He sings her the rest of the way to sleep. It bothers him, that these people don't have names, but he does not say that.

She sleeps, restlessly. Near morning, she whimpers a little.

He startles awake instantly but doesn't say anything.

She's still asleep. She whimpers again and shifts position.

He waits, utterly still.

Her breathing quickens and she whines, and then she starts talking in her sleep, repeating the same few words. After another few seconds, she jerks awake in mid-sentence and rolls over to stare at the ceiling.

You okay?

Will be. She doesn't move.

Bad dream?

Yup. Deep breath. Did I wake you?

Nah, I just seem to sleep odd hours while healing. Anything I should do if it happens again?

She pauses just a little too long, and her breath hitches before she answers. Wake me up, I suppose.

Okay. Do you want to talk about it?

...I'm not really sure I can. Not that I don't want to... though I kind of don't... but I don't know how. She sighs. It's, I guess... how far can I go from how kobolds live, how many taboo things can I do anyway, how much more than a kobold can I be, and still call myself one? And how much do I care about that, and how much should I. That mattered a lot to me, once. And I'm not sure I could go back, now, and it scares me.

What do you think being a kobold means?

That's part of what I don't think I can explain.

I've never been a very good one, anyway. Even before.

I'm not sure what it'd mean not to be a very good Quendi.  Not a very happy one, or not a very talented one, sure. But those wouldn't make you less of one.

Mm.

I don't really want to talk about that? It's not - it's - there's a real disagreement, there, about how people should be. And I don't want you to think poorly of my friends, even if you disagree with them about it.

I know lots of people who think there's a way Elves should be. I think mostly they hurt themselves.

Mm.

She still hasn't moved.

Well, he's not going to move.

She lays there for another few minutes and then rolls over - away from him - and gets up to go make some eggs.

Well, getting her to agree that being a good kobold is a horribly hurtful objective for kobolds is not strictly necessary for anything, no matter how certain he now is that it's true.

See, she knew she couldn't explain it very well.

Anyway, there are eggs, and she peels some and brings them to the Fëanorean castle.

Oh, he understands why she'd feel the way she does about it. Understanding does not always get you to agreement. He closes his eyes and goes back to sleep.