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.
"The advantage of getting okay at a lot of different skills is that you meet a lot of people who go on to get really good at those skills."
Mmm. Lack of adrenaline continues to fail to impede your kissing abilities.
I wrote a couple of songs about you and Marille refers to one of them as 'Blond Hair Is Prettier When The Brain Under It Isn't A Vanya And Other Reasons Tyelcormo Is Great,' which is kind of clunky but not actually misrepresentative of the content, wanna hear?
She sings it. It is approximately half love song and half comedy, poking good-natured fun at assorted parties who are not him, but who share traits with him that he (according to the song) pulls off better.
Good.
We should probably, like. Talk about our relationship. Like adults. At some point.
Eventually, though, they probably should talk. Possibly when kissing has gotten involved enough that it's more comfortable to just. Cool off. Since they're not going any further yet.
So responsible!
"So...the most obvious thing, to me, that I mentioned earlier but we didn't really get into, is the lifestyle thing? You travel a lot and I don't want to make Year-long separations from my sister a habit."
"I could probably talk her into it sometimes but she has, like, her apprenticeship and friends and stuff."
"I'll probably want to move around less once we've crossed the sea but settling down in Tirion sounds -"
"Yeah, that's fair. I dunno, I don't have to come with you every time."