[When he quietly and lithely moves out from the trees, he's wearing, for the first time since arriving, the simple crown of leaves and berries that arrived with him. His face is carefully neutral but his bright eyes betray a gleam of keen interest in the slight lowering of his brows. With hair a soft gold beneath the autumn red of the leaves, clad in the black uniform jumpsuit, he could have been plucked from a tale of wild woodland fairies to be wrapped in viscose and Velcro. Maybe it's an effect he is deliberately attempting to invoke at this stage, meeting a proud but altogether intriguing woman to whom power clearly means a great deal. Someone with a certain potential to be increasingly interesting and possibly even useful. Or perhaps he may be of use to her, which can ultimately be useful to him. It has not yet occurred to him that he hasn't really met her type before, or at least dealt with them to any great extent.
Annatar, perhaps, although although he'd never truly met him, nor did this woman inspire any comparison with him in his thoughts just yet. Annatar, the Lord of Gifts, whose name was also Sauron.]
You have come on time.
[Neither a criticism nor a compliment, just a note of interest. It makes sense for mortals to count each passing minute.]
[action]
Annatar, perhaps, although although he'd never truly met him, nor did this woman inspire any comparison with him in his thoughts just yet. Annatar, the Lord of Gifts, whose name was also Sauron.]
You have come on time.
[Neither a criticism nor a compliment, just a note of interest. It makes sense for mortals to count each passing minute.]