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Old 12-08-2006, 04:02 PM   #52
Mithalwen
Pilgrim Soul
 
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Join Date: May 2004
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Mithalwen is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Mithalwen is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Mithalwen is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Mithalwen is lost in the dark paths of Moria.
Tathren had not imagined that the audience would be such a tense affair - and it had barely started, the letter had not been read yet.

He was not offended that he had not been presented to Ulfang. He was Lachrandir's servant. A person of no consequence. He had been offered a seat, a courtesy extended to visitors in the customs of most cultures but that was all.

He followed his Lord's lead in matters of comportment; he sat when Lachrandir sat, rose when he rose and attempted the same composure. And if he had to speak he doubted his words would have the same condecension as Lachrandir had shown when they entrusted their horses to the servant. For his master such address was a natural mode of address. He guessed that he would have addressed an elven groom in like manner; here though the grosser disparity in status made his manner seem more patronising.

Neither would his own speech carry the same authority as Lachrandir's. It might prove too gauche or too glib for the situation and having observed the old lord's ire and rivalry between his sons he had wit enough to realise a misjudged phrase could have unfortunate consequences.

Really it was a relief not to be expected to speak. It was all Tathren could do to maintain a dignified silence. The chairs were not designed for someone even of his height - he was unable to divine from a sideways glance how Lachrandir managed to assume a easy and elegant pose despite his even greater height. Tathren felt he could not stretch out his legs as if seated by his own fireside and the chair was to low to tuck them back with comfort. He was only too aware that if he fidgeted he would disturb the bag that he had propped at the side of the chair and that if it fell it would not be the soft thud of a bundle of clothes but hard, metallic, at best a clink, at worst a humiliating clatter of coins that would incur his lord's disapproval far beyond his previous mild irritation.

He was anxious for Lachrandir to speak and defuse some of the tension - but he feared also that the envoy's words might have the reverse effect and be a flame to the fuse.

Last edited by Mithalwen; 12-10-2006 at 11:58 AM.
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