This morning there seems to be another new arrival, coming striding out of the woods holding a sword and looking fairly ticked off. He opens his mouth to say something, but the cry dies as he stares at the Mansion. Back at the woods, then at the Mansion again, an expression of "where the hell am I?" beginning to dawn on his face. The new arrival is
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She really, really hates that one. No forgiveness for this Feanorion - he has no millenias of regret, and no gaping chasm to atone for his sins.
Galadriel is trying not to scowl. It's not really working.
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That one. He's not particularly fond of her either, if it helps.
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"You've come here straight from battle. Your brothers will be glad, no doubt."
Damn. Just when she had a sort of peace with Mae. Damn, damn, damn.
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"Yes." He almost adds, 'and where have you been?' but decides against it. Then he registers the rest of it. "They're here? For that matter, where is 'here?'" Eyes sharpening. He doesn't really like this.
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"--Celegorm?"
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Celegorm notices him in the same moment and turns to stride over to him. "Maglor. What is this" Explanation, please?
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"What kind of a question is that?"
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But it's still someone. "Celebrimbor," not quite curtly, still examining most of what can be seen. "What are you doing here?"
Because clearly one of them is supposed to be here. And it's not you, silly.
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A little less curtly. Something's a little off here.
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"You're dead!"
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"Why are you here?"
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"Finrod." A touch warily.
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Silence, it ensues. What does one say to a cousinthing who, last time you checked, was quite dead and mostly that way because of you? We're fairly sure there isn't etiquette for this.
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