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Old 07-07-2006, 07:35 PM   #724
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Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: The Edge of Faerie
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An Elf Princess married to a Man. It made Maegeleb's bile rise. Until he saw King Elessar. His hair bore streaks of grey, which suggested an Elven Lord many thousands of years of age. His mien was kingly like the Númenoreans of old. This was a very son of Elros Tar Minyatar. Maegeleb was impressed. Nevertheless, he was still a Man, and though his wife and others had apparently familiarized him with the ways and means of Osanwë, he did not have the use of it himself.

She did. He feared her. Wisdom was in her eyes. He could feel the gossamer net of her probings upon the edges of his mind. He dared not open, or all would be lost in a moment! There would be no hiding from these two. Maybe taken one at a time he could have stood a chance, but united they were fearsome as Elwë Thingolo and Melian of old.

His off-hand purpose to probe the king would have to be discarded; he had not counted on so formidable a wife. His original purpose, however, could most certainly be achieved. His crimes were heinous, he knew. He had concluded quite early in this interview that he would of necessity confess his crimes with all the remorse he could bring to bear, and express willingness to pay his debt in some way. But he knew that these two, or at least she, would see through any shallow playact. It would be necessary to see his own deeds as would Thranduil, Elrond, and all those others who did not really understand the torment he had endured.

Maegeleb stopped and took notice. Just then a fissure, 'infinitessimal' as Roy Edwards would say, had revealed itself, a crack in the mental defenses of these two: Arwen Undomiel was the daughter of Elrond, who had gone over Sea. She had chosen this Man instead of Immortality; and it was a pain to her. He would find some way, most subtle, to both prick and suage that wound at once, so as to seem compassionate. It would have to be done most carefully, and the benefits of such a ploy ... what would they be? Why, a failure of animosity between the Queen and himself. Not friendship; that he would not ask, but if played right, he could turn her sympathy to him, for after all, were not their plights somewhat akin?

But he said naught of it for now, biding his time. Let the younglings of Lorien speak first, play out all their cards while he held his back, waiting, biding.
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