(Galadriel is fairly used to getting mail but she'll be a bit shocked to receive any in Thedas. For any notes, missives, letters, or other communications.)
Despite her ease speaking out on the network, Galadriel was hesitant to send runners with her transcribed thoughts. It would have been a simple matter to return the note with a letter of her own but, instead, she had elected to come to his door in person.
She arrives after dusk, shrouded in a cloak of her own making, hidden in plain sight. She lowers the hood as she knocks but refrains from drawing back the whole of the fabric as she awaits an answer.
Alacruun isn't quite expecting a guest to come knocking at the door. He keeps to himself mostly and does not entertain guests. He thinks it's one of Adalia's friends, which is probably why there's a slight look of surprise on his face when he swings open the door.
"Good evening. You would be...?"
He hasn't seen her in person, but he will likely recognize her voice.
Oddly, she had not expected a Qunari, but her surprise is short lived. The race he appears is far less important than the mark on his hand. It is that which binds them.
"I am called Galadriel," she replies and, as she pushes back her cloak, produces the note he had delivered to her. "If this is not an opportune time, I can return again."
"Ah-" Alacruun's eyebrows shoot straight up for a moment. He really is surprised - he'd expected a note in reply, not a visit. But still, Adalia is out for the moment, so now is as good a time as any. He steps back and clears his (large) bulk from the doorway.
"Please, come in. I'm afraid I wasn't expecting... guests."
His side of the room is strewn with notes and papers and borrowed books. Someone has been burning the midnight oil.
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She arrives after dusk, shrouded in a cloak of her own making, hidden in plain sight. She lowers the hood as she knocks but refrains from drawing back the whole of the fabric as she awaits an answer.
no subject
"Good evening. You would be...?"
He hasn't seen her in person, but he will likely recognize her voice.
no subject
"I am called Galadriel," she replies and, as she pushes back her cloak, produces the note he had delivered to her. "If this is not an opportune time, I can return again."
no subject
"Please, come in. I'm afraid I wasn't expecting... guests."
His side of the room is strewn with notes and papers and borrowed books. Someone has been burning the midnight oil.
"I am Alacruun, but I think you know that..."