Well, he can only get so far with the kobold holding his hand, unless she climbs with him. Which she does.

Oh good. He is going to have the best vantage point. He'll stop climbing so he isn't distracted or divided in attention. 

Kobolds are not nearly as inclined to be tree creatures as Quendi, but she's not too bad at this kind of thing; she finds a spot to hold onto that won't wear her fingers or toes out too fast.

Is her Quenya good enough to catch what they're debating?

Bits and pieces. It seems to be which of two pronunciations is prettier. 

What a thoroughly Quendi topic. She starts memorizing the crowd so she can draw it accurately later.

Fëanáro is going to happily sit here past Mingling. 

The kobold keeps an eye on Alamande as it starts to get late, surreptitiously; she can push herself to stay up for a while, and this seems like a situation that warrants it, but if he seems to want to go, well, she is trying to stay on Finwë's good side.

He's content to watch Fëanáro cling to the architecture.

The kobold waits through Mingling, closing her eyes through the worst of it. A few hours later, she tells Fëanáro, I'm going to need a nap tomorrow afternoon if we don't go back soon. I don't mind but I don't know if you will.

Fëanáro, let's go back; it's not respectful to your friend and you're friend's been very very kind to you.

Fëanáro pouts. 

You can come here again tomorrow, Alamande says.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Okay.

We can definitely come back tomorrow, we still need to ask them about those new words I want.

She climbs down with Fëanáro, hugs him, and then offers Alamande her free hand.

He takes it. 

Fëanáro's clinging a little. 

She pops them to outside the throne room, bows to Alamande insofar as the clinging allows, and then pops herself and Fëanáro to his room.

You okay?

I want to go back. That was amazing. I want to live there.

She giggles. Yeah, I saw how happy you were. I don't think they have beds, though, and I do need to sleep. We can go back in the morning, I don't have any plans.

Okay.

He is stubbornly refusing to yawn but will fall asleep very fast himself. 

She's awake before he is, as usual, but now she can cast spells while she's snuggled up to him; this is a much nicer state of affairs. She tries drawing by teleporting ink to a sheet of paper; she's predictably awful at it, especially since she has to use the mage-sense to see anything about what she's doing, but practices patiently until Fëanáro wakes.

Not too much later! He rolls out of bed immediately and says let's go back right now. 

She eeps, just a little too loudly, and opens her eyes. We should get food to bring with us, you're not going to want to stop to go eat, and we have to tell your parent. And then, yes, we can go right back. And then she gets out of the bed and hugs him and offers her hand.

Why do we have to tell him he said yes yesterday and maybe he'd say no today. 

They've been saying yes because they trust me, at least a little, and I told them I'd tell them when we were going out and where we were going if I knew, and if I don't do that they won't trust me any more and they will start saying no. And anyway, I didn't say I'd ask permission, I just said I'd tell them; if they try to say no I bet I can talk them around to at least letting us go today, unless they have some actual reason for it.

He might want me here so he can play with me or something. 

Do they do that often? We might want to make time for it if it means you can know when you'll be able to go do things.

I think whenever he's feeling guilty about not being a good father. So it's unpredictable. 

Ah. Well in that case I think the worst that will happen is they might come with us.