1. First Impressions
Heavy black hair fell down over his shoulders obscuring his face. The boy walked with a distracted air as though lost in thought. In Mahtan's office the day before, he had used formal courtesy to cover arrogance. Although he came highly recommended from Aulë, Mahtan wondered what he might know of the unglamorous day-to-day work a smith must endure to create the space for the pursuit of beauty and innovation. The son of a king was unlikely to be constrained by such tasks, but Mahtan would insist that he master them.
Preoccupied with his thoughts, the lad greatly overshot the doorway to the forge before stopping and looking about. Puzzlement suffused his face.
At that moment, Mahtan's daughter raised her head from her work and watched. Newly seeing him through her eyes, Mahtan noted the uncanny perfection of his strong jaw line, rosy full lips, pretty as those of any maid, and his dark-winged brows accenting pale eyes.
The handsome youth lifted his head, tossing his hair onto his back. After patting his pockets, he withdrew a leather thong. He raised strongly muscled arms, and, with graceful fingers, braided and secured his hair.
"Atar, is that Prince Fëanáro?" Nerdanel asked.
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