"You would have us bow to his demands?" Elgar'nan spits, his beautiful face contorted by fury.

"Not bow," Mythal replies, ever calm. "But we must bring him back to the fold if we wish to restore peace."

"I would rather a durgen'len," Elgar'nan growls.

"High praise to our siblings of stone, dear one. We could use a more steadfast mindset to win this war."

"So you admit it is a war!" Elgar'nan snatches his small victory with gusto.

Mythal sighs. "It is a war of attrition, my sun, and not one we will win by throwing slaves at him!"

"They are my loyal soldiers. They have warred against my enemies for lesser offences."

"Every elvhen you send against him is another possible soldier for him! We need to keep those loyal to us close in this time of need-"

"Your excuse for not leasing your vallaslined few against your old friend?" Elgar'nan lowered his gaze accusingly at Mythal.

Mythal tilted her head, giving him a glare. "I choose not to send my children against Solas not because he is my friend, but because such an act would be to turn them against us. And here I thought you wanted to deny Solas troops."

Elgar'nan makes a scathing noise. "Excuses as always, Mythal. You are too used to settling feuds with words. Solas will not be calmed by words."

"And sending the less powerful to throw themselves at his feet or on his sword will?"

Elgar'nan grabbed Mythal by her chin, forcing her to look up at him. His nails dug into her skin.

Mythal did not even wince.

"I will do what I feel is best. I am the Allfather, I lead us. If I decide to throw all of the lesser beings at Solas to bring him down, that is my decision."

"On your soul, be it."

There is a polite cough from the doorway.

Mythal makes no attempt to move out of Elgar'nan's grip. They have eternity, after all, to war while Elgar'nan's lackey waits.

"This is not done. We are not finished," Elgar'nan whispers to Mythal, his words like small, sharp daggers.

He releases her.

Mythal wipes the blood from the scratches in her cheeks into her mouth, licking her lips carefully to catch every bit. "We never are, my sun."

She turns to leave, nods at Elgar'nan's girl (taking note of the vine-like vallaslin that wrapped around her naked body), and leaves.

She bows to Mythal as she passes, but her eye does not leave the Evanuris, enough that her envy was obvious.

Though for her power or her connection to Elgar'nan, even the girl herself was not sure.

"Come closer, girl," Elgar'nan orders.

Nimueh does, and the awe in her face is clear.

Elgar'nan is pleased by this.

"Tell me, why did you chose my vallaslin, da'len?"

"I was betrayed," Nimueh says. She knows Elgar'nan knows this too, knows why she was chosen for this task.