She wishes sometimes that her light could heal hearts as well as bodies. 

She waits. 

All right. The bare-bones version of what happened in Arda isn't complicated. If he is, in fact, still Melkor's prisoner, it's not like describing the two-sentence version of what happened will give them any new information. And in the scenario where this is real, it's...at the very least relevant context for Lucy to make sense of him, and also explaining much about Arda's magic or the interactions between the two worlds requires mentioning it. 

Fine. He can do the mental motion that's a little like imagining he's reading a very dry neutral battle report or history treatise, about events that happened very far away and that he doesn't care about. (Melody makes such faces when he does this, but it's not like she's ever had a better idea for what he should do instead.) 

:There was a war. In Arda. After I arrived. I - fought with the local - not mortals, they come back when they die, but otherwise similar...: 

"Coming back when you die is good." 

The impermanence of death in the Neath. 

:Yes. Good: 

A pause. 

:They were fighting an evil god: 

Another, longer pause. This is the hardest part and Leareth is pretty sure that he's never, in fact, had to explain it in actual words to someone else. It's very unfair. 

:I was captured. I was a prisoner for - for five subjective years. It was........bad: 

"Oh, shit."

Extreme profanity.

Leareth doesn't say anything. 

"...We have some evil gods also. I've dealt with the Thief-of-Faces, but I don't have a solution for Mr. Eaten yet, or Storm, or the Vake."

The terrible consequences to a loved one of the intervention of evil gods. The hatred of a state of the world where one cannot yet simply make people cut it out. 

:They - my allies - won. In Arda. Defeated the evil god. I was rescued. They...blocked my magic. Not - safe - could not trust me... The evil god - can give prisoners arbitrary hallucinations. He - tried to - I...:

At this point Leareth is not really aware of his surroundings anymore. 

She has drawn her knees up and her face is buried in them. Her hands are trembling with anger. 

When she has control of herself, she says, 

The heartfelt, bone-deep belief, permeating every cell of one's body and every wisp of one's soul, that everyone, no matter their place on the great chain or in society, ought to exist with happiness and self-determination.

In her language that's a single word? 

The realization steadies him enough that he can slightly think again. 

:Tried to trick me. I - did magic for him. Against my allies. When I - realized that...: 

There aren't, really, any words that describe it. 

Leareth just pushes across the vague tangle of thought, in its entirety. 

- he is nothing and no one - not safe to care - not safe to try - in the hands of a power that will twist his skill and effort to its own purposes and there is no longer any way out - 

RAGE at wrongs done that fundamentally and utterly SHOULD NOT BE. 

(- what even IS this language, how is that ALSO its own single word -) 

On some level Leareth notes that, while on another level his stupid instincts are calling for PANIC because someone is ANGRY and definitely (according to his emotions) every time this has ever happened in the history of the universe they were angry with him personally this is SO STUPID...

His pulse is racing again and he thinks he might be crying again but it's hard to even tell; either way his chest is clenching so tightly that he can't, really, manage to breathe - or at least it feels like he's suffocating, but as Maitimo used to point out, he has never, yet, managed to die from having a panic attack. 

Focus. 

:Want to help you. But. Not useful. Because. That: 

Okay there, now he's DONE, he's said all the important things and he can STOP. 

She slides to the floor, approaching him on her knees to be less intimidating. 

"My older sister grew up in the grasp of an evil god," she says quietly. "She's not okay. She's never been okay. But she will be someday. And you're human. Humans get better faster."

A child taken at birth. Great suffering. Great destruction wrought upon the perpetrator. Lingering trauma. Slow healing. 

All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well. 

:Oh: An intense wave of empathy, shared grief, but - less lonely, for sharing it. 

Leareth is having a stupidly hard time Mindspeaking when his body is still yelling loudly at him that he can't get enough air, even though this shouldn't actually be related. 

:It was a year ago: he forces out. :I - was getting better - just - unfamiliar place - dangerous - no one I trust -: 

:- want to trust you. But. Scared: 

"I don't expect you to trust me," she says immediately. "--I mean, it would be nice. But I'm not expecting it. I won't be disappointed if it doesn't happen at all, let alone on a schedule."

The understanding that the world is a dangerous place full of people who will betray you and figuring out who those people are is difficult.

:Thank you:

Being physically embodied is so stupid sometimes. Leareth's head is pounding and his chest hurts. 

After a long pause, :- I am probably not actually dying, it was never the case before, but I feel - very bad - it would be reassuring if you had a way to check: He says this remarkably calmly. 

"Well, not check, exactly, but..." 

She glows at him, the light that regenerated the skeletons. 

"If you were dying, then you aren't now." 

The substitution of a hopefully acceptable alternative. 

Leareth feels better. Not calmer, exactly, but...a lot more rested, less like the insides of him are drained empty, and the headache isn't as bad and his stomach isn't upset anymore. 

:Thank you. ...Need a few minutes. Sorry: He can get the rest of the way to calm on his own, but it's going to take a while. 

"Sure. Should I step out?"

The importance of privacy. 

Leareth thinks about this. 

:No. Can you - please - stay. And sing again: 

"Sure." 

She starts singing. The same Correspondence-voice as in the dream, although the song itself is different; this one is about traveling between stars in the High Wilderness. 

Leareth puts his forehead down on his knees and listens. Tries to breathe slow and controlled, in time with the song-phrases. 

It takes about five minutes before he feels collected enough to sit up. Now what - it feels like he's forgetting something - hmm, what would Maitimo say if he were here... 

:I think I ought eat and drink again: he tells Lucy. :Also I am very bad at remembering that I need to do that regularly: 

She nods, and rises, and leaves to fetch more food and drink. 

Leareth waits, trying to put the rest of his thoughts in order.