“I am not a prize mare to be bartered off to the highest bidder”
Artanis was furious. Her blue green eyes blazed, her face was white save for a flush of colour high on her cheekbones. Finrod made a shushing sound, gesturing over his shoulder to the flimsy hanging that formed the door to Menegroth’s version of ‘private’ quarters.
“I am doing no such thing” he hissed. “I simply have your best interests at heart. You want to study with the Lady, and you can’t stay here unattached…”
“It is The Law,” Artanis recited in deadly imitation of Thingol at his most pompous. “Yes, yes I know, but…”
“… and the king’s own nephew, Celeborn, has offered for you. It’s perfect, Nerwen.” Finrod turned wide blue eyes on his sister, his expression all enthusiastic hopefulness. She glared at him. Unlike most, she was immune to his charms.
“And you could do worse,” he concluded, ducking as she picked up a small, artfully carved crystal duck and aimed it at his head. “Why – he’s even taller than you…”
Artanis glared at him in patent disgust. “Oh yes. Tall, arrogant, and silent as a well. Never. Not in a million years!”