"What kind of gift?"

He sits beside her, and pulls out a sheathed knife from his pack. It's long, enough to be a weapon, and the hilt and sheath are both a deep black. Both are decorated with swirling designs in gold and ruby, showing leaping flames and racing hounds.

"Oh, wow. It's gorgeous."

He smiles. "It was given to me in trust, and now I give it to you in turn. May it serve you well."

"Thank you." She reaches out to take it and admire the filigree designs.

"Um, who gave it to you?"

His smile fades, a little, into a wistful sorrow. "Your sister," he says, "When she was not much older than you."

"You mean... Lalaith? You knew her?"

"Yes. She liked my carvings," he says, wistfully, "And was always a helpful, kind child..."

"...Do you know where she went?"

"Yes," he says, "Though it isn't safe to speak of, even here."

"I want to know. I'm old enough."

He glances around. Then, quietly: "There are ears less kind than yours, and you must always assume they're listening."

"Then can we go somewhere safe?"

"There's nowhere safe enough," he says, "Not in the halls of Men."

Danallin furrows her brow. She doesn't understand the old man.

He pats her on the head, good-naturedly. "Practice every day with that knife," he advises her. "It will be the means by which you make your world safer."

Hrrrmmm.

"I can do that," she promises.

"Good."

Off she skips, then, clutching the dagger close to her chest.

...Her mother clearly recognizes it and just as clearly decides not to say anything. Danallin does, however, soon find herself scheduled for knife fighting lessons in even stricter secrecy than she's used to living, and stern warnings about never showing her blade outside her mother's hall.

Conveniently, that's just what she wants. (She's going to get so good at knife fighting and then she's going to go find her sister.)

(Her mother, oddly, seems very motivated to not go find her sister - especially as the world outside grows ever more dangerous, and the food being smuggled into their holdings trickles off, and their well dries, and their own paltry crops struggle and fail under ashfall after ashfall, early frost and unseasonal heat...)

Fine, then. If her mother isn't going to take action- Danallin will. She gathers supplies, her knife, and sets out.

If the halls of Men aren't safe, then she'll try the halls of the Elves.

She's going to need to avoid... Pretty much all Men on her way, at least ones who live near her mother's halls, and she's also not entirely sure where the halls of the Elves are. Doriath is probably the biggest and is 'somewhere south,' at least? 

That's a direction, at least. If it's big enough, maybe she'll just run into it. Or someone who can point the way, when she gets closer. Danallin's always considered herself to be a reasonably lucky person that way.

...She notices she's being followed, by the end of her first day (when she's starting to realize she doesn't know how to do this 'camp' thing or this 'travel' thing what with having been never allowed to leave her mother's halls before).

Well, that's what she's got this shiny knife for. She will hop up into a tree and wait for the pursuer to show themself.

...Seems to be Sador. He's weirdly quiet on those crutches, actually. 

Oh. She hops back down.

"What are you doing here?"

He stops and leans on one crutch. "It isn't safe for you to travel alone like this," is all he says. 

"D'you want to come with me?"

Smile. "Yes. These old bones won't be much use in a fight - but I know these woods, and I can help you find your way."

"Great! That'd be really helpful, thanks."

Another smile. Then: "Come, child. Let's make camp."

Hopefully Sador has a better idea of how to do this than Danallin.

Significantly so! He can't really do much about it being cold and damp, nor about a fire being unwise, but he can find them a dry, sheltered nook, and he can make a small bed for Danallin, and he can identify which plants can be eaten raw and where the water is drinkable. 

Hmmm yep this is going to be a lot better than traveling alone.

He's slower at traveling than her, but, his knowledge is probably saving her time anyways.

And... Does he know the way to Doriath?

...As much as any Man does - but Doriath is veiled, and none may find it except by leave of its Queen.

It's the best lead on Lalaith she has, so. That's where she's headed. She can deal with problems getting there as they arise.

She's like her sister in that, then. 

Really?

Yes - Lalaith was always one to think on her feet, for better or for worse. 

Mostly for the better, Danallin bets. Her sister is great.

That gets her a chuckle - "She wasn't always wise as a child."

"Do you have stories?"

Many, actually - Lalaith was a gregarious, joyous child before the plague that stole her older brother, and even after that she seemed to crave adventure and people to talk to, stories of other times, and she grew attached to Sador - he suspects because he answered her questions. (It was safer to, in those days.)

