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He remembered the look on the messenger’s face. It had been pure terror, his face devoid of almost all its natural colour. Celebrimbor was still speaking at that point, and Maegisil had turned to the elf with anger when he felt a hand on his arm. The messenger was a guard, on duty at the city gates, and it looked like he had ran all the way to the city’s center, the palace. He breathlessly informed Maegisil of the reason for his urgency and fright, and the counselor then understood. Someone had arrived at the city gate: a man, a dark one…and the leader of the dread army that would bring Sauron’s wrath to Eregion.
Maegisil had left his wife frightened and worried for her husband's safety, and though he had wanted to stay with her and share in her tears, he knew he had a duty to his people, one that Lord Celebrimbor had up till this point neglected. He knew it was perhaps hypocritical to think this, as he had done very little for his people, and had not been strong enough to stand up to his lord and tell him what he was doing wrong. Perhaps he would have saved lives if he had done so. The thought of this frightened him to no end, and he quickly returned his mind to focus on the situation at hand.
This man who had arrived was truly an emissary from the Dark Lord. Only the Servant of Morgoth would have been able to enforce even the pretense of control over such a being. “I will pave over your city with the blood of your people…” Those heart-wrenching words still rung in his ears as he stood before Lord Celebrimbor once again. He felt as if he were a new person, seeing the lord sitting there, but knowing that Celebrimbor was not truly there anymore… He felt very alone, and prayed that Narisiel would arrive as he wished she would. He had sent a guard to find her on his way back to the palace with his new and unfortunate acquaintance, and though he did not expect her to come, he hoped that she would want to hold on to some scraps of loyalty to Celebrimbor in order to help Eregion. She had her family to take care of, though. It was not her job to baby-sit a lord as well.
“Milord, here are the emissaries sent by the Dark Lord to parley with you,” he muttered, now finding himself disgusted by formalities concerning the elf-lord.
Celebrimbor looked even more disheveled than how Maegisil had left him before. It seemed that speaking to his people, despite his past charisma and rhetoric, was now a tasking experience for him. The counselor did not feel any sympathy for his lord, though. He had run out of that feeling some time ago.
“Ah, then we shall hear what Mordor has to say.”
The elf-lord still sounded like one who has given up all hope, though now there was a new component to his attitude: the pretense of indifference. He was one who pretended he had accepted his defeat, denying the fact that he could not accept his defeat and ignoring emotions that were too strong and too deep for him to control. The dreadfully imposing presence in the room did not help Celebrimbor’s situation.
The man…no, the creature…looked down at the Lord of Eregion and skipped any formalities. It seemed that he would have spat on the elf if he did not have a certain amount of dignity that separated him from the majority of Sauron’s minions, the mindless orcs. It was obvious by his escort that he was at least smart enough to know that orcs were not the most trustworthy creatures, nor really worthy of anything. Maegisil held the man in almost as low regards, but he was not above speaking to him…not that he had much of a choice. This dark one was used to having his demands met, and Maegisil knew that he was not in the position to outright refuse them. He was now only afraid that Celebrimbor might go even farther than that. How ready was he to declare himself defeated?
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