That certainly wasn't what she'd been expecting to hear. And while that offered a bit of relief the sudden pressure of his words merely changed the source of her worry. She had been restrained, subdued really, and terribly quiet this last week when normally she wasn't. It was unlike her, and she did not enjoy the change in herself. But she had simply wanted to go back to the way things were, when they were happy together and free.
Idril grew up in a time of peace. In Valinor she'd known no true strife, then Vinyamar in Nevrast had been a silent time of peace, until they'd moved onto Gondolin. And for four hundred years she'd lived in the safety, joy and peace of the Vale of Tumladen, kept hidden away from the damage, griefs and terrors of the Nolodr's war on Morgoth. The only darkness she knew was the Helcaraxë, but she was otherwise unburdened in spirit and free. And therefore happy, with a joy that bordered on ridiculous at times. To see it darkened was disturbing.
"I do not want to fight with you either," she said, and she meant it! She said cruel things when they fought, things she did not believe but only wanted to say to hurt him. And that was wrong. "But I do not know what to do, Tuor. I want you to be happy, and I want to be happy. What has become of us? I do not want it to be this way forever. It has never been so..." hard? So cold. "I love you."