Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post 2

[questionablewit]

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[takesnoshit]

"I have never feared your anger." The words are soft but sure. Caranthir would tear himself into pieces with his own hands before he would hurt someone he loved, Oath or no Oath. Haleth has always known it. And beyond that, what is there to fear? "I am certain she does not either. But Canien will do as she wills. If she chooses to stay with you, I think you will have little luck dissuading her."

Her head hurts. Her heart hurts. Haleth closes her eyes again. "But I will tell her. She should only be a few days behind me, if that; she travels more quickly than I. Would you rather meet her with me present, or would you prefer I go?"

[grumpycatanthir]

Finally, a wry smile. "You are one of the few."

He shakes his head.

"Stay. If this is the last time, let it be a good time."

[takesnoshit]

Haleth laughs, though there is little humor in it. "Do you count this a good meeting?"

[grumpycatanthir]

"You're here." He manages a smile. "And you've brought me news of a daughter I never thought was possible. Considering the alternatives, certainly it's a better meeting than I might have hoped for."

[takesnoshit]

Haleth looks at him measuringly for a long time.

"I am surprised," she says finally, "that you consider my being here a good thing, given the various ways in which I have hurt you. Both intentionally and otherwise."

She did her best to turn his love for her into hate, last time they met, using all his deepest fears and weaknesses to wound him; it was the only thing she could think of that might free him from loving her. She is a little surprised he has met with her at all, given that.

[grumpycatanthir]

He shrugs, awkwardly.

"Yeah. Well. I was very angry. But that's... I'm almost always angry. You... said nothing untrue. And... I missed you."

[takesnoshit]

Absently her hand rises to her collar, rubbing lightly at the embroidery there. Sharp eyes would catch that the cloth is worn slightly more thin there than on the rest of the embroidered collar and cuffs of her shirt, as though this is a gesture she does often. "I spoke truth, but not all the truth," Haleth says in her quiet voice, looking back at the fire. "And I have missed you, also. Every day."

[grumpycatanthir]

He notes the action, and a small part of him is extremely pleased, that she both wears his things, and takes comfort in it.

"I forgive you." He murmurs softly. "I did mention my family have a .... problem in letting go."

[takesnoshit]

For the first time Haleth smiles at him, and if it is small and a little rueful, still it is warm and real. "You did."

[grumpycatanthir]

He shrugs awkwardly at her, cheeks flushed.

"Yes. Well. She's got to be a stubborn one, our daughter. Considering. Who her parents are."

[takesnoshit]

Her smile grows a little more fond as he blushes. He hates his tendency to go red-faced, she knows, but she has ever found it endearing. "She is, as stubborn as either you or I have ever been. But also intelligent, resourceful, skilled..."

Her gaze goes distant, and her expression softens to something even Caranthir will never have seen, save perhaps a little when she has looked on her nephew Haldan: deep pride and deeper love. "I have long been resigned to never having children of my own. But had I designed one, she would meet my wishes in every way. She has all the best qualities of us both, but is free in a way neither of us has ever been."

[grumpycatanthir]

"That, she takes from you, I imagine." He says softly, watching her wistfulness and pride.

"I am glad. We are both of us bound to our roads, although yours, I think, has a better end than mine. But she is free, and that is good, for something of us will survive."

[takesnoshit]

Her attention returns to the here and now, though the wistfulness remains on her face. "I have not asked her of either of our endings, though I know she has seen both. Some things should not be known. But yes, it is a great comfort to me to know that after everything, she will remain, and carry us with her. And that she is happy."

[grumpycatanthir]

Caranthir wonders absently, how much time he has. Will he be able to say goodbye to Haleth, before the Oath or Doom claim him? (He bets on the Oath, personally)

"It is to me as well." He agrees. "Hah! Old Namo was wrong then. Not everything will come to evil ends, it seems."

[takesnoshit]

Haleth could tell him that much. But no doubt Canien will.

