Disclaimer: This fic was written solely for the enjoyment of the author and the readers, not for monetary gain. It is not intended to infringe on any rights belonging to the Tolkien Estate, New Line Cinema, or any other license holder of Tolkien-based intellectual property.
Nov 8: Oaths (Seventh Age, 1789, Cadiz, Spain)
"I'm sorry to leave you here to entertain yourself, Magnus; but the dinner is only for members," Tomas apologized as he attempted to arrange his cravat. "Master Rogier asked if you'd accept an invitation for initiation."
His dark-haired guest shook his head, crossing the room to push his host's hands away from the silk. As his scarred, deft fingers plucked it into perfect form, he replied, "I truly appreciate the honor, but I will swear no more oaths." As Tomas put his plumed hat on his head, Magnus looked down at his scarred hand and whispered, "They bring only grief."
A/N: Somehow inspired by my very recent re-reading of Katherine Kurtz's TWO CROWNS FOR AMERICA-how it managed to give me a scene with a Feanorian, I'll never know!