Danallin enjoys the stories a lot!!

He has enough to stretch over quite a long journey, especially if Danallin doesn't mind repeats...

Not at all.

Good!

The rest of their journey, however, is... Not so good. It's long, for one, and the weather quickly turns against them, and Danallin has never walked this far in her life - her feet give out before her legs, numerous blisters arising and then popping and then turning into a trickle of blood that scabs and sticks relentlessly to her socks, even when she tries bandages... And her supplies run out even with Sador's extras, even with his food supplementing, and forage and hunting are both thin on the ground.

It's dangerous, too, dangerous and lonely - Sador makes her hide whenever he senses people, or take the long way around (which is very inconvenient with how often the roads encounter minor settlements). So far, they haven't gotten in a fight. He seems to think that's only because they're avoiding chances.

This... kinda really really sucks, actually.

But she won't give up.

She's also never been away from people this long, and Sador doesn't really lose his vigilance or determination even as a biting cold they're totally unequipped for settles in a few months into their journey, with a threat of heavy snow in the grey low-lying clouds and the moaning wind. 

...Maybe they could stop for a while at a settlement? With people? And real houses?

- It's not safe. 

It's not really safe to stay outside in the elements and freeze either.

He is so clearly torn about this (he's struggled more with the weather than she has).

Maybe they should go ahead and do it, then. She still has her knife.

...Perhaps a smaller settlement...

Yessss warm fire time!

The small settlement is effectively a single large homestead, a man and his wife and their extended family and a few miscellaneous unrelated people. The wife meets them at the door, and looks at them with unsure eyes in a gaunt face. "We have little food to spare," she warns them, "But a place by the fire we can provide, and a place to sleep out of the wind."

"That'll be enough for us," Danallin says.

"We have little to repay you," Sador says, "Though I am skilled with woodworking, and my companion is young and healthy." (Danallin does, in fact, still look significantly better fed than anyone here.)

The woman hesitates, then: "For some work, and for some trinkets we could sell at market - we could spare some food for that."

Nod nod. That sounds like a fair deal.

They're let inside, and given a place by the hearth, with introductions occurring as people trickle through the main hall. (Danallin has been advised to use a false name, and Sador helped her pick one out.) The matron of the house provides Sador with something to carve and instructions on what she wants, and quizzes Danallin on her skills - cooking, cleaning, spinning, weaving, yarn-work, planting, gathering, trapping, skinning, others...?

Her hearthside skills are stronger than her outdoor skills. She can cook and spin and sew.

She's given sewing to do while she warms up and while the light's still good, and spinning after the wan light outside fades.

They're allowed to stay at the homestead until the cold snap breaks, and as the chill fades from the world and the ancient grandmother judges that they'll have at least a few days of tolerable winter, the matron comes to Danallin and Sador and offers them a place on the homestead. "Your work is good," she says as explanation (she'd quickly started channeling Danallin towards embroidery, clearly with an eye to sell, and Danallin's overheard conversations about perhaps buying a better plow come spring, or a young dairy cow of good breeding, or a wealth of seeds). "And you're pleasant company besides."

"You've been really generous, and we're thankful. But we have to move on."

"I understand," she says. "May your road be safe."

And then they're off again.

Their journey is less kind, after that, though Sador relaxes on the avoiding people thing some - still, the winter continues with rolling cold snaps, and very few people offer to share food, though they can at least usually trade for a bed. In the barn, if nowhere else. And the few times they approach somewhere large enough to have even a small market, they can trade their crafts for food or supplies. Traveling near people worsens their chances of traveling near unpleasant people, too.

Danallin needs to use her knife before the winter snows melt. 

She doesn't break down until after, at least.

Sador is... Not very good at this emotional comfort thing. 

Yeah.

She'll figure it out. No worries.

He'll give her space if she needs, or a listening ear. 

Maybe... distraction? More stories?

That he can do. Stories of her sister? 

Yeah.

He'll return to her favorites, and try to dredge up new details. 

It does help, some.

Good. 

So, more travel?

More travel! He thinks they're getting close, at least, and they're starting to hear rumors of wood elves. 

