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Gifts from Simon Tam:
Gifts from Jaime Lannister:
Gifts from Narcissa Malfoy:
“And you’re sure that it’s the right size?”
Garak shot him an irritated look. “Of course it is. I’m not exactly an amateur at this sort of thing. And come to think of it, neither are you,” he said pointedly. Before Methos could get in a snarky reply, the Cardassian produced a small heavy box. “It’s done. It wasn’t easy, or cheap. Matters of fashion or more covert pursuits are more to my liking these days.”
A small drawstring bag full of coins thunked on the table between them, “That should more than cover your time, expense and noted sacrifice.”
He opened the box and admired the wrought silver framing the ruby. "Lovely."( Owl to Brienne )
Whatever forces or magic moved the mysterious popcorn room seemed to be quite active lately. There was another shifting among the kernels and another resounding *bang* as a former student of Hogwarts appeared in a hail of butter and salt. A statuesque woman of etherial beauty stood in the middle of the hallway. Galadriel, the Lady of Lorien had returned.
She had marched with the Noldor in their flight from the Valinor. She was no stranger to combat, cold or other hardships that had been visited upon the her kin in their travels across Middle Earth. However, she was quite confused to find herself standing in the middle of a castle hallway, her pale silver gown and long silver blonde hair streaked with some strange oily substance. Experimentally, she raised her hand, tasting a bit of the greasy substance on her finger. It was butter. Why did she have butter all over her?
Galadriel cast a glance about the corridor, she could detect no immediate threat and Nenya lay cool against her hand. Still dizzy from the process of unpopping and millenia of memories rushing back, Galadriel found the nearest chair and eased herself into it. In a true testament to her kin, she managed to look regal, despite her rather greasy appearance.
Methos stood and stretched his aching back. He had been hard at work since he left his chat with Olympia. After his dinner with Brienne, he had been contemplating a suitable gift to send to her and thanks to Oly, he had the perfect idea. He would send her something pratical, but beautiful. Sticking his head out the door, he called for a house elf.
“Take this to Brienne of Tarth over in Gryffindor, please.” He handed a simple wooden box to the elf that immediately scampered down the corridor. The immortal stretched a crick in his neck and turned back to his room. He had been hard at work for hours and he should probably do something about the mess..