Давай, давай, Тину, восхищайся.
Coward.
- Are you talking to me?
Who else? There is no one here besides you and me and this Elf on a branch. So be sure: it’s you who’s the coward.
- Then you’re the coward’s sword.
Oh yes. I’d prefer to rust in a swamp than to serve such a driveling idiot as you are.
- Hey, ease off a bit! After all, you’re not really talking to me, I’ve thought it out myself not to go crazy from loneliness. I can make you silent if I want.
You can’t. A warrior’s sword is a warrior’s soul. And you can’t shut your soul up. You have run away from the field of battle. You were scared, son. Not Sauron, not Boldog made you retreat – you’ve run away from an Elven maiden.
- And what did you want me to do? To confess to her and to ask for her hand? But I don’t know if she loves me or not! She never told me.
She didn’t because you didn’t let her to. You started to prevaricate yourself: I won’t bear a refuse, I’m afraid of a consent… You’re not only a coward but a fool also.
- Why that? I made a right choice. We can’t be together anyway, so it’s better to part at once.
What a wonderful reasoning! People die anyway, so let’s drown them in wells right after birth! Or before it, together with their mothers. Go ahed, hero, stifle your hope. But when fate gives you a good kick, remember that it was you who turned your back to it! What’s up with you, son? You have never done things by halves! “Yes” means yes, “no” means no.
- I’m not what she needs.
How do you know, you’ve never asked her! What did you expect, you dummy – that she would hang on your neck herself?
- I don’t think that she could have fallen in love in two months.
And how much time did you need to fall in love with her? A moment? Two? Forget this manuscript at least for a second, think about youself and her and not about Aikanaro and your grandmother Andreth! They had their own lives, you have your own. Live it, damn you, live it so that one could make a worthy song about you when you diminish in the West!
- Have I not done enough for it?
There can be only one measure: if you have done ALL you could or not. At least tried to do instead of wearing your pants through and complaining about your cruel fate.
- Listen, shut up, would you? I’m sick anyway.
Feeling sick – go relieve yourself. Don’t plague me with your vacant look. If you throw that nonsense out of your head, maybe you’ll bring yourself to go to her, to tell her everything, and to accept everything that happens.
- You’re forgetting about one thing: I am guarded.
Damn it all! Did that ever stop you? What are you afraid of? The worst thing that can happen to you is death, and you claimed that Nightingale alone was worthy a thousand lives and a thousand deaths, didn’t you?
- Fool! I don’t fear for myself, I fear for her!
Don’t. She can perfectly fear for herself and she needs no help with this. After all, she’s older than Finrod the Wise, whom you love to refer to so often. So she knows a thing or two about life. She will decide for herself, don’t worry. But don’t expect she will decide for you as well. You are ner - the man, and you must choose your ways by yourself. Decide now, or I am your sword no more and will abandon your hand in the first encounter, or break myself.
Ох, с временами у меня плохо... Кто-нить нужен, кто грамматику хорошо знает.
Edit: Айканаро исправила.