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lay of leithian, or, why decima is no longer allowed to propose thread ideas while manic
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Kiss!

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Kiss! Is good!

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She giggles.

"Do you want to wait until I've chucked a Silmaril at your father to get actually married?" she asks.

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Hum.

"I want to do it right. Show him how wrong he is."

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"Understandable." She squeezes Luthien's hand. "Main reasons I even want to bring a Silmaril back instead of suggesting eloping are spite and keeping your options open..."

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"And I might ever want to see people in Doriath again."

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"Yes! Options open. Wander where you may."

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That deserves another kiss.

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Kisses are the most excellent thing about being engaged.

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They're certainly up there.

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All the other excellent bits could be gotten from friendship, probably, so kisses stand out as part of engagement.

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That's a fair point.

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Demonstrative kiss.

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Heee.

(Kiss.)

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"We have about a day to the edge I think? Seems unlikely we'll get caught."

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She looks around.

"Seems about right, yeah."

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Smile. "Doing well so far."

And onward?

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Onward.

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They cross the boundary the next day, slipping around the guards -

And past Doriath's border, a small stream, a strange look passes over Beren's face. Surprise, at least. Maybe more.

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"Something the matter?"

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Something seems to be very the matter.

"...I remembered something." She pauses, looking like she's struggling, and: "I'll tell you once we're well away from the border, alright?"

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"Did my mother tell you something?"

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"No."

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"...All right."

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"...Come on. Let's get - to somewhere to rest for the night, at least."

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