Kiss.

"I can't wait until our quest is done..."

"Me neither."

Sounds like they should finish up their planning, then. 

And once the snows melt, they can set out.

Of course. 

(She still nicknames Huan 'Serendipitous Kill,' though this time her tone's more fondly teasing.)

(This group has a nice dynamic. She likes it.)

Different than when it was just the two of them. But Serendipitous is agreeable and Finrod is tolerable.

Better than if Nargothrond had gotten Finrod to take guards along. 

True.

Lean.

The Vale of Sirion is a good hike away. It's a treeless valley, cold rocky cliffs dropping down to a grassland on the border between scrub and tundra. There's a single road running north to south through it, winding among destroyed farms and charred buildings, cutting through stone walls that stretch across the valley. The gates in those walls were broken by the Enemy and never replaced, but the stonework stands strong. 

A large, cold river pours through the center, splitting around an island in the middle - the Isle of Werewolves, as it's called now, and Sauron's beasts roam far and wide from it to harass those still trying to scrape out a living in their reach. A tower that's never been broken rises from the center, and it is there that Sauron rules.

Mygwainor shoots down Finrod's first idea of using the Song to disguise themselves as some of the many orcs that walk these lands. Sauron will see through mere illusion very easily.

There's no path nearby through the mountains - they could climb into the highlands of Dorthonion and then back down, but that will take them tremendously out of their way, and it's guarded by creatures other - and sometimes more dangerous - than Sauron.

(Still, it's an option for another loop, if Sauron proves tricky.)

Mygwainor actually suggests they walk up and knock on the front door. No subterfuge.

...Everyone here does know who Mygwainor is already. So it depends if Sauron is likely to respond helpfully to that.

"More that he's likely to respond violently to us sneaking by. He's proud and competitive, and he won't back down from a challenge. Sneaking by makes this a challenge of war. Even if he's mad at me - starting this as diplomacy puts it as a challenge that's less likely to get anyone killed, since he thinks switching game types when you start losing is... Approximately unsporting."

"What would we tell him?"

"I do plan to tell him I'm after the Silmaril. I don't think he'll care very much, and guarding Angband isn't his job. I'm unsure what, if anything, he'll demand in exchange for passage through... Or if he'd cast it as something other than an exchange."

"A contest of some kind?"

"Everything's a contest with him. But, yes, likely so - especially since I doubt he'll go along with 'I have a plan, do as I say'..."

"Would it be the sort of thing we can prepare for?"

"I'm unsure... He likes games of skill, but for a really large definition of skill... He'll probably insist on proposing something, though, and I don't know what he'll choose."

"But you think we still have a better chance at that than a straight fight or an ambush."

"I'm fairly sure we'd ultimately win a straight fight, but not without fatalities."

"And we can't afford any, really. All right."

"Worse comes to worse we attack him anyways; I don't think trying nonviolent resolution first will significantly hurt our chances in a fight."

Nod.

She sighs.

"...Having enemies is annoying."

"You've got friends, too." Bump.

Bump! "You're worth a million enemies."