Turin furrowed his brow suspiciously, Beleg has told him earlier to meet him in was it this cave? Yes of course it was, cave one hundred and seventeen, or was it cave seven hundred and eleven? It was at times such as these that Turin seriously considered his choice of spending his life in a place with a thousand caves.
It was rumored among the young scholars that there were really only three hundred and fourty three caves when Thingol and Melian chose their place of residence, but a thousand caves had a more regal air to it, and having a Maia on your side allows ones self to break geographical boundaries.
All pointless mashups of history and geography put aside (let Saeros worry about that) Turin could not deny the gut feeling that he was in the wrong place. The same gut feeling that saved his life in countless occasions. For starters, he could hear a huge amount of sobbing coming out of a closed door. That in itself was a good indication that he had mistook Beleg's directions, it wouldn't be a first time after all. Didn't the Eru forsaken elf understand that not everyone knew every twig in all of Doriath, "turn left at the tree with the sad and gnarled branch until you reach the rock with a mottles look to it" never reaped the best results.
Turin was just about to come out of his serious strategical reverie when the Eru forsaken elf in question stepped out from the room with all the crying and bounded towards his friend.
"Turin, good you're here. I thought that you'd never show up."
Turin absent mindedly patted Beleg's shoulder, "I'm glad that I'm an asset, uh what's going on?"
"Well," explained the bowman while giving a Strongbow Beer add a dirty look, "every since the lice thing he's been having a few...issues...and...well..."
It was then that a red eyed sniffling Mablung joined the group and immediately gave Turin a rib cracking hug.
"A few issues? I have mental scars!" whimpered the heavy hand into Turin's shoulder
Turin looked a little hesitant to hugh Mablung back, he made eye contact with Beleg who mouthed, "I made him bathe"
After the confirmation he patted Mablung on the back and tried his best at this consoling buisness.
"Aw, I never knew that having evil lice would be that bad. Come on, pull yourself together, you've been through worse after all."
"Your efforts are in vain," said an exasperated Beleg, "I've been trying to work things out with him for a few hours now."
"Well, maybe you don't have the right person, maybe you need to get-"
"I'm already here" groaned Bargon as he stepped out from the room that not so long ago held Mablung.
Bargon was the one that got rid of not only Mablung's lice, but also whatever remained of his sanity,
Bargon was then closely followed by an elf that Turin did not recognize.
"Hello Turin, Mablung told me all about you, I feel as if we've been friends for a long time."
Turin looked to Beleg for an explanation
"After a while I realized that we needed professional help, but our psychiatrist is refusing to treat Mablung, so I had to call one from the Sub-Tals."
Turin looked aghast,
"You brought one of them, here? You invited them to infect our last place of resistance? Now no place is sacred, Beleg you know how the Sub-Tal people creep me out."
"I know Turin, I like the idea as much as you do but we were out of options."
"I hate to interrupt," said Bargon, stepping in, "but I think that we should focus on the main problem here. The three of us together couldn't get him to snap out of it. We had to employ half of Doriath to coax him out of Gene's stall."
"What was he doing in Gene's stall." asked Turin tentitively
"Oh," replied Beleg, "just sobbing uncontrollably into her."
"Wait, where did Mablung go?"