"Okay." Kib writes down what she said. "Any potentially useful details...?"
Write write. "And it comes with the information that it's Fëanáro's fault but not how at all?"
And apparently she's not the sort to just march up to him and stab him over a prophetic dream, good to know. "Arguing with who, about what...?"
"...Don't have more details or don't want me to have them? Second thing is fine but if it's that and I hear another prophecy that maybe links up with this one if I can come back to you with that -"
"It might or might not, but it seems like these are deliberately patchy in such a way that small bits could turn out to be important to anyone who didn't happen to get those exact bits."
"Artanis-"
"You can talk me down tomorrow I am going to kill him I am going to kill him-" and she breaks down sobbing, and there's a hand on her arm -
"We need them."
"Fuck that."
"They already -"
"How are you okay? Why are you okay with this? Do you even give a -"
"I am not okay I am terrified you need to stop saying things like that."
"Oh."
And then, over osanwë. He is going to do it again.
Are you sure?
As sure as I knew he'd do this. And if you'd trusted me -
Kib writes very fast. His handwriting is unElvishly scratchy. "Thank you."
Sigh. No obvious connection between any of the bits yet, but he organizes the notes into something more indexed and goes back to work.
Well, with the grace ring a three mile hike is not such an imposition. He likes his grace ring. At some point I still want to give you a hug, he informs Maitimo.
Waiting, mostly. Artanis bounced me a dream but it's not useful in isolation. Hug. He is not as strong as an Elf but he can try.
No, it's about something else, earlier I think, you don't feature. She didn't mention you, either.