milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Forges smell. It cannot be helped. So do those who work in them. This, also, cannot be helped.

Therefore, it is probably in your better interests not to ask why Gimli (who has apparently decided on a hobbit-sized breakfast today) does not particularly reek of iron and smoke right now. You might find out.

Other things, however, are fair game.

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He raises an eyebrow and nods, feigning interest.

"Once that," He gestures at the window as well. "is done, there will be no world left to rebuild. I do wish you luck though. Enjoy your delusions."

"Is that so? I suppose you know more than the Valar, then?" The dwarf's eyebrows go up again. "It will be starting over from the beginning, thank you. Creating something entirely anew takes a lot of clearing away."

He chuckles. "So I imagine. So you approve of this destruction then?"

"Everything ends, lad. Whether I approve of it or not."

His lips curl very slightly.

"You are correct, monsieur." He says dryly.

"'Course I am," says the dwarf severely. He seems to think this answer enough for the man, who after all has rather irritated him.

He raises an eyebrow and looks the dwarf over critically. "Is that often the case then?" It is apparent that he finds this rather difficult to fathom.

"More often than it is for you, I'd reckon," the dwarf mutters under his breath. Beyond that he gives no answer.

Montparnasse places a hand, mockingly, over his heart. "You hurt me, monsieur. With the truth." He snorts once more and snickers to himself. Taking another sip of his water. What is it with the cruel pretty boys and drinking water?

"What in blazes does that word mean, anyway?"

"Similar to mister or sir. Respectful, I assure you." Of course he does not mean it. *Ostensibly false smile.*

His eyes narrow again, but he nods. "Respectful is as respectful does," says the dwarf. "And fair words may hide foul intent. But I think, for now, that I shall believe you- as far as the meaning, at least."

"Very wise of you, Sir." Not that it was actually wise to trust Parnasse. Ever. "Thus far I have no intentions, foul or fair. You may relax."

Trust, and believe, are two different things. One might believe Saruman when he spoke of the might of Orthanc, and yet not trust him.

"I need no such permission, thank you."

"As you say." He nods.

"It has been interesting but I must be going now. Mayhap we will speak again." He stands, offers one last trademark smirk, and walks away without further acknowledgment.

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