Bare feet padded across the carpeted stone floor with some determination, until evidently arriving at their destination paused at a door. The pair belonged, of course, to His Majesty, draped still in the ease of morning in a fluttering muslin dressing robe, hair unbound about him.
Orodreth had stopped to listen for any signs of life beyond the door - was the prince yet up? He was not yet familiar with Dior's habits. Still, that morning Orodreth was unwilling to simply wait for him to be fetched when his company was wanted.
In two stark knocks, he then announced his presence behind the door.
"Dior? Are you awake?" He paused again, ears straining to pick up something in vain. The gilded door would not yield the privacy within. "I have something I would like to show you."
Inside, Dior was at his writing desk, which had come with the set of fine chambers intended for...well, everyone assumed they were for the king's consort, though why Felagund had had them built when he had no consort remained a mystery. Nevertheless, Dior had been glad to see the fine custom-built desk among the furnishings, for he spent a great deal of time every day writing. Today was no exception, and he had taken advantage of a golden ray of morning sunlight to work without unduly straining his mortal eyes.
(Always he remained diligent about taking care of his body, as no one yet knew if it was built for eternity, as Elu Thingol's was, and any sign of weakness lessened the confidence of Doriath in its prince...and now, Nargothrond, too.)
Recognizing the distinctive voice behind the door, and having dismissed all servants for the morning while he worked, he rose to answer the knock himself. He smiled and bowed when he beheld the King of Nargothrond.
"What a pleasant surprise," said Dior, clasping his hands behind his back. "Please, come in, unless this something you wish to show me is elsewhere."
