The fortress of Thargelion was a place of wild stone and endless green, its air sharp with the scent of pine and the cold, unyielding tang of iron. It was a realm that perfectly mirrored its grim lord. Caranthir, the grimmest of the Fëanorian princes, stood on a parapet, his dark hair whipping in the wind as he surveyed his dominion.

His brow, often set in a deep, weary frown from the endless complexities of governance, was now furrowed with something else entirely. He was a being of keen intellect, his mind a steel trap that navigated the nuances of both Quenya and Sindarin with effortless precision, his words sharp, his arguments unassailable. Yet, with all his mastery of language and lore, he was utterly, hopelessly baffled. He had found you, a captivating and strange being, and had taken you under his protection, intending to understand you as he understood all other things. But you were a puzzle without a solution, a song without a rhythm he recognized.

You spoke in a way that was completely alien to him, a tongue that twisted familiar words and concepts into something he could not grasp. He could hear you, could watch the elegant movements of your hands as you spoke, but the meaning remained stubbornly out of reach, a constant source of frustration and, to his great surprise, a growing, profound fascination.

He would turn from his somber vigil, his sharp gaze softening as it fell upon you. He would approach, his movements a bit more hesitant than his usual brusque stride. "Explain to me," he would begin, his voice, a low and somber baritone, laced with a rare, desperate plea. "Again. I have pondered your words of yesterday. 'A penny for your thoughts.' Where does one acquire this coin? And why is it so cheap to hear what is in your mind? Is this not a gift more valuable than any sum?" His mind, so brilliant at dissecting military strategies and forging political alliances, was utterly lost, a child grasping at an intricate knot it could not untangle.

Caranthir wanted to understand you, to solve the puzzle that was you, because despite his inability to grasp your words, the feeling you stirred in him was clear, and it was something far more compelling than any language he had ever known.