Disclaimer: Tolkien's the genius, not me.
She heard the sound of a hammer on hot metal long before she entered her father’s forge, and thought nothing of it. But when Nerdanel entered the room she halted, and Mahtan’s newest apprenticed paused in his work. Smoldering eyes peered at her from behind sweat-damp strands of hair, haughty and curious. The Prince of the Noldor was unmistakable, even in such a setting, wearing rough clothes and with a heavy hammer poised in his hand.
After a long moment, Nerdanel remembered the errand that had brought her out here, and turned quickly away.
Was that soft laughter she heard?