the House of Fëanor meets Miles Vorkosigan. It's educational.
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"I'd be happy to."

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"Okay. Let's do that right away, then, because the Enemy must be nervous and I don't know how soon he'll exploit our lack of unity but I am sure that he will."

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"Agreed. Should I haul you across the lake on a grav stretcher right this minute, or go over there with the idea first?"

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"I expect they'd appreciate a warning."

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"Then I will go and warn them," he says. "In which case, should I convey a specific verbatim message, or just sort of casually announce that you want to speak to Nolofinwë at his earliest convenience?"

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"You should convey my profound apologies. The abandonment of their host is both the greatest crime of my life and the pain that currently weighs heaviest on my heart, and I do not say that lightly. We wronged them, and we regret it beyond our current capacity to convey regret, and I desire to apologize in person."

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He commits this message to memory. "All right, off I go."

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"Thank you."

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"Happy to help," he says, turning back briefly to grin at them both and radiating his extreme sincerity.

Then it's back across the lake, unusually early and in a notably good mood.

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"Hello. You're back soon; need anything?"

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"I have a message for Nolofinwë from Maitimo," he says.

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"Back in the game, is he."

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"He sat up and everything, it was a heartening sight."

(And if Maitimo wanted the message kept confidential he should have sent a different messenger, because Miles is remembering this sight in his public thoughts.)

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"I am glad he was rescued."

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"So am I. Is now a convenient time for me to deliver my message?"

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"Yes, certainly. I can guess it, though. Maitimo has decided that not being universally liked is intolerable and would like to radiate likeableness at us. Am I right?"

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("You should convey my profound apologies. The abandonment of their host is both the greatest crime of my life and the pain that currently weighs heaviest on my heart, and I do not say that lightly. We wronged them, and we regret it beyond our current capacity to convey regret, and I desire to apologize in person.")

The words flash through his thoughts, but all he says out loud is, "A plausible interpretation from your perspective."

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Well, he'll wait for it to be said aloud. They'll go on in. Nolofinwe's throne room is rather small and rather sparse but appropriately pretty. "Father, Maitimo's well. Or well enough to be dispatching messengers."

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"Hello," says Miles. "Maitimo says—"

He summons the memory again, clearer and more precise because he's doing it on purpose and lets the remembered sound flow naturally instead of hanging together in a jumbled mental cloud.

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They both listen silently.

"Well," Nolofinwe says. "He can come over."

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"I'll go get him, then," says Miles.

Tromp tromp tromp back across the lake.

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Maitimo's having a furious silent argument with his brothers. 

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Well that's... interesting.

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"Are they ready? I'll go now, if so."

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"Yes." He provides memories of their reactions while he activates the grav stretcher.

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