Dramthin, it's lovely that you believe us to be friends and want to open my eyes to what you believe to be trouble headed my way. But I promise you, I am no spring chicken. I know what I am gaming at here. I knew what I was getting at when I made the deal with the Lord of the Winter Wind originally, and I entered into that deal wholeheartedly.
It was an easy choice, given that I couldn't bear to watch Elle cry anymore because some finicky fae had cursed Cumlo to forget her. Tell me you wouldn't have agreed to do the same, rather than watch her come to you with red-rimmed watery eyes asking you for advice. How do you tell a girl to forgoe love? You don't. I may not believe in the emotion's use, but something needed to be done. So I drank from the cup and I went to the only fae that would hear me given the season. I cannot say I regret the choice.
What the Lord needs a bride for, and what her "job" in that role will be I cannot say. I was of the opinion that those negotiations would be made and agreed upon once the Lord made his choice. I am not worried, for I am a wizened creature and suspect that my slew of dealings with the fae will manage to provide a deal that is not only ironclad but suitable to both parties involved.
Sure, he's cruel. Cold. These days, I'd say that makes us suitable for one another. I've learned much given my time within his walls, and I think that this disposition suits me.
I think it strange that it was amusing to you before time began to run thin to call me his "consort", but when I planned to formalize any kind of arrangement you were suddenly all cries of accusation and caution. Why is that? Is it okay for me to "consort" with a fae, but not to engage in some sort of relationship with one? How is -that- any safer? Why suddenly is there a problem? As I see it, the dynamic between the Lord and I wouldn't have changed, it would just have been re-titled.
But I have retracted my offer for the while and will allow him to consider Marcena's offer, which was freely given. I have offered to broker the meeting, and even for you to come along. What more do you want from me?
Every creature plays by rules. We things of mortal fluff play by several sets, it is true.
But how does that make us better? I would not count being unpredictable as a complete strength in matters such as these. Emotions, morals, spirit -- these things are wavering. Changing. Sometimes I think we'd be better off without them, especially when it comes to dealings that require strict rulings and adherence to those rules.
I was not mocking or attacking you, Hartsboon. I would think you'd be wise enough to judge me better. I think we're all aware that I cannot harm a flea, and I will note that I was merely illustrating the fact that love has never once passed my lips during these discussions, despite your and Lyddia's attempts to make it about such. Love is useless, especially in this discussion, as this is about negotiations and politics -- too cool a climate for something that claims to be as firey-hot as love is supposed to be. And I know something of your views on love and Elven courtship. You're not the only one capable of eavesdropping.
I cannot keep repeating how this is business. Not love. I am beginning to feel like I am not being heard. It makes me irksome.
Well... more irksome than usual.
Are you soothed yet?
What can I tell you that will make this so?
Shall I hold your hand and pat your hair soothingly and promise it will be okay? Would you come along to the castle of cold, blusting wind and ice and see this arrangement for yourself? Do you want I should get it in writing? In blood? A pound of flesh?
Honestly Dramthin. You've done nothing but level accusations and filibuster on the subject.
What would you have me do?
What are our other options?
How can I make you happy, because obviously that is indeed what this is all about.