hadriel | ❅ Eleven (Text)

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❅ Eleven (Text)

I have a delicate matter I need to discuss with a lady; preferably one who comes from a modern era. (Since her era has been called "medieval" more than once. Surely humanity has progressed in this...?)

I thank you in advance for your time. I would also like to -

(This is more difficult.)

A great Elf has left us. He was very dear to me and I will miss him for the rest of my life.

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I have told my brother how I feel. He understands and he would not condemn me for staying where I am happiest.

(She gives an apologetic smile.)

Willowbark? I think I might. Lord Elrond left some behind and I held onto it through the move.

He is your brother, and I am sure he would want you happy! But I do not wish to part you from your family either, Sansa.

I will brew some for you, then. Are you home?

That isn't how I see it. If Jon wishes to follow, he is welcome. But if he has hope for our world, he might feel more optimistic than I do. Winter will be harsh, the Night King will bring his armies further and further South and we might all join their ranks.

(As the undead.)

I am. Do you feel up to the task?

Things sound grim, my dear. You know I would be happy if you came home with us - and your kin are welcome! But I will let you choose your own road.

[ He smiles at her ]

Tea is not an exertion, dear one! Come to the kitchen, when you are ready.

If I am given a choice by... (She waves her hand vaguely. Upper powers? Gods?) ...that is what I choose.

(Any sorrow she feels for those she leaves behind will fall to the wayside. They must do what will make them happiest.)

Thank you, Uncle.

(She is pale when she enters the kitchen, but that is one of the only signs she feels pain. Joffrey and Ramsay taught her to be silent where that is concerned.)

Willowbark sounds like it will have a strong flavor.

It does. [ He smiles at her sympathetically and passes her a mug ]

Which is why I put a goodly amount of honey in it to sweeten it. I would drink it as hot as you can bear, too - the heat nullifies some of the flavour.

I do not mind. (She will drink what she has to in order to have some relief. Taking the mug, she sits at the table and sips on it gingerly.)

I should have asked for help earlier.

You are here now, and that is all that matters.

[ Maglor settles down opposite with a cup of tea himself ]

Hopefully it will help!

(Wincing, she drinks more of the brew, sighing after she swallows.)

I hope so too. Seel suggested I try brandy or whiskey.

(And then there was Lup and her suggestion, which Sansa will never admit to accepting ever.)

[ He chuckles ]

Not for this sort of thing! If you were wounded, maybe!

(She hides a grin behind the mug.)

I feel wounded! I thought I was being stabbed when it first turned up.

[ He saw that grin! ]

Oh dear, well I am glad you did not have a bottle of whisky to hand, in that case!

[ There is plenty of wine in the house if she really wants... ]

(She has been given some amusing advice.)

I did have wine. Perhaps too much of it. I made myself sick.

(She is more careful with it now.)

Not too much, I hope!

[ He scolds fondly ]

I do not drink nearly as much as my first husband. But I think he was nearly as miserable as I was about our situation.

Misery can certainly lead one to the bottle. Tis never really been my thing, I fear - my tolerance is too high!

Is that the same for all Elvenkind? (She drinks more of the tea, enjoying the honey. Craving sugar is also part of this particular pain.)

Hardly! [ Maglor shakes his head ]

As with Men, it varies, from person to person. [ dryly ] You should see Thranduil of the Greenwood drink - I am reliably informed he can drink everyone under the table.

Is that because he drinks often and has developed a tolerance? (She isn't sure she ever wants to become that accustomed to alcohol.) I don't like the feeling of being inebriated.

I assume something of the sort. He is also the only one with regular, easy access to the wine-regions of Dorwinion, where the strongest wine grows.

Dorwinion wine must be... (Close to toxic for a mortal.) I won't become a drunk, Uncle, you have my word.

Not quite as nice as the wine from the orchards of Yavanna, but certainly some of the best I have ever tasted. But yes, very strong.

[ He smiles wryly ]

Good! I hope not.

(She finishes the tea and sets the mug down, relaxing slightly.)

Not many would have been allowed to taste Lady Yavanna's wine. (It's rather like tasting the wine of a god to her.) I have never understood the draw. There are men that drink to quiet their pain; men that drink because they are excessive and men that are trying to fill a void. I have faced my worst nightmares. How can alcohol shield me?

No one in mortal lands, this is true! But back then it was made available to all during the festivals.

[ He smiles a little sadly ]

Because it does help to numb the pain - at least for a little while. It never lasts, of course, but the brief glimpse of silence is enough, for some.

The festivals must have been lively affairs! (Her expression falls.) I have too much hope. Forgive me for being judgmental, Uncle.

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