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.
True enough. You just seemed confident enough that I thought you might have particular reason to expect it.
Who is, Eru help us all, planning to have kids of his own. Probably seven of them.
Sure! I mean, he's so much like your dad--will his kids be like him and you and the rest of your brothers, what'll their mom be like and how much will that affect things..."
Well, yeah, but--I'm inclined to guess that that's just because other people don't happen to be like that, not that his--selfness--has some kind of "uniqueness" inherent trait?
Yeah.
But, like, that didn't happen to Curufinwe. And he's--probably a happier person than your dad, but--
So who knows.
I wish him skill finding a wife who also wants seven kids, though.