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Lómwë was liking this situation less and less as the conversation progressed. Although he at first had been relieved to discover that the source of the clinking appeared to be no more malicious than the helpful spirits who had let them use the gatehouse, the smith’s many questions did not sit well with him. Lómwë had also noticed how the smith had not answered Orëmir’s question about Malris and Tasa, in either negative or affirmative, instead putting it off, as if there were secrets to be kept. And Lómwë had had contact with too many evil spirits to trust this one at face value. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but seeing that the smith unlock the door immediately made him wonder if he wasn’t going to try to imprison them.
Nevertheless, he uneasily took a seat on one of the benches near the fire, keeping his sword close to hand, although he did not know how much use it would have. Carefully, he answered, “Yes, we have heard singing, on the first night we arrived. But as to conclusions we have drawn, I do not know that all of ours are the same. For myself, I have not made up my mind.” He decided to press the smith for some more information and see if he was similarly evasive; if he continued to dodge their questions, Lómwë would truly start to suspect him of less than honorable motives. “I am curious, however, about what conclusion you say you have drawn. You have been here much longer than any of us and have surely had more time to study the matter.”
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