Talkale strode back and forth frantically, his usually immaculate hair looking untidy where he had been running a hand through it. He occasionally took a sip from a crystal glass containing deep red wine. His robes made a faint rasping sound as the silks ran over each other as he moved. His movements ceased when his companion finally spoke.
“Tell me what it is that troubles you Talkale? I have never seen you so…. un-composed. It is most unlike you and it is most unbecoming. Take a drink of your wine and then a deep breath, then speak.” Atharovor watched Talkale do as he had instructed, the crystal of the glass sparkling as it caught the flickering light of the lamps that filled the library.
“How could it have come to this? I know that at times he is slow to reach a state of understanding, yet it appears that he has taken leave of his senses!”
“Who?” probed Atharovor.
Talkale narrowed his eyes slightly at Atharovor, then checked around the library to ensure they would not be overheard. “This is between us alone, agreed?”
“Oh, of course Talkale. I am a scholar, not a drunken gossip. Speak and let me hear the truth of it.”
“Lord Parnard of course. He seems to find reason to blame me for every misfortune that befalls him. I should not speak ill of his of course, for I have nothing but respect for the position that he holds.”
“But do you respect him?”
“Respect? Perhaps once I did, but his actions are beyond the pale Atharovor. Why, this evening he threatened to strike me, to have me killed, to send me to the Hithaeglir… He even called me an idiot! Can you believe that? I can think of no colloquialism suitable for such an irony. He is not alone in his madness either you realise?”
“No? Have you been receiving threats from others now as well?” Atharovor settled back into his chair, giving the appearance of thoroughly enjoying the distress of Talkale. “Tell me more!”
“Well, not threats exactly, but the Lady Danel has been most unpleasant and not her usual self at all.”
“What have you said this time Talkale? Sometimes those of little wit will take offence at a swift tongue. I am sure it will pass.”
“Will it? They seem furious. It is all her fault anyway. Ruineth, do you remember that I spoke of her?”
“The one with filthy hands and a tattered leather apron? Yes, I remember that she came to you spouting some sort of nonsense and demanding to see your Ambassador.” Atharovor let out a soft chuckle. “As if you would allow such a wastrel an audience with the spokesperson of your House. The very idea is ludicrous. Anyway, what does she have to do with this?”
Talkale had been nodding along as Atharovor spoke. “Exactly, you understand at least. Anyway, it would appear that the message about Lord Estarfin should perhaps not have been ignored and turned away. Would you believe this, but Ruineth tracked Parnard down to the Hall of Fire…”
“Drinking?” asked Atharovor.
“Probably. Anyway, Parnard told me that she struck him!”
“She did not!” exclaimed Atharovor.
“Yes, she did! She had the look of a troublemaker to her, yet I would not think her capable of such a thing. Of course, if she is companions with Estarfin, then perhaps such brutish behaviour is to be expected.”
“And that is why Parnard’s humours were so misplaced? Did he blame you for her striking him? Understandable, but an overreaction surely? As Ambassador, he should not have to suffer such things – it could be seen to reflect poorly on him and by extension your whole House.”
“If that was his reason I would understand his ire! Yet he seemed not even to think about that. He was too concerned with the warning that she carried to him, that same warning that she had almost shouted at me.” Talkale tried to imitate Ruineth’s voice “Estarfin has gone to the mountains alone to fight the goblins there. He’s been gone for too long and I am worried about him. Let me speak to that snake you call Ambassador immediately!”
Atharovor smirked. “Such manners these folks have! Anyway, Parnard was concerned about that message?”
“Very! As was Danel, although I do not see what is so urgent about it. I have told Parnard before, no good will come of further association with Estarfin. No good at all. Perhaps it would have been better if he had just disappeared into the snows.”
Atharovor looked a little shocked. “You cannot mean that Talkale? What has he ever done to you?”
“Nothing. He has never even spoken to me, unless you count a dismissive grunt as speech? Perhaps his type do… No, I do not wish death upon him, I just with that Parnard would see the foolishness of further association with him. You know your history as well as I do Atharovor. His type is dangerous, unpredictable, and unrepentant. They are relics of an age that is lost to the bloody pages of history and sometimes I wish there was no trace of them except tidy script upon a page. Caranthir, really…” Talkale shook his head at the idea.
“You think that the Ambassador’s actions are foolish by choosing to be associated with him? Some think that the actions of the Noldor were a thing to be celebrated – the glories of war and all that.”
“Glories of war? The slaying of innocents? That is not the work of heroes but of monsters. And I have never heard a word of regret from him, from any of them. But Parnard will not hear a word against him of course, neither apparently will Danel. They are both blind to the truth. Well, perhaps one more than the other.” Talkale smiled slightly as his cruel joke, although Atharovor looked none the wiser.
“So they were angry that you do not let any filthy smith have an immediate audience with the Ambassador of your House? Have they taken leave of their senses?”
Talkale nodded. “It would seem so. If Parnard did not wish to have to deal with every minor complaint, every tedious visitor then why would he have granted me the position he did? Estarfin chose his own fate and I thought it in the interest of the House to overlook the warning that Ruineth carried. Perhaps I am not suited to serve him after all, if he will not carry himself as he should.”
Atharovor gestured to the empty crystal glass that was still in Talkale’s hand. “At least Sogadan is letting you take glasses from the Hall now!”
Talkale looked unimpressed at the attempt to divert the conversation. “No, I had to take this when his attention was elsewhere. If you do not wish to speak of this terrible series of events further, then I will take up no more of your time.” Talkale turned on his heel and began striding towards the door.
“Talkale! Talkale, come back. Talkale…” Atharovor shook his head as Talkale slammed the door behind him. “Fool.”
***
Taking a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his temper, Talkale decided upon his next course. Parnard and Danel were both too stubborn to reason with and they did not understand his purpose. Who then could he speak to? Atharovor had been his best hope, as Elvealin had appeared more concerned with her swan than with his poor treatment at their hands. “Ruineth.” He murmured the name to himself, then set out at a trot to find the newest in a series of troublemakers and rule breakers he had found himself having to deal with.
