*does not think his eyes can get any wider and his breath hitches in his throat and he does not think he's dreaming (nightmare-ing?) because his teeth are biting into his lower lip enough to draw blood (because you are talking about national security and he knows what that means)* *feels his fingers digging into his thigh as he strains to hear Lucas' reply (and how he hates himself for stooping so low as to eavesdrop on an private (an intimate?) conversation)*
*can hear the sound of Lucas' voice but can make out no coherent words, just a sense of apology or concern (or maybe these are his own feelings)* *screws his eyes shut when he hears his own name* [...spoken of Lord Glorfindel...] *and it is darker and he cannot hear every word and he needs to hear every word* [I know that you and he are not on the best of terms]
*feels his legs weakening slightly because this is too, too much* *is so distracted with unravelling the meaning, although the meaning is obvious, that he fails even to listen to Lucas' next words*