[Amanaduial the archer]

“Did Lord Celembrimbor not speak to you concerning the Three Rings?”

Though the question was sensitively asked, there was still no concealing the surprise that tinged Maegisil's voice - and that, along with the assumption in the wording of the question, made Narisiel shoot the other a very sharp look. But his features told her immediately that he was not mocking her, far from it: he was simply inquiring. And the surprise in his voice, she realised, mirrored her own - her own shock at how far she had distanced herself from her lord.

"I haven't spoken much with him recently- that is, he hasn't called upon- or rather, I haven't..." Narisiel trailed away, folding her arms and shrugging as she faltered to a halt. Raising an eyebrow at Maegisil, the craftswoman smiled ruefully. "I'm making excuses," she stated simply. Trying again, she said carefully, "No. No, Lord Celebrimbor has not spoken to me of the Three - or not of what finally became of them."

Maegisil's grey eyes studied the other's face silently, but even through his silence, Narisiel knew what he was going to suggest yet. As he opened his mouth to speak, she butted in quickly. "Maegisil...Celebrimbor is expecting you tonight?"

"I am getting later as we speak, indeed," the other replied with a smile. His face regained some of its solemnity as he continued, "Lord Celebrimbor does not see many of his counselors regularly any more - but that simply means that he has plenty of time in which a meeting could be arranged."

The statement had all the subtlety of a labelled brick thrown through a window, and its point was not missed by Narisiel. Unfolding her arms and wiping her hands nervously on her apron as her eyes darted to the window, the words thrown to the edge of her lips but refusing to spill over. It had been long since she had spoken to Celebrimbor, indeed, but...well, maybe this was not such a bad thing. If there was talk of the Rings, if Maegisil, one who had not been involved in the work of those innermost forges nearly a century ago, knew of them and spoke of them as if they may be of concern to the smith... perhaps it was better if she kept herself and her family out of such matters. She had her husband, her forge and responsibilities, and her very own, most precious jewel: Artamir. Narisiel knew the power of the rings: if they were to go off, the repercussions...

You are one of Lord Celebrimbor's advisors - as such, you have responsibilities, no matter what.

Narisiel sighed, her eyes still fixed distantly on Celebrimbor's regal dwelling, biting her lip slightly. No matter what he concerns she could not escape that truth. Coming to a decision, Narisiel turned suddenly back to Maegisil who immediately turned his gaze to the cupboards in a badly concealed cover of the fact that he had been curiously watching her.

"A necklace it shall be then." A new edge of decisiveness leant itself to her voice as she turned back to business matters. "I will draw up a few rough designs orf ideas that I think appropriate and will deliver them to you as soon as I can, either through my apprentice or...well, or by hand." Maegisil smiled slightly and Narisiel returned it, nodding thoughtfully. "And when I am up at the palace, who knows what else I may get done?"

Maegisil bowed his head formally, still smiling with a decided air of satisfaction that Narisiel knew was not entirely to do with her agreeing to take his commision. "Good evening, Narisiel."

Narisiel ducked her own head slightly and bid the other goodnight as he turned out of her forge. Turning back to her 'box of tricks', the smith let her hands stray absently into one of the boxes that Maegisil's fingers had run through earlier. The dying sunlight as it faded behind the high walls of the city glinted through the luscious gems within, the very essence of the sun seeming to swirl inside the fine, beautifully cut rubies. With a smile, Narisiel lifted her hand a little, letting the rubies fall through her fingers until only one of the tiny jewels remained, glowing from within from the borrowed light from the sun - and even as she watched, as she sun sank lower, the light died suddenly, leaving only the blood-red teardrop resting on her palm.

The elf's smile vanished. Replacing the ruby quickly, she hastily locked the cupboard up, tidied her work away and made for home.