"And room for any... Ill-advised gifts."

(Like the dinosaur Orome got them as a wedding gift that one loop.)

"I sincerely hope a dinosaur won't be a problem I have to solve again."

"She was an excellent gate guard, though."

"Eventually. After much trial."

"She never bit anyone important."

"I think you got nipped a time or two, dearheart." She nibbles Mygwainor's ear.

Giggle! "But, my Ellin, I like being bit," she whispers, tone conspiratorial. 

"But you are important, sweet Mygwainor."

"True..." 

"Suppose I should say she never harmed anyone important."

Kiss. "That would be a more accurate wording."

Very kiss! "A little teeth will never hurt me, after all..."

Gigglekiss.

"You know we're not alone, Mygwainor..."

"There's no one in sight..." 

There's some tables in their line of sight, but the only one that'd had people had been heading out as they were heading in. 

"I know you that's not the same thing."

"Not into the idea that anyone could round that corner?"

"Anyone is quite a lot of people. Some things are just for you and I."

"Fair enough, my Ellin." Kiss!

It is about at this point a new couple rounds the corner to enter the view of Luthien and Mygwainor. One is a tall woman, pale-skinned and dark hair, wearing simple black robes.

"It appears this alcove is already claimed, dear Bella," she says to her companion.

"Awww, but none of the others look cozy..." she whines, playfully. 

She's pale too, though not nearly as much as her companion, with blonde hair and a set of cat ears and a tail, all in black silky fur. She doesn't have a stitch of real clothing on her, just an odd holster on one thigh - and there's an intricate tattoo visible on the other thigh, the main design a snake circling a housecat and a tiger. There's another complicated tattoo around her lips, an X of tiny symbols clustered like chain links. 

Mygwainor freezes, her gaze fixed on the first woman's face. 

Luthien turns to look.

She doesn't recognize either of them.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Bella," she says. "Your girlfriend got a problem with pretty women?"

"Not usually."

"...Sorry," she croaks. Then, to her wife, over osanwe, 'She looks like - Sauron. My Sauron. My Elrien.'

"Uh huh."