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[wouldnottakeit]

Faramir has thus far managed to steer clear of any mansion related drama and hijinks, spending his time in books instead and out of doors if he can help it. But now it is January and the weather is quite frankly a bit miserable. Cold is no longer one of his favorite things after the Black Breath. So for now he has found a comfortable seat in the

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[fairy_fingers]

There's a young lady nearby, pouring over a medieval book - the Golden Legend, in fact. Angelique is merely distracting herself before she returns to her quiet wait. She is much too shy to approach anyone, but she will be sweet and drama-free, should Faramir wish for conversation.

[wouldnottakeit]

Faramir does indeed enjoy drama free conversation when it prevents itself, but unfortuantely he is poring over his tome just as avidly as the young lady is her's. Perhaps if one of them were to look up...? But it probably won't be Faramir first. He's pretty far gone in his book at this point.

[fairy_fingers]

Angelique is prone to day-dreams usually inspired by the Golden Legend. She's in fact read this book so many times before that she probably doesn't quite need it to tell herself the stories. Mainly, the engravings are what brings her back to the book every time - they inspire her embroidery designs.

Whenever he looks up, Faramir will find her staring dreamily into open space, in his direction. She will be sporting has a small little smile. Her hand is bruised - that's why she's not sowing today. But unless he brings it up, she won't mention it. It's not that big of a deal, really. Just a little injury obtained in good sport.

[OOC: And I'm off to bed! Good night when you get there. I'll be tagging tomorrow. ^^

Also, welcome back!]

[wouldnottakeit]

When he does look up and catch sight of her looking in his direction, his first is that she is, for some unknown reason, looking at him. It confuses him for the slightest moment before he decides it must just be a momentary distraction of the mind. "You seem most engrossed with what you read, my lady."

[thenotsofair]

Hi! Nice to see you around again. :D

...not quite an Elven Princess, perhaps. We're working on it. However, Celegorm has had an eventful couple months, and is currently in a strange place, but not necessarily a bad one. He's not sure what kind of place it is yet. But has wandered into the library, and there is a strange sort of - well, not quite affection for this particular Edain. But, well, they had a good first meeting. And it's nice to meet someone who knows him and isn't - uh, crazy judgmental. You know how it is.

"--good day," though mildly enough, with plenty of opportunity, should Faramir wish, to avoid a conversation.

[wouldnottakeit]

Faramir tears his gaze away from the First Age when spoken to and replies in kind, smiling ever so slightly in that understated, lordly way of his. "Good day, my lord." After all, he likes Celegorm even if he was one of the villains when he and Boromir played Silmaril quest as boys.

[thenotsofair]

Oh, ow. Well, not knowing Faramir's thoughts, simply inclines his head, slightly, and wanders over, pretty clearly tired - but not as melancholy as he is sometimes. Far from it. "It's been a time. Lost yourself in here?"

[wouldnottakeit]

"I am afraid I have," he replies with a small chuckle, the smile growing. "Long have I known my skills as a ranger did not extend to manouvering in libraries, and those who know me well would be the first to tell you 'tis indeed no difficult task to lose me so."

[fallenlomion]

Because we like throwing long dead Elves at this one. Maeglin has been skulking, a little bit, though he would not put it that way, of course. Avoiding his mother, most likely avoiding other relatives as well, because things have not been going well as late. And he's starting to brood about Idril again. Brooding is something that Maeglin is very, very good at.

However, he does need a break sometimes, and may come wandering in the direction of Faramir's corner with a heavy book of his own under his arm, distracted and therefore not aware that (what he thinks of as) his chair is already occupied.

[wouldnottakeit]

If the approaching Elf isn't aware of Fararmir, then it's most likely that Faramir unfortunately is unaware of him as well. After all, he is currently rather deeply engrossed in utterly fascinating history of the second quarter of the First Age in the original Quenya and very little will make him look up without cause.

It may get unpleasant though if Maeglin attempts sitting in 'his' chair.

[fallenlomion]

Maeglin is grudgingly impressed, but he is not showing it, Meta-ly, that is. Real Maeglin will, fortunately, notice Faramir in time and stop, in some surprise, giving him a bit of a look as though he might...get up and move, or something, just by being looked at.

Maeglin is not extraordinarily comfortable with Men. They all look kind of like Tuor to him.

"...excuse me."

[wouldnottakeit]

Faramir slowly glances up from his book, fully prepared to give the intruder a look in return. After all, this is his seat and he's been in it for a while and he's not going to leave just because someone comes up and... Something about Maeglin makes him pause though. Much like Denethor, Faramir has the gift of seeing into the hearts of others and what he glimpses -even just momentarily- in the Elf freezes his blood.

On the outside though, he is still doing an admirable job of staying polite. "Can I help you, my lord?"

[Hope Faramir's flash of intuition wasn't too out of bounds for you. And I hope I haven't gone and missed any... I don't know, plot of Maeglin all of a sudden being not bad or something.]