((Continuation of this))
“Ai, that is sharp!”
Undómion’s head jerked up hearing his brother’s exclamation; some of the other elves that were nearby also looked up; a couple looking like they would go and find a healer. It did not last too long, and out of irritation and embarrassment for his sibling’s stupid antics, Undómion strode over about ready to slap Aridhor hard.
“What is it this time, you clumsy fool?”
Aridhor appeared fine…except when he lifted his right hand, and his palm was dripping blood, “I might have overdone it.”
“You are darn right about that.” Undómion growled, “Now, it is my turn to say you need to get up and leave your work.”
“Fine, fine.” Aridhor sighed, “I cannot do anything now considering I have hurt one of my hands…”
‘To me at least.’ Undómion pondered.
As he pulled Aridhor to his feet, they were both rewarded with odd stares. Aridhor gave a cheerful look while Undómion was refraining from letting his face go red.
A little later…
“If not by the sword, I am going to die by simply being around you; in a safe area for Valar’s sake.”
“What makes you say that?”
Undómion had a dark stare, “You are a fool. Your name literally means without thought…and I am sure Amil meant that for your lack of sense than care. You care enough…”
“I bear that name proudly.” Aridhor responded neutrally, examining his now tended to hand.
Undómion looked out the window. Names really did have meaning…perhaps there was truth about the idea that the mothers receive a vision regarding their child, just by seeing where he and his sibling are at the present.
“I had something going with that sword…If I could find a bit of orc metal, or even just steel armor, I want to see if I can cleave it through like if it was butter.”
“I can test it for you, if you wish…”
“Oh no. You will go and find any imperfections and then ruin the whole project.”
Undómion hissed, “I would not.”
Aridhor laughed then, “Of course-not anymore.”
Undómion turned around before asking a serious question, “What will it take for you to stop making a fool of me?”
Aridhor looked up; thought overtook him as he pondered this.
Undómion waited for an answer. The length of time it took had the younger Noldo doze lightly out of boredom. Once Aridhor’s sudden burst of laughter woke him up, Undómion scowled, “Will you please stop that.”
Aridhor subsided his laughter, but still looked quite happy, “To answer your question…I will never stop. You get so up in your head that it is good for you to have the coals cooled.”
“Cooled…” How does someone cool another’s ire? “So far you have only irritated me; thus heating them.”
“And you know what?” Aridhor stood up in a silly posture, “It works. Eventually, you get so tired of arguing it burns you out…either leaving you silent or stuck having to agree.”
“Shut up or I will wreck your other hand.”
Aridhor held them both up in surrender, “You know you cannot do that.”
Undómion twitched violently, closed his eyes, and once again Aridhor busted into laughter.
“Exactly my point!” the Noldo snapped his fingers with his good hand.
“Away from me, please.” Undómion tried to divert the topic away from himself, “Now, what is this metal you have come up with?”
“Mithril, mostly…I got my hands on a fair amount of it before Eregion was sacked. With its malleable nature, I am able to get it very thin…”
“What do you use to make it sharp? Surely Mithril by itself is not very…useful, unless it is used in armor.”
Aridhor blinked with a look of disbelief, "You underestimate Mithril! I should let you work with some of it then."
Undómion nodded, “If it will keep you entertained…you can show, or rather, talk me through making this new creation. It might become useful in the future, I fear…”
“Do not fear! Come on; show me what you can do, brother.”
They both left the room to return to the forges.
