–
“It was Laumë who contacted me, actually,” Sauron said, scratched his beard idly. “I was quite as surprised as anyone. She wished for my help restoring a rare artifact she’d found. Very precocious!” He laughed, then sobered quickly.
“Mitsa, I understand this puts you in a precarious position, but I must ask you to keep our correspondence to yourself. She wrote to me in confidence; Ossë does not know, and I expect she would be mortified if he found out.”
Noting the difficulty his guest was having with the quartz, he went unbidden to a wall of small, catalogued drawers set into the back of his workroom. He plucked a few specimens from their containers carefully while Mitsa spoke, and something he said made Sauron startle mid-turn.
“Parent?” he exclaimed, nearly fumbling his armful of crystals. “I– Oh! Forgive me, I assumed– but, Uinen, surely…?” He shook his head rapidly to clear it, blinking. “Pardon my ignorance, friend. I am clearly not as informed about this situation as I thought! …Here, try fluorite. Should hold and emit a stronger light when Sung to,” he finished as an aside.
Mitsanár couldn’t help but laugh, a rich rolling sound that came out with such intensity that he had to hold onto the counter’s edge lest he fall over. Miraculously he managed to detatch the quartz crystals from his device without dropping them. Their slight glow vanished as soon as he took his hand away.
“I think a few explanations are in order,” he said warmly. “Mitsalaume has three parents: Terror, Pearl, and myself. She takes after her father and mother quite a bit, but I am her mentor and confidant in many matters. I knew of her diving trips, of her growing treasure collection, even of her letters, though I’d no idea who she was writing to before now. Just because I helped her construct a personal journal does not mean I read it.”
He paused, leaning one hip against the counter and twirled a tool absentmindedly between his fingers. “I will say nothing of your letters unless she is ready to admit them, or I find you’ve done her harm. In which case-” he leveled the tool like a sword at Sauron’s chest- “I will grease your forge floors to a mirror polish, fill your chimneys solid with dried corn, misplace all of your dustpans, hide explosives in your quenching trough, and move each and every one of your tools to places most inconvenient for you.”
His mouth formed a silent ‘o’ as he took in the information, shaking his head with an expression both wry and sheepish. “I… should have guessed that,” he grinned in return. “The simplest explanation, and my mind flew clear over it. Of course such a unique child should have a stable of parents to raise her; Mahal preserve you if you try to do it alone.”
Mitsa’s laugh was delightful; a rounder, warmer sound than he was expecting from such a small frame. It distracted him enough that his giddy smile lasted up until there was a dapping punch pointed at his sternum.
“Woah! Easy friend,” he parried the rod away gently with the back of his hand, “I mean her no ill. Do you really think I’d harbor a vendetta against a child?” His brow furrowed pitifully over soulful, lupine eyes. “What threat do you imagine she poses? These days I am on passable terms with the sea folk, I’d do nothing to jeopardize that; and what is more, she considers me her godfather! I’m saddened you think I would harm a fledgling girl who entrusted me with her confidence.”
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 