|
Mithalwen felt a little unkind since this man was clearly so sensitive about his reduced circumstances but really it was impossible not to. She hoped he would forgive her for what she was about to do. But he too was know so helpless with mirth to object.
"Stop rubbing at it you will make it " she commanded, and quicker than mortals could register she had swept away the remains of the cake with a clean knife "forgive me Tar-Corondir" she said and threw her own glass of white wine over the stain. This stopped Snaveling's laughter but did not restore speech. She handed him a table napkin "soak up the wine with this and it should lift the mark - if not we will try steam later" .
Mithalwen then turned to the bride. "Mistress Zimzaran, my attendance at you wedding was as unexpected for me as it is no doubt for you, and I have no gift to give you but this - it is of my own making". Mithalwen pressed in to Zimzi's hand the necklace of a single pearl set in finely wrought gold, " May every day of your lives be blessed". Mithalwen withdrew asquick as she had moved forward , as she passed Snaveling he heard - or did the words arrive in his mind silently " I would hear your tale when you have time, Tar Corondir - it seems more intriguing by the moment."
|