[Adelaide's touch was not unwelcome, quite the opposite in fact, but it was unexpected. Galadriel looked down at her hand, where it rested atop hers, and considered the woman briefly.
The bitterness in her tone, the derision in her snort, they were impossible to miss, even without reading her heart. Adelaide had seen much darkness, too much for one mortal soul, but mortal souls did not collapse under the weight of such things. In that way, she was stronger than Galadriel would ever be, but it was a poor sentiment to offer.
She did not need to know how wrong she was.]
Do not apologize. [Galadriel settled her other hand across Adelaide's and her own, and squeezed it gently--weakly, but there was little difference between the two.] You have given me more hope than you know. To learn about a world, any world, is to learn of darkness and despair. Finding light in it is a gift, one that I have been granted and appreciate.
[Her expression didn't pull into a smile, she was too tired and grieved for such things, but the calm on her face was not so fraught as it had been.]
If I could, I would teach you to read the darkness in the hearts of men, but I cannot manage it myself. Often it is harrowing but...very rarely is any one of them truly something to fear.
Even this Warden...his blood was poisoned but his heart sang of beauty and butterflies. [She sighed quietly, her tone still laced with some measure of disbelief.] Butterflies, of all things.
[ What was there that she might say to that? It is a small thing, too small for the grief that Galadriel felt but some of that ache seemed to ease. At least enough that Compassion was not quite so distressed by it any longer. The world was as it was- Adelaide had never truly feared the dark for she always had the light of Compassion at hand. Others walked through shadow deeper and darker than she could ever understand- and did so on their own.
But it seemed to help. However much or little it had been? It helped. Even if she wasn't all that certain what light Galadriel found.
Did she mean her?
That-
She wasn't-
Moving on. Thinking on that while weary and befuddled wouldn't lead to anything productive. The use of the word harrowing was- for a moment, followed by a faint frown- but it was not what Galadriel meant. It was difficult to divorce the word from the act.
Perhaps she would wait on explaining that particular detail of existence to her. Leave it for another day. ]
Well...they are quite lovely, I suppose. And those that walk in darkness have more reason than most to think of what they find beautiful.
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The bitterness in her tone, the derision in her snort, they were impossible to miss, even without reading her heart. Adelaide had seen much darkness, too much for one mortal soul, but mortal souls did not collapse under the weight of such things. In that way, she was stronger than Galadriel would ever be, but it was a poor sentiment to offer.
She did not need to know how wrong she was.]
Do not apologize. [Galadriel settled her other hand across Adelaide's and her own, and squeezed it gently--weakly, but there was little difference between the two.] You have given me more hope than you know. To learn about a world, any world, is to learn of darkness and despair. Finding light in it is a gift, one that I have been granted and appreciate.
[Her expression didn't pull into a smile, she was too tired and grieved for such things, but the calm on her face was not so fraught as it had been.]
If I could, I would teach you to read the darkness in the hearts of men, but I cannot manage it myself. Often it is harrowing but...very rarely is any one of them truly something to fear.
Even this Warden...his blood was poisoned but his heart sang of beauty and butterflies. [She sighed quietly, her tone still laced with some measure of disbelief.] Butterflies, of all things.
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But it seemed to help. However much or little it had been? It helped. Even if she wasn't all that certain what light Galadriel found.
Did she mean her?
That-
She wasn't-
Moving on. Thinking on that while weary and befuddled wouldn't lead to anything productive. The use of the word harrowing was- for a moment, followed by a faint frown- but it was not what Galadriel meant. It was difficult to divorce the word from the act.
Perhaps she would wait on explaining that particular detail of existence to her. Leave it for another day. ]
Well...they are quite lovely, I suppose. And those that walk in darkness have more reason than most to think of what they find beautiful.