#thingol; connections ;; sasha; sashaofravenlock

[menelvagor]

Thingol noted to never lift a hand such before Sasha again, and he never would from then on, aware of the trauma raised in her body movement from his own. It hardened his heart toward those of her people who would treat her so awfully, so easily. He knew he could never, for his heart would break for her sweetness to be so tainted.

"I hope that me granting the both of thee much needed time together would not upset him. He shall not lose his standing as best guard, beside Beleg, no matter his time away with his wife that I shall grant. If he shall be, I will discuss it with him."

He smiled sadly at her, and knew that perhaps she would benefit seeing more of Menegroth and Doriath, traveling about with him and Melian, Lúthien, and the Captains. They would one day find what amused her - or distracted her - best. "What if we show thee more of our lands that we know as the backs of our hands? Perhaps thou wouldst enjoy traveling with me and Melian in the summer? Attend one of Lú's parties?"

"None of us here think what has transpired was by any means thy fault. What they did to thee shall not go without being answered to, for unnecessary cruelty. No more harm shall be done by those thou live with."

She flinched as he raised a hand, a few tears falling from the movement and a shudder running down her spine even as his hand remained in the air. "Will Mablung be upset that you are granting us more time together before he must go again?" Her comfort meant nothing to her if it was at Mablung's expense.

"I..." her eyes searched around them, her mouth hung open as she debated answers to Thingol's question before a defeated sigh filled the space instead. "I do not know what to ask for... I'm not used to any aspects of life here beyond remaining in the room."

How embarrassing it was, admitting to the King that she knew not how to live outside of four walls. Caged birds still knew how to sing and fly, yet she was incapable of anything beyond the bars of her own cage.

Guilt stirred within her heart as he spoke, her ears folding back as she looked away from him and towards the ground. "I earned what harm had been done to me and will likely earn more as time goes by..."

[menelvagor]

Thingol gently placed his hand on the back of Sasha's opposite shoulder when she moved beside him, not paying heed to the length of time it took her to do as he silently bid. He wanted her to see and learn all that she could, and also to be one of the first to see such a beautiful work of art as his gift would be. She could be trusted.

He waved at the guards that they were no longer needed, especially as the Naugrim were glaring most unfavorably at them and did not like when they accompanied the King. Thingol did not mind; he did not particularly want any of his own to get any of their own ideas and take his new necklace.

The dwarf looked up at the towering elven King and said gruffly, "King Greycloak, we have finished." Two others came forward with the giant necklace, with the Silmaril gleaming in the center, surrounded in silver and many colors. It was resting on a velvety pillow of blue.

"Look with me," Thingol invited Sasha, leaning forward, drawn in by the beauty of the gem. It called to him, beckoning him to take it up. He heeded this call of the covetousness of part of the dragon's hoard. His slender hand reached out to take the necklace, but the Naugrim quickly pulled it from his reach. He had not noticed but now all the dwarves in the smithy were standing, glowering at him. Some had even stealthily been reaching for weapons under their work benches.

The second she entered the smithy the weight of the nearby iron sat heavily on her mind and her past experiences, despite being centuries away, threatened to unbury themselves. Scarred hands wrung themselves behind her back, the fey taking a desperately needed moment to breathe and steady herself before stepping out from behind the elven king and into the view on the Naugrim.

Any momentary sense of relief she felt from steadying herself was lost with a singular glance toward the dwarven smiths. Call it premonition or intuition, there was something ill forming within these walls.

She did not show any sign of being troubled as Thingol beckoned her beside him, instead she immediately stood beside him, her ears pricked and fixated on the dwarves.

[menelvagor]

The King looked around at the flowers sprouting around them, finding mirth in the external display of Sasha's overwhelming emotion. He knew this was important to her, and it was nearly as important to him now as her father-figure.

He felt her grip tighten but ignored it, allowing this moment to be all for his daughter. "That is well. I am glad that he shall have a chance to be a father as well; it is most rewarding. Not always is it so cheerful, but I regret it not."

He lifted her small hand up in his own and kissed the back of it lightly, smiling at Sasha. "I appreciate it. We shall understand."

She beamed at him, flowers growing more wildly as she chuckled with him. The energy expenditure was more than she needed it to be, her emotions and magic less controlled due to her joy of finally being pregnant.

"He will be, he was far more excited than I had expected," she squeezed his hand tighter, not noticing the change in her grip because of her scarring. "Thank you, again, Adar. I will be sure to give you advance notice should there be meetings I must miss."