#Eol's death after this will be caused by Curvo

[lordsofhimlad]

iwillgoalone

Aredhel smiled a little, she’d quite forgotten how careful and clever her cousin was, and was grateful he had such skill of mind within him that he kept his distance and seemed to be more willing to help her with her wounds than to pry. She nodded ever so slightly, an unusual welling of some form of emotion making her almost weep in happiness. Relief. That was it. “It would be most welcome, Curvo.” She replied, wiping at the water which had gathered in her eyes, forcing herself to refrain from tears. “Lómion doesn’t like to see them, he’d be grateful if they went away faster.” As would she, the dull throb in her cheek was never fun. Twirling a long curl about her finger she spoke again. “He might come for me, you know. Lómion said he’s been having visions of it, and I’m prone to believe him. If he does…” she trailed off. What would she do if he did? Leave? Given how her cousins were there was probably no safer place in Beleriand, besides that she was still so unsure of how Turgon would react to her presence once more. So she left it unsaid, leaned further into her chair before she sighed. “Nevermind, I lost my line of thought.”

    “Should he come then I assure you that I shall personally greet him. It would be most remiss of us should it not be either Tyelcormo or myself that meets with him upon his arrival.” Curufin felt a small thrill at the thought of her ‘husband’ walking right to them. If Celegorm was the one to welcome the Avarin Lord then he may make it through the doors, but not much further.

    “I shall see it done, it would be far better for those to be cared for than for you continuing to sit there in pain. I can also get some clean water for cleaning that lip of yours.”

     Turning he went to one of the shelves lining the walls. Opening one of the drawers there he dug through it until he found the jar he was looking for. Picking it up he walked back to where she was sitting. Crouching he opened the jar and dipped his fingers into the mixture. Slowly, giving her time to stop him if she wished, he touched her face over the bruises carefully rubbing the liniment over the skin.

     “Macalaure would welcome you, as would any of our family should you wish to turn elsewhere. Though I am sure that Macalaure would try to turn you elsewhere with your safety in mind, his lands are the least safe of my brothers’, and Maitimo’s are likely the safest.”