#leithien

--- Picking moonlit flowers, Lúthien had strayed just far enough from Daeron that she could hear him calling her. Small feet running barefoot in the grass, she stifled her giggles behind her hand and hid behind a tree. It took a moment before she heard the sound of sniffling, and so rounded the trunk to find an elfling not much younger than herself. "Hello there. . ." She greeted softly, twinkling stars in her hair casting a soft glow as she knelt in front of him with worried violet eyes. "Who are you? Why are you crying?" Was he alright? "I'm Lúthien. What's your name?"

Oh no, someone had found him. Eöl stubbornly wiped his eyes and stared at the - oh, he knew her. King Thingol's daughter. He remembered his mother's teachings about her mother, and shrank away, a little afraid.

"Ada I found a boy in the woods, his name is Eöl. . . Can we keep him? His mother is awful, calling him a coward, and belittling him. Please Ada? He's my friend. Can't we do something?" Little Lúthien asks with a pout as shes curled up on Thingols lap. -✧- @leithien

Thingol brushed his hand gently over Lúthien's hair as she sat in his lap and he listened to her tell a tale of her day in the forest. "You ask if we can keep a young boy, as though he were an animal in the woods you wish to keep as a pet," he began with an affectionate smile, but his brow was lifted curiously.

-turns sickly pale-

Thingol looked down at Lúthien as she stood beside him and had bit him. His eyes fell immediately to meet her own, recognizing the pout forming on her small face. "Oh, little dear," he said in response, leaning down to pick up his daughter.

He had just about ignored the way she bit his arm, for the pain was not much, and there was much he would do to make his daughter smile and laugh again. "What brings thee to pout and to bite, my forest beast? Has my attention been spent too long elsewhere?"

This was all a very strange matter to him. He had not been in Menegroth to see the confrontation, though he had caught a glimpse of her mortal as he had passed back out of Doriath, and found him quite handsome and good-natured, for a man walking into death. 

“No. That is what worries me.”

And it was even stranger that Thingol – who had ever doted on his daughter – had locked her away like this. It sat uneasily with Beleg. 

“You cannot flee by foot. Your mother will know the second you pass the Girdle.”

"It isn't that hard, Celeborn. Maybe I can try another way... if you tell me where I keep losing you?"