seen under microscopes? Do you have microscopes?

From:

imeanforever

No microscopes.

From:

lintamande

Well! This will be an interesting thing to check when they have microscopes. Here is the concept. He can't show her one now because lens grinding takes time.