Rumors of elves are cool. Actual elves would be better. Danallin'spretty sure they won't be able to resist her charms once they actually meet her. (And. Well. She still has her knife. If it's needed.)

- Sador thinks it's pretty unlikely they'll have to fight elves, but. These are paranoid times. (He, like many of their people, has a near-worshipful opinion of the elves. The people who live near Doriath do not.)

Better to be prepared, right?

...Perhaps. Though sometimes preparing for an eventuality brings it closer. 

She's not going to carry the blade bare or anything. She's just, y'know, gonna have it.

Her expectations will influence her attitude, however. 

She'll try to keep an open mind.

All she can do, probably. 

Onwards? 

Onwards.

They eventually come to a weird section of woods, where they quickly get even more lost than normal. Also Danallin feels kind of like she's being watched, though Sador doesn't seem to have noticed it. 

She starts looking around a lot more than usual. She almost wants to call out, but that would be silly, right?

She catches a glimpse of a humanoid form, green-grey cloak wrapped tight and obscuring their face, in the branches high above her. 

"-Who's there?"

"You have keen eyes, child of Man," a soft lyrical voice echoes from above, making Sador tense.

"You're an Elf," she says, surprised.

"And a keen mind. Tell me, what is your business in these woods?"

"I'm looking for my sister. Lalaith."

"And who are you?"

"My name's Danallin."

"Danallin, sister of Lalaith."

"She hasn't mentioned you to me."

!!!

"You know her?! Where is she? She's older than me, she left before I was born, after our brother died-"

Laughter - and a tall, willowy, beautiful elven woman drops from the trees to land in front of Danallin. She's dressed simply, in lightweight armor the same dull brown as the tree trunks, with a dusty green cloak, and an assortment of weapons at her waist and back. 

"Last I saw her, she was returning to Menegroth," she says. 

Yeah, Danallin's just gonna need a second to scoop her brain up off the ground.

"-Can you show us the way there?"

"Depends on the permission of the Queen."

"How can I ask her?"

"She will evaluate you as you approach the border."

"And that's... which way?"

"After me."

Following the Elf lady! Okay, she can do that.

"So, um, what' your name?"

"Ennil," she says, "Marchwarden of Doriath."

"It's good to meet you, Ennil."

"And you as well, Danallin."

She smiles.

"Do you have any stories about Lalaith?"

"Years' worth. We've been good friends nearly since her arrival."

Wigglewigglebounce!

"Can you tell me about her?"

"Absolutely."

Danallin is very excited for new stories! Especially new ones, she wants to know all about what kind of person her sister has grown into.

A kind one, by Ennil's tales. Cold at times, and intense, but caring and protective of even strangers. 

Wigglewiggle.

A good person, she knew it.

"She is, one of the best I know."

"Though it's... kind of surprising. Most Men think Elves hate us all."

"Some elves do. But I never have, and... Things have been changing lately."

"Changing how?"

"For the better, I'd say - the King's daughter wed a mortal, and while that was... Rough, at first, the situation has settled and they're happy here."

"And the King took your sister as his ward when she arrived, and told us to treat her as his daughter as well."

"I'm glad she found people like that." Even if Danallin feels a bit weird about being replaced by elves.

"It wasn't as a replacement," she says, softly. "Especially not for you."

"Yeah..."

Quietly: "She never knew me, before she left..."

"She'll want to get to know you. Luthien has been gracious as an older sister - but it's not the same as having a baby sister."

"I suppose not."

"And you're a delightful girl."

"I'm surprised you can already tell."

"It's easy to notice."

"I guess subtlety isn't my strong suit."

"I would more say that your forthright nature is a virtue."

Giggle.

"That's a nice way of putting it."

"Fitting for a nice girl."

Gosh it sure sounds like the beautiful Elf is flirting with her, but that would be silly because she's a gorgeous Elf and Danallin's just Danillin and they only just met and anyway is it hot in here or-

Smirk.

Oh noooooo she knows.

She absolutely knows. 

Here's hoping Danallin doesn't die of embarrassment before they get to Doriath, then.

It might be close.

Maybe she can distract her wondrously pretty guide by asking questions about her? Danallin wants to know everything.

And where does she want to start with knowing Ennil?

Has she always lived in Doriath?

"Yes - I was born in Menegroth."

"What's it like there? I heard it's underground. I've never lived underground."

