[He echoes. It's not mocking- it's just that there is so much of it. One part at a time, like with the lembas (like with every treacherous foot of the Ice, really), that's how he needs to proceed. But where to go next?]
We shared clothing, too... dresses, tunics, cloaks. There wasn't enough of it to be picky. Irisse spent months with three of her dancing gowns on at once. You remember the one with the diamond-crusted bodice? Eventually it worse so thin that she tore it up, pinned it with other old clothes, and turned it into a shawl for Itarille.
Eventually, we replaced things. There were these great white bears on the Ice, and their fur was prized. And there was sealskin too, we figured out eventually that was waterproof. But there was never enough of it. None of the animals on the ice traveled in packs large enough to clothe large groups. We had to scavenge what we could, and most people had no idea how. You know my father's people. Most of them were city-folk. Some hadn't even been camping before.
[ And too many faces flashed before his eyes. The ones who'd starved, the ones who'd frozen, the ones who'd drowned. The ones who'd simply stopped walking, or who had never emerged from sleep. The ones who'd died in avalanches, gasping for air, and the ones who'd died on orc-spears at the end, because they'd had to toss away their armor somewhere on the other side of the Sea.]
Nothing was ever enough. We grew clever and observant, we learned our environment. We sang songs to warm us and to keep the Ice closed under our feet, so it wouldn't thin under the heat of thousands of bodies, and we learned when one was more needed than the other.
But sometimes there was just nothing the rest of us could do, no matter how we tried. And we tried. Over and over....
I will send Maitimo to you when I find him then. And feel free to chase the
others away! Makalaure and Feanaro, I think, know well enough to stay
clear. I will talk to Atarinke.
[Fingon has been quite happy to avoid Feanor's presence in the time he's been on the train, and he's sure everyone else is happier they haven't met too.
He's somewhat sorrier about Kano, but at the end of the day his cousin did choose to throw a torch. Fingon can forgive, but it's still hard sometimes to forget.]
My thanks. And really, you needn't worry. I'll be fine.
no subject
[ Nerdanel sits and does not speak, only pressing the tea into his hands, listening as he finds a way to start. ]
I am glad you had it. [ She says quietly ] And then?
no subject
[He echoes. It's not mocking- it's just that there is so much of it. One part at a time, like with the lembas (like with every treacherous foot of the Ice, really), that's how he needs to proceed. But where to go next?]
We shared clothing, too... dresses, tunics, cloaks. There wasn't enough of it to be picky. Irisse spent months with three of her dancing gowns on at once. You remember the one with the diamond-crusted bodice? Eventually it worse so thin that she tore it up, pinned it with other old clothes, and turned it into a shawl for Itarille.
Eventually, we replaced things. There were these great white bears on the Ice, and their fur was prized. And there was sealskin too, we figured out eventually that was waterproof. But there was never enough of it. None of the animals on the ice traveled in packs large enough to clothe large groups. We had to scavenge what we could, and most people had no idea how. You know my father's people. Most of them were city-folk. Some hadn't even been camping before.
no subject
[ Nerdanel was always the one who listened, and she does so now, allowing him the space to talk ]
It sounds as if you did as well as you could with what you had.
[ She observes ]
no subject
[ And too many faces flashed before his eyes. The ones who'd starved, the ones who'd frozen, the ones who'd drowned. The ones who'd simply stopped walking, or who had never emerged from sleep. The ones who'd died in avalanches, gasping for air, and the ones who'd died on orc-spears at the end, because they'd had to toss away their armor somewhere on the other side of the Sea.]
Nothing was ever enough. We grew clever and observant, we learned our environment. We sang songs to warm us and to keep the Ice closed under our feet, so it wouldn't thin under the heat of thousands of bodies, and we learned when one was more needed than the other.
But sometimes there was just nothing the rest of us could do, no matter how we tried. And we tried. Over and over....
no subject
Oh Finno...
[ She murmurs sympathetically and squeezes his hand ]
I am so sorry.
no subject
[Despite his words, he squeezes back.]
In some senses, this is better than the snowfall earlier. It's far better when I have something to focus on than otherwise.
no subject
I know. But even so... I wish I could have done more, little nephew.
[ She smiles at him ] I am glad you are finding your own way through.
no subject
[Shaking his head]
In these circumstances, we all do what we must. That, I suppose, was a lesson from the Ice.
no subject
[ She sighs and lets it go. Past is past, it cannot now be changed
and no one wants to give Feanor Ideas about that anyway]Is there anything I can do now? [ Practicality matters more ]
no subject
[He's not going to directly ask she keep her brood away for now. It's a little unkind.]
no subject
I will keep my boys away. Unless you'd like me to send Maitimo?
no subject
I would appreciate that.
no subject
I will send Maitimo to you when I find him then. And feel free to chase the others away! Makalaure and Feanaro, I think, know well enough to stay clear. I will talk to Atarinke.
end?
He's somewhat sorrier about Kano, but at the end of the day his cousin did choose to throw a torch. Fingon can forgive, but it's still hard sometimes to forget.]
My thanks. And really, you needn't worry. I'll be fine.
yus
You're family, dear. I always worry.