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Old 04-26-2011, 03:09 AM   #235
Dimturiel
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
 
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Harrenon had by now deduced that Sador was quite fond of talking – or, maybe, of hearing himself speak, Harrenon was not quite sure which. Nothing or relevance was said, however, at least not in Harrenon’s opinion. As a matter of fact, all that enthusiastic babble was giving him a headache.

Of course, that point about the Witchking’s history was quite interesting, or it would have been, had he not heard it already the day before from Bergil, who had also told him that the Witchking had not in fact killed Boromir, contrary to what the Players had believed – but then again, the Players had believed so many erroneous things, one more hardly mattered. Which of course meant that Harrenon’s time on stage as the Witchking – a favourite of his, which he most certainly did not portray as only a “bogey-man to scare the infants." as Sador thought he did. He actually preferred the role of the Witchking more than that of Legolas. Not because he was one that secretly had evil aspirations. It was only the fact that he had little to do as Legolas, only throw arrows at random and make silly noises for effect. He had actually tried once to talk to Aldarion and get him to give up the sound effects but, predictably, Aldarion would hear nothing of it, claiming that Harrenon had surely made a fool of himself while on stage in worse ways than that.

The rest of Sador’s speech, however, did not do anything but to amuse Harrenon. Well, well, who would have believed the son of none other than the Master of the Revels had such idealistic notions and such dreams! Still, Harrenon decided that it would do no harm to flatter his acquaintance a bit, now that he had the chance.

“Oh, I am sure you will do splendid in the Royal Court,” he said when Sador finally ended his speech. “You seem to have the making for things like that, or so I think. As for your questions – well, I regret to say I haven’t met too many Evles to be a good judge of them.” (As a matter of fact, Harrenon had never seen an Elf in his entire life, but he was not going to let Sador know that). “See,” he added, “There really was a performance in Thranduil’s halls, but you will have to ask Brinn – I mean, Mistress Celebrindal – for more details, since it was long before my time. Regarding that tale that bard of yours told about Legolas and his supposed beloved – well, yes, that would be fit for a play. But I am sure we could leave others to write it.”

At least Harrenon hoped that would be the case. The last thing he wanted to do was to portray a character that was mooning over some obscure Elven-maiden. Knightly-love, indeed! he thought disdainfully. Nothing made one act more absurdly than that and Harrenon wanted nothing to do with it. If he was to have romance in a play, why could it not for once be straight-forward and natural, without all the drama that made one forget about the real story?

Seeing Sador’s rather mortified look, Harrenon realised that he had inadvertently spoken the last words aloud. He smiled apologetically.

“I hold more with tales of adventure, you see,” he hastened to explain. “Nor do I find the type of relationships tuppenny bards usually love to sing of the most moving things that can be put in a tale. Why, what about friendship, then? I have found tales of friendship much more touching than all the love-stories put together. But that, of course, is just a quirky opinion of mine.”

He waved his hand carelessly, as if showing Sador that he should not pay much attention to his ramblings.
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