Marriage

Khyus, the visiting prince from the Caru-lûth, questions the Angmarin Muirne about the expectations of marriage between the Trév Gállorg and the Dunlendings.

The very soft sound of footsteps could be heard throughout the large room, pacing back and forth, once and again. "Upon the last time I was here in Aldburg, I recall vividly your daughter. She was too young for my tastes just then...only just beginning to blossom." He spoke carefully, in a calculated manner. His voice was deep and though not terribly rough, one could certainly hear that he was no longer a young man. 

The bright, late Summer sun hung in the sky above them, wisps of cloud trailing through the great blue expanse. A cool breeze rustled through the leaves of the apple trees nearby, and outside the orchard fields of bright flowers swayed gently. Butterflies fluttered around the flowers, and flocks of birds danced across the sky.

(( This letter is tucked between pages of Lisbeths diary it is written with manly un orderly writing, and accompanied with few pages of documents))

Lisbeth dear, my wife,

Marriage is somewhat of a touchy subject with this elf. He keeps his private life just that, private. Even should he decide to court someone, it is not something he would openly advertise. Lamaenon will occasionally lie about his marital state to ward off unwanted suitors, for he currently holds no interest for courting or marriage.(He rarely lies otherwise, if at all.) He took up this habit when an elleth from Lothlorien grew a fancy for him and continued to persue his affections for many years after he had made his disinterest known.

The smell of fish is like a double edged sword. When the fish is still fresh enough it can be a good sniff yet when it is rotten, you will be unpleasantly surprised. Clyde swept some sweat of his brow when the last smudges of fish were of his cutting board. The middle-aged stallholder might not have the best place in Bree near the Stone Quarters yet he couldn't complain.