"Maybe not all at once."

"Well, if they were standing between us..."

"That would be a different story."

Kiss!

Hee.

"How many enemies is my friendship worth?" Finrod asks with a little laugh.

Thoughtful hum.

And, completely deadpan: "Negative three."

"Meaning he'd convert them to allies?"

She snorts. "Sure, let's go with that."

She winks at Finrod.

He's laughing.

It is pretty funny.

The good mood's nice. 

Though Mygwainor's cheer fades a bit as they draw into the area of gloom around the Isle of Werewolves.

It is a bit of a downer.

They're committed now, though.

She takes Luthien's hand briefly, squeezing, as they approach the bridge, though she lets go once they're close enough it might make a difference in reaction time. 

And presumably if they manage to get all the way up to the door they should... knock?

They don't get attacked, so. 

Knock knock.

And a swirl of flame pours out of one of the upper windows, resolving to Sauron - dressed casually, no pretense at armor - standing a bit out of easy reach from them. 

"I must say, I don't get many visitors out here," he says, lightly. "Fewer with manners."

"We were passing through and thought it would be politest to introduce ourselves."

"Polite indeed. May I know who's calling?"

"Luthien of Doriath, Finrod Felagund, and Beren daughter of Barahir."

Huff!

"...And Serendipitous Kill."

"Someone finally bullied you into taking an actually interesting name?" he asks the dog. 

Unimpressed huff.