She laughs. "You likely won't feel underground there - the halls are carved to look like a stone forest, and lit by soft glowing lamps..."

"Oooh."

She can spend a good long while painting a picture with her words for Danallin, of the gemstone murals and the birds who flit about, of the little hidden glades where sunlight can filter in...

Yep, good distraction.

And a good way to pass the long journey. (They pass through the Girdle without any issue, and the forest beyond it feels... Fresher, almost. Not younger, but eternal, unbowed by the weight of years.)

Feels like the sort of forest one should frolic in, really.

An interesting proposal. 

Is Ennil a frolicker?

She hasn't been before. 

That's a pity. Frolicking might suit her.

If Danallin says so, it must be true.

Her faith is touching.

She's a good judge of character. 

Must be a useful talent in her border guard-type activities.

Very much so. 

Not so much for frolicking, though, except maybe in choice of frolic partner.

Choice of partner seems an essential part. 

One can get pretty far on their own, actually.

Though Ennil has never been particularly tempted alone.

Well, now that Danallin's planted the seed, maybe that will change.

Or perhaps she'll pine for Danallin to join her.

All she has to do is ask.

Then show her how to frollick. (It's more a command than a request.)

Well, okay...

First you gotta get loose, shake things out and make sure you're all flexible. Then breathe in the natural beauty, hold it, and let it out as a little tune (you can hum or sing or whistle as you prefer). Follow the song with light steps, skip through the brush, do a little twirl when you see a pretty flower, swing from a sturdy branch...

A tough skill. 

It's important not to force it. If she's having trouble, she can try starting small and building up.

Perhaps with crafting a flower crown and singing?

That's perfect!

Off to a good start, then. 

Sure seems like it.

And a good start makes for a light journey. 

That it does.

Menegroth is more abuzz than normal when they arrive - though people fall suspiciously and awkwardly silent when they catch sight of Ennil.

"What's going on?"

"I'm unsure..." Is there anyone she can grab to ask questions...

The princess, perhaps, if she's feeling bold.

She's a bold person - and her best friend is the other princess. So, she steps up to Luthien, calling her name softly, and asks, "What's going on?"

"There is to be a trial. Lalaith stands accused of murder."

-What?

"Of who?!"

"Saeros, my father's councilor."

"What happened?" Did Saeros start it.

"I am as yet unsure. At the end of the incident, Lalaith had apparently stripped Saeros and was pursuing him through the forest, where he ran into a ravine and broke his neck."

"Did anyone see the entire thing?"

"Not that has come forward yet."

"What of the maiden Nellas, the one who used to follow Lalaith everywhere?"

"She has not been found. Nor has Lalaith herself, for that matter."

"Nellas is shy," she says, "But perhaps I can track her. Lalaith... That will be harder, and she will not wish to stand trial before the King."

"It would be the swiftest route to a happy resolution."

"I do not know if Lalaith believes she will have a happy resolution..."

"Why wouldn't she?"

"She rarely relies on anyone except herself."

"Oh." That's... sad.

"Perhaps you can help me change that, though."

"Once we find her."

"We will."

"That would certainly be a help."

"We should find Nellas first, however. Tracking Lalaith can be... Very slow. She's good at evading pursuit."

"I shall leave it to your discretion, Ennil. Do keep me informed."

"I will. And - if you can, please delay proceedings, at least until we find Nellas."

"I can manage that much."

"Thank you, Princess."

"Thank you, Ennil. You have my support for anything you need to do."

"I won't let you down."

So they should get going then, right?

The princess Elf is pretty and all but Danallin has PRIORITIES.

Yes - there will be time later for introductions and connecting. 

How do they hunt down this Nellas?

She's a young maid, who never comes to Doriath and rarely comes near. She loved Lalaith, though, as they were of a seeming-age when Lalaith came to Doriath. Danallin is of course older than that, but... She has a youthful energy, one Ennil hopes will put Nellas at ease...

So she's to be bait.

A tempting lure.

That's a pretty predatory smirk Ennil's got going on...

Suitable for a hunter. 

Guess so!!

Though Nellas isn't her quarry.

Huh?

"It'd be rude to hunt a friend whose help we need. And she's a bit young for me, besides."

Squint.

"Oh, you mean in a sex way?"

