#liftingthecat

@liftingthecat

Now and then, Aradir didn’t really like being here. As far as he was concerned, his skills were better put to use abroad. But apparently his superiors thought differently. As an apology for thinking he was dead, HQ had given him a command here, at home, in the beautiful Surrey countryside, helping train new recruits. Usually, Captains like him weren’t given such postings, let alone people be Captains at his age- he was only a few years older than the new recruits, for goodness’ sake, and was commanding people older than him- but Aradir understood their need to apologise. This was the best way they could do that. Still, it was a little boring. Aradir spent most of his time cooking, reading or doing paperwork. To be fair to HQ, it was helping.

However, this afternoon, he had received some interesting paperwork. The new recruits would be graduating soon but one of them hadn’t done well at all- unfortunately, one of the ones who would be sent back to prison if he didn’t pass. Aradir had him waiting outside his office right now. One of his people had advised him to just let the boy go to prison, but that didn’t sit right with Aradir at all.

@liftingthecat

Jor’s new boss was waiting in the castle lobby. For a Norman castle built on Roman foundations, it was in a very good condition, well maintained. Whilst most castles that old might have the remnants of an old tower here or there, there was none of that here. The interior looked Medieval, with perhaps a touch of Tudor here or there.

“I’ll take you on a tour,” She greeted Jor warmly, “Let’s start with the hall. We host the occasional wedding now and then. Unlike most castles, the chapel is very small,” She started to take him around. Whilst most places might have a few modern refurbishments, this place didn’t, even in the tiny cafe and shop, situated in a small room off to the side of the lobby. Thankfully, though, windows had been fitted.

Upstairs, there were various antiques, going back far beyond even the Roman period. All were arranged by era in separate rooms.

"Well, there is always time to learn," he muttered, opening up the box.

Feanaro narrowed his eyes as he took the box, not liking Leucawen's tone - not that he ever did.

"I was not aware of this gift giving, 'aunt.' How uncharacteristic of you. What is this, then? Some of Manwe's droppings, perhaps, or some snake venom?"