“I am merely an emissary,” said the ambassador, “and have not the power to treat with you until the Khandis arrives, if then.  How Khand decides to treat with you then depends on the Khandis’ reaction to my reports of your people and your culture.”

Elessar resisted the urge to rub his temples.  They had been over this already.  “I hardly see how a difference in culture matters, provided that the same respect for peace and justice is held.  We will not interfere in your affairs, provided you do not interfere with ours.”

“In that case trade is futile, for is it not an interference?  And if we cannot trade with our former ally, and we cannot trade with you, how can we expect our people to survive?  As for justice, your views on the matter may be entirely different from ours.  It is too early to tell for certain, but thus far the things we were told about you are not lies, as you would have us—”

The speaker fell silent as there was a palpable change in the feeling of the room.  Air from outside rushed in as the two heavy doors to the throne room swung open without a sound.  All eyes turned toward the diminutive figure standing at the far end, silent enough that the light pad of hobbit feet on stone could be heard even at the far reaches of the vast hall.

Pippin ignored the attention and strode resolutely forward, shoulders square as he reached the foot of the dais.  Turning his eyes to the floorwork, he genuflected and said, “My lord, the Queen would have you in her closet.”

It was so quiet that he could hear his heartbeat.  The eyebrows of several older members of the court, not quite acquainted with the nature of the Halfling, froze mid-crawl.  The guards placed at strategic corners of the room steeled their expressions, while the ambassador merely looked perplexed.

Finally Aragorn, sensing that any progress made this afternoon was now rendered completely useless, gave up all pretense of formality.  “What, again?”

Pippin finally raised his head to see the frozen expressions of shock and scandal painted across the room.  Color seeped into his face.  “Oh.  That didn’t come out right, did it?”  He rose from his kneel.  The faces in the hall began to relax as the less conservative members of the court fought the temptation to laugh.  “Her… her chambers?”  He paused, as a few snickers broke out.  “No, no, that doesn’t sound right, either—the activities roo—?—no, definitely not.  The, ah—the sitting room.  Yes, that’s it—the sitting room.”

Aragorn let the laughter run its course, and waited for the redness in Pippin’s cheeks to subside.  “Oh,” he remarked.  “That closet.”  He coughed.  “The court will recess for the afternoon.  We meet again after supper.”  Instantly conversation broke out among all parties, and the typical milling after court was replaced by a rush to leave the room.

The King rose and addressed Pippin.  “You are dismissed until your next scheduled duties.  I trust that whatever Arwen wants is important enough for such an interruption.”

Pippin practically flew from the room.