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Turgon the Wise | Sarafinwë Turukáno (turukano) wrote in spinningcompass,

Guilt ate at Turgon frequently and for various reasons at that, but in this particular moment it was because he had no currency to offer whatever being presided over the goods he took from shops. Gondolin didn't operate with a typical currency, or fiat currency either, but exchanged goods for services on a regular basis and he supposed it was like what he was doing in this place. But he felt bad no less and so, had taken up the habit of leaving behind tiny sculptures done in the nighttime hours. A basic payment, and a worthless one, but one he felt better doing no less.

A trade for a trade, after all. He looked at the little figurine with pride for a moment, admiring the tiny detailed armor as he set it upon the counter and placed his shield upon the arm, so the soldier was defending himself. They were made of wood or stone, depending on the need and the desire.

"Eru bless you," he said quietly, "My life to yours, my breath become yours. Fight as if you were me," he ordered, though he knew full well that no amount of elvish will would bring to life stone. But it felt better to provide even a tiny bit of grace into each of the soldiers he left behind. That done, he gathered his things and turned to leave the shop, stepping out into the sunlight where he paused, his ears drooping in embarrassment when his eyes alighted upon the face of a young woman. His eyes drifted back to the shop as if she knew what he was doing in there and might judge him for his thieving.

"Good afternoon, Lady," he said, his voice lyrical and full of joy.