He turned at the sound of his name, his eyes alighting upon the pretty face of a young woman. His first impression was of her red hair. It was the first time in several thousand years that he found the color on anyone that wasn't his mother or grandfather. How odd a thing to find. Maedhros stood tall and then bent faintly at the waist in a very formal bow of respect.
"My Lady Ariel," he said, placing his hand on his chest, "I am pleased to meet you," his voice was strong, and lyrical like the tone of ringing bells across a field. His grey eyes glittered with a fiery spirit within him, a passion that shown brightly on his face and in his bearing more generally. He was one of the Noldor, aged, experienced and noble, a Lord amongst elves and the dispossessed King.
Be that as it may, Maedhros was new to this place and he was grateful and indebted to all of those that took the time and effort to answer his questions and provide information he sought. They were helpful, and without them he truly would be lost and left to live or die upon the lanes of this strange land, this Lawrence in Kansas of America.