Undómion leaned back in the chair with one leg swung over the other, one hand with a goblet of wine. He did not feel any form of remorse or feel for his actions towards Ráolor’s work of art. The blind elf had beheaded the statue. Ráolor yelled at him, and even threatened Undómion should he lay hand on the statue again…The blind elf did not seem to care; all he saw was he was trying to make a point clear. Is life really all in statues and jewels? What about being friendship, or marriage, bound to someone forever? What held more worth?
Does he not see that wasting your life into something worthless is foolish? Look at Fëanor and Celebrimbor…and see all the turmoil they have caused. Undómion heard footsteps then…and sneezing, “You are difficult to understand, my love.”
Díllothwen rubbed her nose with her sleeve, her voice sounding off due to the very pungent smelling plants, “A-ah! I-I love gardening though!”
Undómion got a whiff of the plants, and his face became itchy, “Elbereth! Where the-” he sneezed then, and some of the wine splashed onto his clothing. He frowned, “Look what you did.”
Díllothwen moved quickly out of the room to get rid of her bouquet of sneeze stimulators, and then came back, “Sorry.” She said in mirth, “It will come off easily anyway.”
“I hope so…”
Díllothwen grinned, and then flopped down on the ground next to her husband, “How was your talk with Ráolor?”
Undómion’s dead eyes flashed…Díllothwen made it brief when she left to go flower picking…
“Be nice to each other.” Díllothwen said as she left the two Noldor.
“Always.” Ráolor responded.
“Hopefully.” Undómion said after…
“Hopefully…”
“Iorphen?”
Undómion blinked, “It…was...” He inhaled, “…alright.”
Díllothwen stared, noting the clenching of Undómion’s hand, “I doubt that. I see the flash in your eyes; I hardly see that happen…”
Unease grew in Undómion. He did not want to speak of it…yet he knew holding it in will only result in fury some time later, “…I hit him.”
“You what?!”
Undómion subconsciously lowered his head as if to look at his hand, “Ráolor is foolish…”
“Foolish how?”
“Who would put their love into something that cannot do the same? Stone is not living and moving…” Hearing no answer, Undómion continued, “I have seen too many of the Noldor meet their end for nonsense. You know of a couple…one actually led to the war we are living in now.”
“Celebrimbor...Annatar…” Díllothwen said breathlessly.
“I wish not for Ráolor to fall under the same circumstances. Yet, what do I know of the Fëanorians? They are too hot headed to realize their mistakes, and unrelenting even in death…”
“Why do you try and influence people into doing something against their nature?”
Undómion huffed, “To avoid falling into darkness like I did!” He hissed, “It is not like you do not influence people too…”
Díllothwen stood up, “But the ones I influence change willingly; not forcefully.” She tapped his nose, which resulted him turning away from her. The elleth sighed, feeling the tension and anger in the air, “You are the biggest example of that.”
“I do not want to think about that right now.” Undómion pleaded with slight desperation, “I beg you not to bring it up.”
“Iorphen, stop getting worked up.” Díllothwen said softly, wrapping her arms around his shoulder, and putting his head against her chest.
I am not doing it intentionally! Undómion allowed the comforting presence of Díllothwen rekindle the candle in the ever impending darkness he was bound in, “I have said this too many times…but I just do not know what to think or how to act anymore.”
“I do not mind hearing it over and over again if it makes you feel better.”
“I feel manipulated…” Is this caused by the people I have met? Why do I not feel bad whenever Díllothwen is doing it?
“Not by me, I hope.”
“Yours is good. Others…no.” …Who, though!?
Silence was in the air for a while before the ellon spoke again.
“…I have no intention speaking to Ráolor anymore; and I mean it this time.”
“It might not stop me, though.” Díllothwen answered.
“…If harm is committed, I will find a sword.”
Díllothwen frowned, “No you will not.”
“…I would not.” Undómion complied with no fight. Taunts…he felt taunted. What crime have I committed? Do I even have control over myself? This is not…This is not normal for me! Only in these musing he acknowledged the back of his clothing was sticking to him, and the fact he was not feeling well.
“You are bleeding!” Díllothwen exclaimed, tugging on Undómion to get him on his feet.
“How unfortunate…” he answered dumbly, feeling tired and a bit faint all of a sudden.
