Who: Lords Faramir and Imrahil What: Discussing politics, government and what it means to rule. Where: Faramir's rooms. When: Now. Warnings | Status: Low! They're civilized men | in progress
Imrahil stood off to the side of Faramir's main room, his back to the door while he watched his nephew before him. He kept his hands folded politely behind him and his feet shoulders width apart in a soldier's stance of ease.
"If I may speak frankly, Lord Faramir," he said, to break the silence. "We cannot blame the men and women of a new age for their lack of understanding or indeed their lawlessness." He paused, brow furrowing while he thought of what he meant to say exactly. "Those that govern were long instructed on how to rule a population and to keep order. Without it we have chaos such as in this place, with the myriad of people here. But implementing laws and having people live by them is not as simple as writing them and asking they be bought."
Imrahil stepped further into the room, bowing slightly at the waist in respect and deference to his nephew who, despite his youth, outranked Imrahil in terms of status and position. He folded his arms across his chest, regarding the younger man with level eyes.
"I digress." Another pause. "You see I fail to understand the purpose of not.. two days ago saying we must provide law and order only for no consensus to be reached. We are a community of outlaws, for good or ill, forced to make a life in this strange place but no one wants to listen to reason or rule. How do you establish a government when the people refuse to hear the words of those who have led nations? Nay not even that, how do you establish government amongst people who only seek to do as they will of their own desire? Without regard for collective ideology. We must all stand on the same ground if we are to succeed."
Imrahil shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose while he considered his frustration and locked it down.
"There is a massive lack of communication across all tables."