*chuckles, crinkly-eyed with amusement* Don't tell Ecthelion, but Esther emailed me right after he hung up. *mischievously* Actually, no—she tried to call me first, but she was laughing so hard she couldn't make herself understood? So she emailed me to let me know our lord had just delivered the worst calloff in the history of fabricated illnesses. *laughing outright* Made my week, let me tell you. Ah, Glorfindel, you've ruined him.
He treats you right then we don't have a problem.
*is a little bemused by this* *eyes you skeptically* Good Eru, is this what we sound like when we're ribbing Arwen about future boyfriends? Are you about to tell me you're sharpening the axe? *waving that off with a half-smile* No, but really. I do want you to meet him. All of you.
*and he cuts himself off before he can add something utterly stupid like he reminds me of you sometimes, because that may be true (in all of the best ways) but it's better left unsaid*