She laughs. (It's possibly a good thing that they offloaded an exhausted and achy Sador on some servants who can get him settled.)

Giggle. Probably, yeah.

"We'll certainly hunt for Lalaith, though."

"Not sure how I should feel about that..."

"How do you feel?"

Pensive wiggle.

"I... don't know. I've heard about Lalaith since forever and I want to meet her more than anything, but. Dunno."

Fond smile. "You don't have to finish the hunt with me - unless you want to."

"I'll think about it, I guess."

In the meantime, though... They need to find Nellas.

Should she frolic about it?

Should help. 

Then off she goes!

It takes a bit, but... Eventually she senses someone following her. 

She tries not to give any indication that she's noticed until the person gets closer.

The person does in fact seem to be a young elven girl. She's very hard to notice, and also watching Danallin with possible fascination.

"Hello?"

...Awkward shuffle. The girl retreats a little.

Oh no she's shy.

"Oh, don't go, please."

"Who are you?"

"My name's Danallin."

"Are you a Man?"

"I am. A girl, more specifically."

"There haven't been many girls here."

"One more, now."

"You're an older girl, though... More like Lalaith than me."

"Did you know Lalaith?"

"Yes. Before she got big."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

She considers that for a few moments, before: "Yes."

"I'm Lalaith's sister."

"...Oh."

"I came here to find her. Can you tell me about her?"

"Why do you want to find her?"

"...She left before I was born. I want to meet her."

"She's in trouble right now."

"...I heard a bit about that."

"She shouldn't be."

"Do you know what really happened there?"

"...Yeah."

"Would you tell me?"

"...I can."

"It would help her, if people knew..."

"...I'm scared."

"It's a tough thing to do."

"I can help, if you want."

"You can?"

"You know, like moral support. And if you tell me what to say, I could talk to other people for you. I'm good at talking."

"You sound it. I'm not good at talking."

"It's not for everyone."

"...People seem to think it should be..."

"People think a lot of stuff. Not all of it is true."

"You can talk for me, then."

"Thanks."

"...Lalaith didn't start the fight."

"What happened?"

"Saeros tried to sneak up on her. He had his sword drawn. She was just - sitting there."

"That's evil."

"...Yeah."

"She didn't kill him, though. Just knocked him down and embarrassed him. She said - something about something he'd said about her mother."

"So she was just defending herself."

"Yeah."

"People definitely need to know that."

"Can you tell them?"

"Yeah. I will."

"Do you think you could come with me, in case there are more questions?"

"...Maybe."

"You don't have to talk to anyone but me if you don't want to."

"...That might be okay."

"Great!"

Back to Menegroth, then? 

Yeah. They've got evidence to introduce.

Thingol listens solemnly to the update, and asks a few clarifying questions, then settles back to think. 

Impatient wiggling is probably bad form right, these Elves are all dignified and regal and look like they've never wiggled a day in their life.

At last he turns to another elf, Mablung, saying: "It is strange to me that Lalaith said nothing of this to you."

"Yet she did not," says Mablung, "Or I should have recounted it. And otherwise should I have spoken to her at our parting."

'And otherwise shall my doom now be," says Thingol. "Hear me! Such fault as can be found in Lalaith I now pardon, holding her wronged and provoked. And since it was indeed, as she said, one of my council who so misused her, she shall not seek for this pardon, but I will send it to her, wherever she may be found; and I will recall her in honour to my halls."

But on hearing this, suddenly Nellas begins to weep, and cries out: "Where can she be found? She has left our land, and the world is wide."

"She shall be sought," says Thingol.

"If she lives, I will find her, no matter where she walks. This I swear, my liege."

"You give me hope for this quest, then, and for the deliverance of one I took as my daughter. Go with my good will, and if you find her, guard her and guide her as you may. Ennil Cuthalion, long have you been foremost in the defence of Doriath, and for many deeds of valour and wisdom have earned my thanks. Greatest of all I shall hold the finding of Lalaith. At this parting ask for any gift, and I will not deny it to you."

"A sword only, my liege, one of greatest worth, for our enemies will be too thick and close for a bow alone, and what blades I have will not suffice for the thickest armor."

"Choose from all that I have," says Thingol.

She bows. "Thank you, my liege."

Elves talk weird, sometimes.

