Celegorm opens a door and finds himself looking, not into a guest room, but into a bar.
It is not plausible that someone turned this room into a bar, both because it's not a very Noldorin bar and because the room is too big; he built this fortress, he would know.
And, Huan says, it's very powerful magic and it smells of somewhere very far away.
Noted.
He walks in. Worrying about the Doom would be overthinking it. He hopes.
"And politics are terrible. Really. Anyway, Illia's going to be a queen and like half my extended family calls themselves Kings, I guess we don't get very excited by it anymore."
"I'm mostly not reading you but emotions are harder I won't ask what the feelings are about if you don't want."
"The King was supposed to be my brother who has worked for it his whole life and would be stunningly good at it and he had to give it away because otherwise some people wouldn't try their hardest against the Enemy and the Enemy was more important but it was really hard and still is really hard to be the faithful subjects of idiots who don't deserve it."
Hug. This is theoretically slightly precarious since she's still being held up by her alt, but she was standing so close it's not really hard for her lower and upper halves to be supported by different people.
What an adorably domestic picture we make. Anyone who walked in right now would probably assume we were her parents.
She shows him images of some of them. They age slower than humans but closer to humans than elves, and they have ear shapes that are somewhere in between the two, and they generally have elven slit pupils but in their mothers' eye colors.
Not necessarily! I mean, I'm not assuming she'll be an only child forever.
Seven might be a bit much. But I can't imagine being an only child not being desperately lonely.
I want to say, like, four or five, but I'm not the one stuck having them, so I suppose it's your call, dear.