For now she smiles, bemused at hearing one of the Valar referred to with such almost contemptuous familiarity. Her people would be shocked. Haleth never is. "He was. At least one of your creations endures, and is beautiful, with no touch of evil in her."

[grumpycatanthir]

Caranthir suspects this is because she is half-human, as humans get a rather major advantage in the Fate stakes.

"She must be beautiful, she has you for a mother! As long as she doesn't have my coloring..."

[takesnoshit]

Most humans would disagree with that assessment. Haleth is not one of them.

She snorts a little. "I am not beautiful," she reminds him, a thing she has said before. Strong of features, healthy, determined, many desirable qualities, but not beautiful. Not as the term is reckoned. It is not a matter of self-esteem; to her the adjective is simply inaccurate, so she always argues the point. For a brief moment it feels as though they are where they were years ago, the same friendly disagreement, the same easy conversation. "But she is. She has more of my coloring than yours, but in most respects I would say she is more your daughter than mine. She takes very much after your people."

[grumpycatanthir]

"I think you are." He reminds. "Not as the Eldar are beautiful, true, but you are beautiful in your own right."

He grimaces. "At least if she looks like you it will be harder for folk to connect her to me. I am not sure that taking too much after an elf is a good idea."

[takesnoshit]

The responses he has always given. How can so much have changed, and so little? Is it always like that with the Eldar, or is that just time? Haleth grimaces a little herself, and does not argue the point. "She has my coloring," she says instead, to reassure him. "Your dark eyes, but my brown hair." Lighter than his by far, but darker than that of most of her kin, a deep chestnut brown. "She has your mannerisms, but my features. It would be difficult for one who did not know you well to recognize her as your kin, I think."

But very obvious to anyone who has seen them both laugh, anyone who will recognize the quirk of eyebrow above the rare flash of a smile.

[grumpycatanthir]

"That is good." He murmurs, calculating in his mind's eye who he would need to keep from looking at her and realising.

"If she looks enough like you to be one of your people, she will, at least, be able to claim your folk as kin, which should afford her some safety."

[takesnoshit]

Haleth's face stills, and her body tenses minutely. After a moment, she shakes her head. "She is too obviously one of the Firstborn for that. But you speak as though it is yet to come, whereas for her it is the past. She already knows what to do, what was done. Trust her wisdom."

[grumpycatanthir]

He blinks at her, broken from his train of thought.

"... I... had not thought of it that way. I suppose that is true."

[takesnoshit]

Haleth grimaces just a little, still tense. Carefully she reaches for a stick and pokes at the fire, moving a log to catch alight, sending sparks into the air. "You will need to be wary," she says finally. "Of what questions you ask. Not for her sake, but for your own. There are things better not known, and it is difficult to avoid them."

[grumpycatanthir]

He looks at her and sighs.

"I will be careful. But you are... tense. What is it, or is this something you cannot say?"

[takesnoshit]

Haleth grimaces again, for she had not wished to discuss this. But at the same time she does, for there is no one else in all the world with whom she might. And Eru knows she has failed to put it from her mind, despite many attempts.

She is silent another moment, looking into the fire but seeing beyond this. "Canien has lived...many years. Many centuries. Ages." Her voice is very quiet. "Long enough to see the Haladin thrive past me, but also long enough to see them eventually dispersed, mingled and intermixed with other tribes of men."

Haleth sighs and rubs her forehead. "And so it should be, perhaps, must be. The Gift of Men is ending, and with endings come change, unavoidable change. It is well. But it is also...difficult, to know that all my efforts now, all the things sacrificed, will be as nothing." The curve of her lip is bitter. "The reward for a Chieftain's hubris, perhaps. It is not my duty to see that the Haladin survive forever, merely to tend to them now, and to prepare for the next generation to follow me. But still, it is hard." She does look at him now, rue in her eyes. "A little like what you feel when you look towards your future, I imagine. A little."