But it sounds like this means Lalaith is okay? And now they can go find her and bring her back? Except that Ennil wants to get a sword first, which makes sense. (Danallin still has her knife.)

- Thingol dismisses his court, and asks who Danallin is. 

She's Danallin, daughter of Morwen. Uh. He's not her liege, right, she doesn't live in Doriath or anything... Your... majesty? Lalaith's sister.

"It grieves me that this is your introduction to Doriath, Danallin daughter of Morwen. But perhaps your coming is fortuitous - Lalaith might be willing to hear a message born by you."

"I hope so. What's the message?"

"That there is nothing to forgive nor pardon, and that she does and will always have a place in Doriath where she is needed. And that I and the Queen hold her in our hearts."

"I'll tell her."

"Thank you. You may also take any gift from us that you wish."

"Umm... Can I think about that one?"

"So long as it does not delay your mission."

"...Maybe I'll just ask afterwards."

"That would be acceptable, if it is your wish."

"Thank you, your majesty."

"You are most welcome, daughter of Morwen."

Does she bow at this point or like... what. She's very unclear on how interacting with royalty, uh, ends. Hopefully she can just copy whatever Ennil does.

Ennil is helpfully very clear and easy to copy in her etiquette; she bows and thanks the King as they're formally dismissed. 

Cool, okay, she can do that.

Then... armory? For her sword?

Then the armory. Ennil rarely comes here, so many of these blades will be unknown to her...

Then perhaps she will not have any preconceptions that stop her from noticing that one sword in particular seems to call to her. Of medium length, single-edged and slightly curved, the hilt of dark wood wrapped in white thread sized for either a single- or double-handed grip. An elaborate abstract inlay design wends its way up from the etched circular crossguard almost a quarter of the blade's length, the deep black tracery standing out starkly against the silvery metal.

...It's certainly beautiful...

Ennil takes the sword in hand, to test its weight. 

Perfectly balanced.

And a slight niggling in the back of her mind, a sleepily inquisitive brushing...

She reaches back. 

'...I don't think we've met before...'

Osanwe? That's difficult, especially to reach out to someone as cold and distant as Ennil has been told she is. (Her and Lalaith both can only be contacted by the Queen, and even then only rarely and when close by.) But something about this feels like it's slipping deftly through her walls, bridging those great divides.

That, or this sword is ridiculously powerful.

'We haven't,' she sends back. 'My name is Ennil.'

'Ennil.'

'I am Thalalan. Do you seek my strength for your cause?'

'Yes. I am tasked with delivering a message of pardon from my liege the King to his daughter, a good friend of mine who I wish to see well, and the world outside our borders is dangerous.'

'A worthy quest... and yours a worthy hand. I will assist.'

'I am honored.'

A hint of amusement. 'And wise, as well.'

'You have discerning taste.'

'Excellence is my standard.'

'I'll enjoy seeing you prove it.'

'You shall.'

It seems prudent to run through exercises together before sparring with another guard...

Her stance is solid, but there is room for improvement...

It seems she's lucked out, to find an excellent instructor as well as a fine blade.

Thalalan of course understands the best methods by which it may be employed.

And Ennil is an able learner.

A promising beginning to their partnership.

And allows them to get moving after Lalaith quickly. 

Time is of the essence.

And there's a lot of ground to cover.

Danallin thinks she's getting pretty good at this whole travel-through-the-wilderness thing by now.

She sets a much faster pace than Sador, though - and apparently expects Danallin to sleep in trees with her, not on the ground. They are, generally, not comfortable trees.

Her previous statement was the height of hubris, actually.

Danallin is... not great at sleeping in trees. Mostly the "staying in the tree while asleep" bit.

Ennil can give her a few lessons, and tie her on while she gets the hang of it. 

Uh. Sure. That helps.

She'll have to be very quiet while being tied up, though. Might be a challenge. 

Ennil seems resourceful, maybe she has a solution in mind...

If neither force of will nor practice suffice, she could simple gag Danallin...

What an... exciting thought.

(Wigglewigglewigglewigglewiggle.)

Wiggling is hardly going to help her stay in trees. 

Oh noooooooo.

Ennil might need to tie her a bit tighter. Just to make sure she's safe. 

Right. All in the name of safety.

And other things. 

Danallin is a fan of the other things, too.