Hushed Willows but my love is like a dark cloud full of rain thats always right there up above you

he is sharp enough to catch that momentary flash of panic. but it is brief and he decides that he is selfish enough to not tug that thread, even if he can't help the way his own eyes crinkle in question in response. he is selfish but also it is -- inscrutable, he has never been any good at this leadership thing, and her next question makes him laugh, still on that very thought. "i've never been either and that hasn't stopped me," delight says wryly, wearing a well-worn smile, "but -- yeah, of course. i'm here for you, i promise." and how could he not be, after everything she'd done for him? she'd nursed him on his death bed, for god's sake.

tilting his head slightly, he adds thoughtfully, "and you've been doing really well, seabreeze. you got us out of the sanctuary when things went bad, you kept things together when i was sick -- i, um. i always thought that you should've been leading tindómë, not me, actually, so as far as i'm concerned, we're righting a historical wrong, here." really, truthfully, though out loud he would never say this, seabreeze is everything delight wishes he was. soft and beautiful, the girl who got his first prince, well deserved -- the girl who should have been king, only then delight went and threw a wrench into the whole narrative, and she became scorned while he reaped her rightful rewards. she is wife and mother, and oh those words fill him with a strange sort of longing he's still trying to figure out, confused by his feelings for queenie and his distress at kaali's judgement. now, here, in this new and beautiful place, if nothing else, he can return things to the order they should be in.