{After everything, the not-quite-war and the certainly-not-Dagorath and the rather unpleasant voiding of Túrin and Melkor, Telimektar idles his way across Órë until he reaches Ossiriand --}
Home.
*drifts across the Ossiriand campus to Ingil's room* *sits on the unoccupied bed opposite Ingil's*
*listens to his breathing and wonders what it's like to sleep so (apparently) peacefully*
*rests his chin on his hands* *almost inaudibly* I did worry, you know. That it would go all end-of-the-world, fire-and-brimstone. Manwë kept it together though. I did worry. Which was silly. Because obviously, I would see you again and again. You out-lived Arda. You will out-live Órë. You may even out-live me, little star.