"Why is it that we never meet anyone nice?"
"Why is it that we never meet anyone that can shoot straight, you can't have everything in life."
"but if they were nice I wouldn't be concerned if that shot straight."
"aren't you supposed to care if every charming town village and hamlet are safe against Morgoth?"
"This is not a town, village, or hamlet nor is it charming in the least."
Beleg was slumped and tied to a tree and mulling over what to put under "occupation" in Namo's registration to the dead form while having a leisurely conversation with his sword.
Yes, it's as pathetic as it sounds.
Finally settling on "border stare-er" and contemplating if perhaps he could join a few recreational clubs once he reached the underworld and if really Namo's infamous banana obsession could be that bad, his wonderfully sentient sword pipped up from the tantalizingly close ground beside him.
"You absolutely sure that this Turin bloke is worth it?"
"Yes Angie, I'm sure"
"Don't call me that"
"Then don't ask"
The two sat in as chummy a silence could be achieved between the the grouchy bowman and the sarcastic sword for quite a trifle of time, waiting for the troupe of bandits to leave with their plunder to make their escape.
They were good, but they weren't take-on-a-whole-gang-by-yourself-when-injured good.
"one...two...three...five...eight...thirteen...twenty one...thirty four...fifty five...eighty nine..."
"Anglachel"
"Yes Beleg"
"Stop"
it was going to be a long night