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It is by force of will alone that Mithiel keeps her expression from saying the I know that her lips would never dare speak in a circumstance such as she found herself in now. Still, he might catch a small glint of knowing in her eyes before she ducks her head in a very small bow.
'Lord Celegorm,' she said with as much respect and warmth as she had within her to manage, which for one of her people was a surprising amount. There was little love between the Sindar and the Noldor in these days. 'I will be sure to always recount the tale truly,' if she told anyone at all. Her parents would be beside themselves if they knew what she had done - and worse, she didn't know if it was the wolves for the son of Fëanor who would set their hearts to thundering more.
She could only count her blessings that he did not have his brothers with him, she may well have taken her chance with running if their numbers were greater.
Her eyes fixated on her arrow still stuck in the wolf's flank, and then she stepped forward to pull it free, the noise and the new stream of steadily cooling blood making her nose flare in disgust but she quickly cleaned it on a rag from her pocket and put it away with the others.
'I would not keep you from home or further hunting, whichever way you are headed, my lord.'
𝕴ndeed he searched for some part of it on her face, feigned unknowing or burked hostility, and seemed to come away with something. Over all Celegorm cared little for the valour he had asked and least for Thingol's nicety if it were to be only in lame speech.
And what would the sons of Fëanor have done to a Sinda, who held neither some power to her name nor even one of the Silmarils?
Celegorm would have returned to his hunt as well. These pelts, even if they came off the backs of Sauron's creatures, needed not be left to waste into the earth of the land. But Huan had not yet returned. So, he did not give way though Mithiel bid him take his leave and surely that seemed no less oppressive in her eyes than what their talk had been so far.
❛ Ye may not, squandering any valour I would have done. ❜ Yet, more than to reminder her of her little power, this time he explained. ❛ For if another stray wolf came upon you how might ye defend yourself? ❜
He was not wrong. There could be more wolves. There could be so many beyond some distant hill that the world writhed black and thick with them and she would never know of it unless she came across them or some messenger warned her off. Yet, even though he had no need or motive to do her harm, was he not a wolf as well of a different sort?
She turned over the bloodied cloth in her hands, not looking at it but unable to escape the metallic stench that emanated from it. She wasn't looking at Celegorm either, but instead at his horse. It was easier to think if she focused only on his animals, the steady heartbeat, the soft puff of breath. The way its long tail flicked and ears twitched, listening to both of them. Even the hounds at least had clear motives when they looked like they might eat her. Mithiel could not say the same for their master.
There were only a few moments between his question and her reply but it seemed, to her, to draw on forever.
'The trees have long been my friends, and I am not unarmed, my Lord. It is a day and a half's walk home.' It could be fine, or there could be wolves, or orcs, or other goblins and twisted things. There could even be folk with malicious intent. She had never in her life been this far north and could not hope to guess but she did trust in fate at least for the most part. 'I would not ask you to delay your hunt so long.' For the elves, it was almost nothing in time but his prey would move or hide or make trouble.
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'Lord Celegorm,' she said with as much respect and warmth as she had within her to manage, which for one of her people was a surprising amount. There was little love between the Sindar and the Noldor in these days. 'I will be sure to always recount the tale truly,' if she told anyone at all. Her parents would be beside themselves if they knew what she had done - and worse, she didn't know if it was the wolves for the son of Fëanor who would set their hearts to thundering more.
She could only count her blessings that he did not have his brothers with him, she may well have taken her chance with running if their numbers were greater.
Her eyes fixated on her arrow still stuck in the wolf's flank, and then she stepped forward to pull it free, the noise and the new stream of steadily cooling blood making her nose flare in disgust but she quickly cleaned it on a rag from her pocket and put it away with the others.
'I would not keep you from home or further hunting, whichever way you are headed, my lord.'
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And what would the sons of Fëanor have done to a Sinda, who held neither some power to her name nor even one of the Silmarils?
Celegorm would have returned to his hunt as well. These pelts, even if they came off the backs of Sauron's creatures, needed not be left to waste into the earth of the land. But Huan had not yet returned. So, he did not give way though Mithiel bid him take his leave and surely that seemed no less oppressive in her eyes than what their talk had been so far.
❛ Ye may not, squandering any valour I would have done. ❜ Yet, more than to reminder her of her little power, this time he explained. ❛ For if another stray wolf came upon you how might ye defend yourself? ❜
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She turned over the bloodied cloth in her hands, not looking at it but unable to escape the metallic stench that emanated from it. She wasn't looking at Celegorm either, but instead at his horse. It was easier to think if she focused only on his animals, the steady heartbeat, the soft puff of breath. The way its long tail flicked and ears twitched, listening to both of them. Even the hounds at least had clear motives when they looked like they might eat her. Mithiel could not say the same for their master.
There were only a few moments between his question and her reply but it seemed, to her, to draw on forever.
'The trees have long been my friends, and I am not unarmed, my Lord. It is a day and a half's walk home.' It could be fine, or there could be wolves, or orcs, or other goblins and twisted things. There could even be folk with malicious intent. She had never in her life been this far north and could not hope to guess but she did trust in fate at least for the most part. 'I would not ask you to delay your hunt so long.' For the elves, it was almost nothing in time but his prey would move or hide or make trouble.