[Amanaduial the archer]

Having seated herself on one of the fine, velvet and mahogany couches in Celebrimbor's room, Narisiel pulled two sheets of parchment, rolled and tied with ribbon, from inside a slim cylinder case. Spreading them across the low table in front, she glanced up at Maegisil, who was standing awkwardly and uncertainly beside her. She didn't want to smile, but couldn't help giving him a quick grin. "Please do sit, Counsellor," she said softly, her voice mocking but gently so. The other elf's cheeks coloured slightly, allowing Narisiel to feel a little embarassed herself at the possibility of seeming rude, and he hurriedly sat down beside her, almost being overly careful not to sit on the folds of rich damson coloured cloth of her dress. In the corner of her eye, the smith saw a slight smile lift Celebrimbor's lips - amusement or fondness at her boldness maybe. She looked down again quickly and briskly began showing Maegisil the plans for the necklace.

"I planned two designs; I was not sure which might suit best, as I do not really know your wife more than by sight. Sairien, isn't it?" Maegisil nodded, looking a little surprised as he glanced at Narisiel. She smiled, shrugging but not elaborating, before nodding towards the first design - the one on the topmost piece of parchment. "This is the one I personally prefer. It is a simpler design than the other, and so you may prefer the latter, but it has both a delicacy and a strength that I believe...well, I should be pleased to achieve it, and the result would hopefully please you also."

Maegisil murmured some affirmation of this, an almost mandatory formality to him, and Narisiel shot him a quick smile, brushing a spare strand of hair behind her ear nervously - Celebrimbor, rather than having left the room as she had expected and rather hoped, had instead stayed and was watching his two counsellors from where he stood at the window, half turned as if to survey the view outside, but with his keen eyes trained on them - or, more accurately, on her, as Narisiel knew without looking up. But the nervous gesture caused her to lift her hand from the plans unthinkingly, and the side of the parchment sprung up, eagerly making a break for it's previous rolled up position. Maegisil's hand darted forward, pinning down one corner even as Narisiel, flustered, seized it herself. She smiled briefly at him, and, taking advantage of now having one hand free, she slid her slim fingers across the rough parchment, beginning to focus on more specific points of the design. "You admired the rubies the other day, and although these are a fine choice - your wife's dark hair would be complimented by the rich red of a larger ruby stone, maybe - they are also a relatively popular choice, and I planned a little something different."

She pinpointed six roughly sketched gems which were interwoven into two intertwining chains of silver, and ended with one finger resting on a seventh, larger gem which was at the centre of the necklace - the centre piece. It was not an especially large gem, but was quite significantly bigger than the smaller gems around the sides of the necklace - centralised and fine without being audacious or overly-showy, she explained. "I planned on saphires, if this would please you," she continued, with the air of one whose plans were flexible, but was quietly confident that they would be accepted. "The smaller gems would be, say, the size of the rubies you admired yesterday, although I would be able to cut or procur even smaller, more delicate ones; the centralised one would be larger, as I have said. It allows a design that seems simple, but the interwoven silver chains within which the small gems would be delicately buried would allow a fragility and intricacy that...well," she shrugged, knowing that Maegisil would understand. She was gaining confidence now, almost forgetting the third prescence in the room. But after she had continued for a few more moments, Maegisil occasionally nodding or murmuring some comment or question, the extra prescence was to make itself known.

"I am sorry to interrupt, but Narisiel...I must know if you are willing to speak to me."

Celebrimbor's words surprised her, and she momentarily stiffened, but it was a movement and shock so controlled that it was only Maegisil who noticed, as the smith's hands stiffened slightly, stretched as they were over his arm. Uncertain and barely breathing, he glanced at her, only his grey eyes flickering to scan her face. But Narisiel merely took a deep breath....then looked up again, her face a mask of perfect, porcelain politeness. "Speak to you, my Lord?"

Celebrimbor, seated across from the pair on an opposite couch, hesitated, and bewilderment flitted over his face, just for a moment. He nodded wordlessly. Now was the moment that Narisiel had wondered about, had dreaded even - yet was also excited by. Part of her was even irritated - if only he had let her finish explaining her plans to Maegisil, she would at least have had a chance to escape. Escape... For a moment, the ludicrous idea of hitching up her skirts, sprinting across the room and leaping through the window flitted across her mind. Why, the skirt would probably even suffice as a parachute of some sort...gently float down and, by careful rudder use of the petticoats, direct myself to my forge...

The image that this momentarily conjured up was such a comical one that the smith smiled - then realised that the gesture had escaped and froze it, cursing inwardly. But then, hadn't another part of her secretly been waiting for this meeting, been planning it since...well, since when? How long had she been waiting to release all the curiousity and frustrated excitement and anxiety about the rings that had pent up inside her?

Did Lord Celebrimbor not speak to your concerning the Three...

Maegisil's words from yesterdays meeting at the forge surfaced in her mind. Narisiel made up her mind: looking directly into Celebrimbor's eyes, she let a moment pass, then relaxed into her smile. Standing, she sighed and looked away, taking a few steps towards the window, before she half turned to look back the still seated elf, not without warmth this time.

"Speak with you, Lord Celebrimbor?" She hesitated once more, then made the plunge. "Nothing would allow me more pleasure at this moment, Celebrimbor," she replied finally. And with that informal first-name use, Narisiel felt a burst of rekindled friendship - and a slight chill, as the events of one hundred years tugged, always, at her mind.