#silmarxls

                     ♔;

Fanyasule felt a small flutter of something - nervousness, fear, anxiety - he didn’t quite know. He gave the other a conflicted frown, before beginning to wring his hands together. 

“I.. I do not know.. It is not fear, but I- maybe, I...” He stuttered, clearly bothered by the question. The answer? Yes, he was afraid. The last thing he wanted to do was something he knew he shouldn’t - couldn’t do. 

Fanyasule turned his head to the Vala, immediately stopping the strange whirling motions he was doing with his hand, a small cloud fading off into the air. 

“Ah, I was... sort of trying to make a whirl.. thing. Like Osse’s whirlpools he makes in the oceans, but with air. It worked for a moment! ... But I lost it.” He spoke enthusiastically, only to give a small huff when he was done speaking.

{ oh dear lord }

‘I swear he never takes that crown off - He’s obsessed with those.. jewels. I think the crown is so heavy, it’s weighed down his IQ.’

‘If he doesn’t stop torturing these elves while I’m trying to sleep, I swear I’m going to knock him out with his own damned hammer and drag him out myself. Can’t he adopt a normal sleeping schedule, or is he too good for one?’

‘You know, I’d like to not have missions in the shittiest weather for once. Why don’t you leave your fortress for once? Or will your ass miss your throne seat too much?’