Denethor:
Denethor and Faramir found Ioreth in the her house in the Fifth Circle, puttering about in her garden. Her eyesight was failing a little, but she seemed to recognize them.
"Faramir, you dear boy," she greeted them, grabbing his cheek and squeezing it hard. "My are you getting big!"
"I'm in my thirties, Ioreth," said Faramir, "I rather think I've been done growing for a while."
"Never mind the pleasantries!" Denethor interrupted. "We're here on business. Rats have infiltrated the pipes, and we daren't start up the engines until they've been removed. You're the only one in the city interested in things like this. How do we go about it?"
"Well, dear," said Ioreth, patiently. "The first thing we should do is put on a pot of tea."
"Tea?" said Faramir incredulously. "What on Arda for?"
"Because it's only proper to sit down and discuss these things over a spot of tea, dear boy," said Ioreth. "And you shan't get a word out of me until we do."
Fortunately, there was nearly always a kettle boiling in Ioreth's house, and soon the three of them were seated at the table. Ioreth poured Denethor a cup, poured herself a cup, and then sat down.
"What about me?" demanded Faramir.
"Oh, sorry, ducky," said Ioreth. "Here, I'll go get you a glass of milk."
"Why can't I have tea too?" protested Faramir.
"The tea is for the adults, dear," said Ioreth. "Now be quiet while your father and I discuss these important matters. I seem to remember reading something about this in the old
Home Order and Management Embrolglios magazines. Oh, and have a biscuit."
She offered him a tray of cookies. Faramir took one begrudgingly, and nibbled on it while Denethor sipped his tea, and Ioreth rambled on.
"They don't make magazines like the HoME anymore," she sighed. "The editor was such a
dear man, you know. Shook my hand and called me "miss", he did, at the a luncheon for the Gardening Society. No one's called me that since I was a lass. You know what they say, the hands of etiquette are the hands of an editor."
"Er... they do?" said Faramir.
"Ssssh!" hushed Denethor. "She'll never get to the point if you keep interrupting."
"You know, that's the truth, it is," replied Ioreth. "Some people take forever to get around to things. My cousin Mithrellas, for example. She'll talk your ear off going on about the silliest things. Why just last Midsummer, she was going on about wizard's cloaks, and their clasps must be defective, and as I said to her-"
But what Ioreth said to her cousin, Faramir never heard, for Denethor's patience had already snapped.
"I'm sure it's a fascinating story," said Denethor. "And I'd love to hear it- some other time when I'm not trying to fix a broken-down city, win a race, or otherwise do anything useful. Meanwhile, can you or can you not help us remove the rats from the pipes?"
"Well, there's no need to get all huffy about things!" said Ioreth. "If there was a rush, you should have said so."
"Fine," said Denethor. "Have you got a solution?"
"Well, obviously what one has to do is lure them out," said Ioreth, sipping on her tea, and affecting the air of a great expert. "That's how it's done, you know, because you can't go in after them, and they're very clever little beasts, you know. Just like it's said in the fable about the Fox, the Rat, and the Kookaburra, when the Fox says-"
"I've heard that one already," said Denethor. "So we have to lure the rats out. What lures work?"
"Well, it depends on the rats," said Ioreth. "Very picky, they are. They'll eat just about anything, so food isn't necessarily what they want. And it should have a fairly strong smell, so that it can be out in the open, but they'll smell it in the pipes. I'd try all sorts of things: roast beef, chicken, perfume, laundry, baby powder... anything you think they might like."
"And I suppose I should go get to know them better so I've got an idea what they want," muttered Denethor.
"Well, you know what they say," said Ioreth. "Faint nose never won dead rat."
"Do they really say that?" asked Faramir.
"No, ducky, I made that one up myself," chuckled Ioreth, pinching his cheek. "But it's a right good one, I say, and it'll be remembered for sure. Just like that one about the King and his hands, and-"
"Thank you very much for all of your help," said Denethor, rising to his feet. "But we must be going now."
"Well, drop in again any time," said Ioreth seeing them to the door. "Guests are good but visitors are better, and you know-"
"Goodbye!" Denethor closely the door quickly behind them. He and Faramir set off a fast pace up the street.
"What now?" asked Faramir.
"Húrin and I will try to lure the rats out of the pipes," said Denethor. "Meanwhile, I want you to investigate the rest of the support staff, and find out who brought those rats in here. When you find him, bring him to me."
"What will you do to him, Father?"
"I'll send him to tea with Ioreth- every day," said Denethor in a growl. "He'll get what he deserves!"