Fingon rather suspects an influx of angry visitors, though he doesn't really know why. It's not like he did anything, or anything. And he knows he's right, too. This is just going to make it a little harder to prove it.
At any rate, he's now sitting in his room, flipping idly through a book and his expression set on his default, lately - vaguely
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But if Fingon needs to have some fresh air and a calm, reasonable, objective conversation, he'll be on the front lawn, training.
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But he does come striding out, eventually, wearing his sword again. After having tried Tyelko's door - again - and finding it locked - again.
This is really not helping.
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He's not really interrupting himself - but he knows he is not alone.
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He might be there when Fingon returns, though, probably relaxing with a book.
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"Good evening." Tersely. But not angry at him, at least! Just...everyone else.
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"What's eating at you?"
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Note how unsurprised he is.
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A pause. "And I need to talk to him."
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