He relaxes a little over the talk. 

Good. She does like living in Doriath, if she can have her Mygwainor with her.

"Will you want a larger suite here?" he asks Luthien after a bit.

"I think so, yes."

"It'd be rather nice. Thank you."

He nods. "I will see it done."

"Thank you, Father."

There isn't much left to discuss, after that, and the conversation wraps up soon enough, and Thingol dismisses them.

Back to her rooms! With her wife!

The return to an actual bed is rather nice. Camping's fun, but, well.

It's also nice to luxuriate in luxury.

And in her wife's presence. Minus rocks in inconvenient places, plus warm water.

Don't forget the soap.

Most wonderful, excellent soap. Mygwainor has missed it so.

Mmm perhaps Luthien had better help her with it, to make sure she remembers how to use it...

That seems downright necessary.

Good.

She loves her wife.

After: "We're hoping to take this loop as far as possible still, right?"

"It seems like it's working out so far."

"It is... So - I think it's the four hundred and sixty-sixth year of the First Age, then..."

She frowns. "The normal timeline has me dying this year - after our arrival in Doriath, falling to a werewolf who makes it through the border... I'm not sure if we can push that back - we might have to try it, if the timeline keeps collapsing. After that..."

"Beren and Luthien - the ones who aren't us - usually have a son in four years. I'd. Rather not."

"All right."

She thinks.

"...There's. Something that happens in three years, if we get that far - and I'd like to get to the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, which is after - "

"There's something I want to prevent. It matters nothing to the timeline, but - "

She pauses.

Luthien takes her hands. "You deserve to be able to do things you want to. Whatever help I can give, you have it."

She smiles, squeezing Luthien's hand.

"In three years, a plague sweeps through the area to the north and west. It doesn't reach most of the elves, but - it's tough on the Mannish communities, and - "

Her gaze goes distant. Melancholy.

"...My zeroth life. I was a mortal named Turin, daughter of Hurin. I - "

"The person in that role's already been born. Two years ago, now."

"But right now - my younger sister would've been born this spring. That - shouldn't have changed."

"She dies in the plague. Always, unless I change it - her survival doesn't really impact the timeline as long as Turin doesn't know she's alive before the - the end of that arc. Which never lasts long, anyways, so it's easy enough to send my Lalaith - away. Out of Beleriand. To live just. Somewhere a bit more peaceful."

"I always save her when the timeline gets that far. It feels - silly. The timeline will reset, and she won't remember, and she dies anyways if the timeline lasts long enough, but - "

"I failed her and my whole family once. The others are harder, but... A three year old is easy enough to spirit away. And the timeline seems to think she's only a footnote in Turin's life."