*visibly startles, Lily's soft Doriathrin lilt as much a slap in the face as any of her words* What are you remembering, daughter of mine?
*glances at you anxiously, wordlessly asking whether you hear it too, as though he needs confirmation (and he's heard the stories, of course, even known a few of them—those who return as others and cannot or will not remember; but she simply cannot be one of them, not when he's known her since she was small enough to fit in the crook of his arm)*
*adding his voice to the noise, though it's gentler, soothing* Lily, it's all right. (Do you think we would hurt you?) No one wants to hurt you.