*smooths Arandur's hair and straightens his shirt with such gentle adoration, it must be forgivable if half her mind is elsewhere entirely* *her grief resonating, if only for a moment* He knew nothing of evil. Nothing of fear. *exhales* But he is his parents' son.
take care of his Fëanorian interests
*is utterly silent for a long moment, too deeply appalled to respond* *exerts great effort to keep her voice and her touch calm, for your little one's sake* I see. *another, longer pause* Your father was terrified, Túrin.