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A few feet from Amroth, Argeleafa stopped Ędegard and beckoned him to lower his head so she might whisper in his ear. 'I have reflected upon what you said,' said she, 'and I do know that it was Nethwador's own will to strike you. Yet you chose to hurt him with words. There was choice on either side, and I think both chose wrong. I am more disappointed in you, however, for...' Her voice slowly dropped away, a look of confusion came to her face, and her eyes speedily travelled the ground as she sought for a reason. '...for you were the first to choose ill.' She just barely saw the look of disappointment in his own eyes, for she had looked to the ground again.
She did not have the courage to tell him her real reasoning for feeling more disappointed with him. It was too difficult a thing to say. How could she say that she loved him so well that it hurt her terribly to see him behave so? How could she say that she thought him the noblest and kindest man in all of Rohan, and in lands beyond, that when she saw him behave in a way that was not noble and kind it stung her like a blow to her face? She did not have the courage to say this.
Her eyes went up to meet his again, and her pale little face was filled with great weariness, for his still held the same expression... an expression of disappointment, as if he could not understand her. Oh, sorrow of sorrows if he should not love her anymore, for some reason that she did not know. Why did he express such anger towards Nethwador, and such disappointment when she pitied the poor boy? And when she pitied Nethwador, or spoke in friendly terms of the band of Wayfarers, he looked at her in an odd manner, as if she had done something wrong. She could not understand this.
'I am sorry,' she said softly, 'I have disappointed you in some manner. I did not mean to cause you any pain or grief.' She did not allow him to speak, but began to move forward again, saying, 'Let us go to Amroth now so you might speak with him.'
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