Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: T
Couples: Canon Ones
Warnings: AU
Chapter: 8
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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"Well..." He considered the cave, suddenly not only wondering what the elf had been thinking, but also what his wife had been thinking. Though then again, she didn't quite know what he knew, looking at the darkness that turned the gloom impenetrable.
He tilted his head some, watching her approach the entrance. She glowed... yet glowed. He did not want to consider if she could keep glowing.
"It fits your Halls." Vairë looked at him, several metaphysical arms beckoning him closer. "And she's yet to try and eat me."
This time, he wanted to say, to think, but they were spouses. She would hear, on either count. But he remembered, in a dark corner of his mind, that a certain turn on the plane of probabilities, had caused her light going out. Perhaps the only thing that terrified him. "You did warn her, right?" He knew she had, they'd shared that moment.
"You are going to have to tell me what you know at some point." She countered, turning from him and heading inside.
He could not, unwilling to consider the particular journey that had lead to that one. Instead he followed, his own gloom clashing with the darkness.
For once, he felt something akin to the incarnates' phenomenon of fight or flight. There were several types of gloom in the cavern, from the normal, to the abnormal, to the metaphysical. How in their Father's name was there metaphysical darkness here? On what level was this Virilomë that she could create metaphysical darkness at her weakest...
At best, it was indeed a spider, though it had several more body-parts of various configurations... and he was very certain it changed with some regularity.
"Thank you for you hospitality." That, he supposed, was proper etiquette in this situation, outside of the norm as it was. The part of him that always lived in the dark recesses of his mind, half-hanging still beyond the confines of Eä, whispered more in a plane so far from anyone that perhaps only their father might have caught it.
The form answered him, though he did not understand it beyond a general vibe.
Ever obligingly, he mirrored as his wife had so often done, throwing the offered dinner into the depths, where it snagged and then faded into the nothing. He did not show his reaction to it, though Vairë might have felt it a bit. At least, if the look she threw him was any indication. She could read him well, after all these Ages of the world they'd spend together.
"So what... exactly... did you want me here for?" He changed the subject, eyes trailing over several weaves that were in progress on the far wall.
"Well..." With no care for his reaction, she launched into an explanation, occasionally supplemented by sounds from the being looming over them both. Physical and metaphysical hands held one weave for his inspection, as several more moved quickly and sharply like embroidering needles.
He supposed there were worse things the three of them could be dealing with than a science-experiment. They could have taken a wrong turn on the plane of probability, for one. Several wrong turns, barrelling to...
Namó, Dread Namó, considered the frankly terrifying alternative. There was no light that could not be smothered and ruined.