*thinks over his conversation with Yates, the pieces finally clicking into place* Oh.
*thinks he should laugh, it's so ridiculous—he can imagine what it might have sounded like and he shouldn't have assumed you'd have had the chance to read Yates' file yet—but feels...oddly cold*
*rather stiffly, his good arm folded in tightly against his body* It isn't like that. He's my second, Glorfindel. *adds after a pause, though it seems awkward and unnecessary (but he no longer knows what is or isn't necessary)* My other second.