#tentative chapter title on that one is 'not technically patricide'

[aran-morinorea]

i haven't been able to think about anything but non-euclidean nan elmoth in four days and im making that everyone's problem

here's pieces of two stories Maeglin gets to tell :3c

There was a hart my father had been tracking. He had followed it at a leisurely pace, never letting it rest, for two days. It was failing; he caught sight of it, and unsheathed his knife, and then it seemed to him to simply - sprout an arrow. When he turned, there was a lady all in white, not three feet from him, her bowstring still singing. He had not noticed her approach.

and just a little while later:

We got beyond the treeline. I saw, for the first time in my life, the unfiltered sky. I remember it made my head hurt. We did not stop running. I was two paces behind her, off her right shoulder. And then my mother’s back seemed to me to simply sprout an arrow. When I turned, there was my father, in the shade of the forest’s edge, his bowstring still singing.