Where’s that hound of yours got to, Tyelkormo? Didn’t you have a big splendid one? You did, didn’t you. Shone white as anything. Run off to court some other bitch, has it? Well, dogs will be dogs. Pity… perhaps it will have better luck with Luthien than you did.
…In any case– what is it, huntsman, you want me to answer for? I’ve done nothing but strike up conversation.
What kind of fool, precisely, do you take me for? A blind one, a deaf one, a stupid one? Never mind, do not even bother answering, but I am not so much of a fool to know that you striking conversation is far from being innocent, no matter the situation. I will say it only once more. Leave Curufinwë alone, a difficult concept as it might be to a bastard like yourself.
A fool? No, no… Foolhardy, maybe. A vain, tempestuous braggart whose tongue is out the door before wisdom has got both feet on the ground, certainly. But no fool. Why, were you lacking in wit, I doubt you could have squirreled your way behind the throne of Nargothrond. You are at least as clever as a weasel, and as admirable.
But you are not your brother’s keeper, nor are you mine. I will do as I please.
Why, you flatter me, though not undeservingly, I must say. Foolhardy I might be, but your own thinly-veiled efforts at getting closer to my brother are pitiful at the very least. I wonder, did service to Morgoth dull your wits, or have you simply abandoned all pretense?
Never mind. I, too, will do as I please, and if it involves getting between my brother and a sick rabid bitch like yourself, so be it.
*sighs deeply*
I have sworn not to slay you as a boon to your much more reasonable brother, in exchange for something I desired.
I have already gotten what I wanted. This exchange becomes redundant, and your insults, toothless.
Fight me if you feel you must… you should do something with that excess choler. I never promised to spare you humiliation, after all.
A fairly reasonable offer, had it involved anyone else than you. As if you could be trusted other than with your throat rent apart! Lay a finger on him, and you will pay in blood. Because I, on the other hand, have not made any deals at all. And the only sight more present than your decapitated head would be the sight of the carnage of your armies, ruin of your fortress and chains about your master.
Oh, Hasty-Riser. I would love to see thee try.
Who art thou, after all? A pup scrambling in the shadow of his elders and their mistakes… Fëanor himself fell before laying eyes on our front gate– and while your uncle made slightly better headway in the wake of the most crushing defeat your people have yet experienced, he too fell without setting a single foot inside our door.
Thinkest thou can do better than they, Celegorm? You are running short of High Kings, I note… Can the Noldor afford another futile charge when the line of succession grows so perilously scant? And you, not even in the running for the crown, would bring disaster on your kin.
Answer truly before thou makest reply with thy sword, if thou canst.
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