""You need not apologize." Inwë said kindly before tilting her head and taking a curious step forward, "Why would someone want to attack you?" she asked. This man did not appear to be any sort of threat—"
“Jealousy… anger… idiocy,” he listed a few reasons “-why else?”
""I am sorry that pain was caused to you, but what use is locking me up? I am not a famous hobbit, sir. I'm just a simple gardener. I wish you no ill will, honest," she finished speaking, a sorrowful look on her face. This changed to fear as he moved closer to the bars, and she shuffled back slightly. "Sins? I have done /nothing/, sir! Honestly, I was just looking for shelter, just shelter.""
The man felt a tinge of pity. Small… but there. He unlocked the cell and opened it wide “-leave this place, run as fast as your tiny legs will carry you… and spread word. Nobody trespasses on Orthac, under penalty of death… do you understand?”
""M-my name is Inwë," she stammered, taking a step back unsure if this man would attack her, "I am sorry, I-I was only passing through—" she raised her hands to show she was unarmed as she took another step back. She had not meant to anger him so.."
“Inwë… I see,” he sheathed the dagger once more, and stood as straight as he could “-my apologies…” he cleared his throat “-I get many attackers,”
Somewhere, in a quiet corner of a tavern, a certain little Hobbit is sitting with a half-emptied mug of ale. She’s already in a fairly woozy state due to what she’s already consumed, but refuses to move until it is finished.
Poppy’s face paled, and a sick feeling came across her at his words. Surely they could not be true. Surely he was fooling her.
That, or it was the drink. Yes. It had to be the drink. It was causing her to hear the most foolish of things.
“Edeneth would never agree to that,” she said finally, fingering at her mug. “Ever.”
“Ask her yourself,” he said with a hissing chuckle “-she was extactic to become the Dark Lady… and soon…” he leaned forward “-she’ll be as corrupt as I”
""I mean you no harm!" Inwë said with a start, stepping out into the stone corridor, her emerald eyes assessing the man before her, "I heard voices and... Forgive me, I meant not to startle you." She added bowing her head"
“Who are you..” the man spoke low and dangerous, slowly unsheathing his black dagger.