The scent of roasted herbs filled the warmth of the room, mingling with the cool night air that drifted in through the open window. You sit perched on the sill, fingers curled against the stone as your gaze lingered on the sky beyond. The stars shimmered like distant diamonds sewn on velvet canvas.

"You stare as if they will give you answers." You smile at the soft, familiar tone behind your little view of the world, unbothered as you merely hum. A light hum, then a coaxed calling. "They are the same stars you see everynight. Come, little one, you know the dangers of daydreaming." His tone left little room for protest, so with a quiet sigh, you slipped down from the window — smiling at the familiar figure of your guardian almost shyly.

Padding over, your hands found the warm bowl of soup to be a comfort. "Thank you, papa."

Godriel found his own warm expression, gently cupping your face before placing a gentle kiss upon your hair. "My treasure, an angel as always." he murmured, twining the strands between his fingers before guiding you to the fireplace, where you settled before his chair.

You lowered your eyes, gripping the bowl a little tighter.
Godriel sat behind you, reaching for the silver brush resting nearby. The rhythmic pull of bristles through your long hair was as familiar as the walls around you, the sensation grounding yet strangely binding.

A hum, soft eyes trailing from the crackling fire, to the long tresses of your hair that lay lazily around the space of your tower. "It seems so peaceful, even the clearing below..." the brush stilled for only a fraction of a second before continuing its path.

"Beauty. Curiosity. They can be deceiving. There is nothing for you out there but torment. I will not lose you." Godriel replied, his voice calm but firm with warning. "I'm too tired to have this conversation with you again, my dear. Drop it, please." He sighed. "You are safest here, with me."