Eorling Mead Hall

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

He hoped he looked far less foolish than he felt. As he picked up pieces of his broken ego, he tried to think of words and was at a loss. No, he thought... I look exactly as foolish as I feel. His bright eyes beseeching and without the devilish gleam so often present, he spoke quietly, still balanced upon his knee. He had not yet stood when the lady had so calmly swept him from his mooring. All the better, he groaned inwardly, or I may have fallen and then what would she think of me? He was glad Saeryn hadn't witnessed this. He shuddered to think of the teasing he would receive if she'd been here.

"I wish to thank my sister for a deed she would prefer remain thankless. I've no idea how. I'd come to beg of you advice and in return, offer my service as your escort today as you explore what delights the fair has for you."

He tried fruitlessly to think of more words to say... something to impress the lady, or to sweep her off of her feet. He would have settled for a cool insult, even, yet nothing came forth. His full concentration was spent on the proper pronunciation of what had formerly been his rather large vocabulary.