Okay. Keep your heart rate down, Marillë. Yes, this is the Prince Curufinwe. Yes, he's the most genius Elf in all Aman. But he liked your paper, he asked you to be here. There's nothing to be nervous about.
She knocks on the door.
"That sounds almost like a challenge but I'm not sure how I'd go about meeting it..."
"Trying to get me to do anything I don't completely want to be doing isn't just a challenge, it's impossible."
"Wasn't thinking of that. I was thinking of coming up with something you would want to do but wouldn't have thought of on your own."
"But if you wouldn't have been if I hadn't suggested it and I suggested it with the deliberate intention of having it happen then it would also be my fault. It would be both of our faults."
"Cool.
I'll tell you what I was going to ambush you with if you'll tell me where you've been hiding."
"You don't either. You can kinda do fine without a single thing Tirion's selling."
"Well, that's true, but I do find that it's more convenient to have a consistent place to store things like bright-pink-lace-trimmed clothing."