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piosenniel · 06-25-2003, 04:24 PM

Orual's post

Tarannon Falastur sat back in his chair, looking out the window into the gardens outside of the palace. He fiddled with the model of a new ship he planned to submit to the chief shipmaker, once he got around to it. Right now something else was on his mind.

He sighed as he glanced at the portrait of his family--that is, himself, his wife Beruthiél, and her managerie. He did wish that she would not obsess over those cats like that, but he supposed it was better than her unseemly work at the gardens at Osgiliath. He could have gotten her nice cats, good, well-bred, decent cats, but she had to have her strays. He did not understand it, but at least it got her out of his hair, most of which was gray because of her moaning about wanting a child
.
He heard a mutter from outside his door about the "Queen's beasts," and frowned. If Beruthiél was going to insist on keeping those animals, the least she could do was keep them from being underfoot all of the time. One would swear that they followed Tarannon around, given how often he tripped over them.

A knock came at the door. "Come in," Tarannon called.

"My lord, the schematics you asked for are in," said a lanky young man, closing the door behind him and offering the king a small stack of papers.

"Thank you," Tarannon replied, and dismissed the man, going through the papers. Beruthiél and her cats were forgotten; military matters now consumed all of his thought.

06-25-2003, 04:24 PM	#10
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,786	Orual's post Tarannon Falastur sat back in his chair, looking out the window into the gardens outside of the palace. He fiddled with the model of a new ship he planned to submit to the chief shipmaker, once he got around to it. Right now something else was on his mind. He sighed as he glanced at the portrait of his family--that is, himself, his wife Beruthiél, and her managerie. He did wish that she would not obsess over those cats like that, but he supposed it was better than her unseemly work at the gardens at Osgiliath. He could have gotten her nice cats, good, well-bred, decent cats, but she had to have her strays. He did not understand it, but at least it got her out of his hair, most of which was gray because of her moaning about wanting a child . He heard a mutter from outside his door about the "Queen's beasts," and frowned. If Beruthiél was going to insist on keeping those animals, the least she could do was keep them from being underfoot all of the time. One would swear that they followed Tarannon around, given how often he tripped over them. A knock came at the door. "Come in," Tarannon called. "My lord, the schematics you asked for are in," said a lanky young man, closing the door behind him and offering the king a small stack of papers. "Thank you," Tarannon replied, and dismissed the man, going through the papers. Beruthiél and her cats were forgotten; military matters now consumed all of his thought. __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.