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Book Description Bloomsbury. Seller Inventory ZZN. Book Description Bloomsbury , Book Description Bloomsbury, Seller Inventory M Never used!. Seller Inventory P Seller Inventory NEW He'll pop off in a decade or five and we can snatch the Ring then. If we follow your suggestion of tossing him bodily into the Orodruin, we will only start another war. I, for one, am loathe to enter into more conflict at this point; all the gild has been scraped off of my armor as it is.
Get in touch with me once you've calmed down and we'll see what we can do about the situation. I'm sorry that your father's dead, but whose fault is it that he went charging up against the forces of Barad-Dur chin first? Face up to it -- your lineage is about as royal as litter of kittens born in the palace kitchens, and the fact that those Silvan yokels were impressed by Oropher's strutting about doesn't make you king of anything. I mean, honestly, I could declare myself King of that Anthill by the Relief Trenches and no one could refute it, but I have the good taste not to.
All right, that's the final straw. Enjoy finishing the clean-up here without us ignorant rustics to provide the labor. May you and your mortal cronies come to fully enjoy the fruits of your folly.
PS: If you ever come East of the Great Forest River, I will be sure to introduce your backside to the toe of my exceptionally kingly boot, you arrogant, Noldor-reared pup! I believe that I may have been a bit hasty with my words in our last correspondence.
I was hoping that we two might meet in Imladris and speak of things that ought to have been put to rights on the slopes of Orodruin. I hear that Isildur is easy prey for the "Look over there! I must conclude that your message-carriers are just as unreliable as you are if you have not gotten the news by this time. It seems that The Last Alliance's attempts at clean-up were as laughable as its "victory" over Sauron; less than two months gone, Isildur was mugged by a band of Orcs less than four days from my kingdom, and now the Ring is missing.
I have no doubt that we shall recover it soon and finish what was started in Mordor but, in the meantime, I believe you are far overdue an "I told you so".
As to our meeting to work out our differences, do not suppose that my messengers are as inept as yours. It was with great joy that I heard that your twin boys had reached their twelfth year. I can recall when my own children were so young, full of boundless energy, always underfoot, and never quiet for a moment.
It is a very special age indeed, so I put as much thought as I could into choosing their presents. In the end, I came to the conclusion that only a selection of percussion instruments from the merchants of Esgaroth would do, as I've heard that your folk have a great love of music and song. I'm sure boys as talented as your own will learn to play them correctly in only a few decades.
PS: You needn't bother writing back; I'm sure I'll be able to hear the grinding of your teeth in the deepest chambers of my keep. The most extraordinary thing happened just this evening. Upon the outskirts of Imladris, I met a man dressed all in black, smelling of sulphur, and muttering about werewolf hair on his robes. We struck up a conversation which I will not recount to you, as finding sufficient words of few syllables might well take another age and have other matters to attend to.
The gist of it, however, was that he was looking for suitable land for a summer dwelling. I pointed him towards Greenwood. PS: Your "royal" father has commanded me to pass along his greetings under pain of something called "The Barrel Song" should I refuse. I don't want to know, I truly don't. I cannot say how much I enjoyed the trade negotiations and my stay in Mirkwood -- oh, excuse me: Greenwood; I have no idea how that name could have found its way onto all of the maps in this region.
I regret to inform you, however, that there was a small incident with Vilya as we left your fair kingdom. That little stream you like to fish in is now the best cure for insomnia in all of Arda No need to thank me; I wish I could have done more.
I have had just about enough of this As if the all-night drum-solos my sons insist upon were not enough, your sire's running commentary on my family tree threatens to drive me into madness! Either cease this pointless feud with my family, or the consequences shall be on your head. I hear Celebrian went so far as to conjure up some thin tale about being abducted by Orcs before she set out for the Grey Havens.
Such a good woman to try and save face for her husband! So let us look at the scorecard. In my column, one wife set off for Valinor of her own accord. In yours, my father and two-thirds of my army dead for no true victory. No, I can't say that looks balanced at all. Follow TV Tropes.
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When the last dragon and the last elf break the circle,.