His Honor by Grundy  

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His Honor


Celegorm sighed.

He had no idea who had thought he was the best person for this job. They needed their head examined.

Babysitting Irissë and Artanis would have been his preferred assignment. They might be loud, rambunctious, and creative, but at least they were fun.

Instead he was stuck riding herd on a bunch of courtiers. He was supposed to mediate a quarrel. Where was Finno? Or Maitimo? They were good at this.

He was having fantasies of tying people’s shoelaces together. (At the very least.)

“Gentlemen,” he drawled. “You’ve given me much to think on. And I will. Dismissed!”


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