#*screeching*

Never had Celegorm felt such raw, intense fury brewing in his stomach. Not when his father burned away before his very eyes, not when his brother returned, battered and broken beyond words, not when he found himself so utterly rejected by the Vala to whom he opened his very soul for. It was hard for him to think, to even see that before him stood an elf, a man blinking and breathing and with a heart beating like his own, and if he was not so accustomed to reining in his anger, he didn’t doubt that the bloodlust writhing in his flesh would have released itself and feasted on Eöl’s screams. Instead, he stayed his ground. “You dare call yourself her husband? You have the gall to name yourself, you, who stole a daughter of the Noldor, with neither her consent nor her love, her husband?!” I could not protect you then, he thinks bitterly, in spite of Aredhel’s warnings. If death is what I must suffer to protect you know, then let death claim me once and for all. Without warning he drew his sword, its tip pointed directly to Eöl’s throat. “That’s right, Sinda. You’re treading paths with a goddamn Kinslayer. I care not for the customs of our kin, or the laws of the Valar or Eru himself. So choose: leave, and never show your face in my lands again, or meet the same bloody end that those of Alqualondë did beneath my blade.”

Aredhel could almost feel him buzzing in rage, and though it should by all logic frighten her, it calmed her through and through. She prayed that Eöl would concede, that the fear he held in his heart for her family would help in him deciding to step away and never return. But where she knew Eöl's rage to lie, left a new fear to grow.

For Eöl was silent. Long had she learned to fear his silence, knowing that beneath such seeming calm lie a monster ready to strike. Her hand curled into Celegorms back, an unspoken plea of warning. She had just gotten him back, she could not lose him now. There was so much to say, to do, beside the obstacle of the dark elf before them, standing motionless on the end of Celegorms blade, there was a future she might still enjoy. But if it began with Celegorms death, it would forever be tainted by the moments she would lose. Moments she had already lost with all this time apart.

Eöl took one step back, eyeing the blade in a mixture of disgust and fascination. In spite of his faults, Aredhel knew he appreciated good workmanship, and likely was examining it with a critical eye in spite of the fact it was poised to kill him.

"Very well, Kinslayer. Keep her. Defile her as only your house can, but give me back the boy at least. You cannot hold claim over him as you do his mother, he is mine, and I will not leave without him."

I am Mentally Unwell About Them.

Honestly, the gith sorcerer romancing Gale turned out so perfect.

When a gith who made their home in the Astral says "I don't need the stars, Gale, I have you."

When a sorcerer who has lived in a city built on the bones of gods, and saw what Vlaaktih made herself in pursuit of Godhood, says "Mystra was once moral, you will become corrupted as you believe she has."

When Yrezia, who has been surrounded by wealth and privilege as one who 'graduated' from the creche, leaving all that behind as their beliefs and world crumbles around them, says to Gale "You're already everything I need you to be".