*finds your anger suddenly funny, in a sickening sort of way, because here he is in a damp, bloody T-shirt, trembling and as far from himself as he's ever been, and now you sound like the Glorfindel who never backed down from anything in his life (the Glorfindel I always hoped you would remember)*
*gives a choked sound that might've been a laugh, under other circumstances* You—you seriously. I told you I would say things. I told you to go. I even tried to be civil about it, when all I really want to do is to scream. *hisses, the severity rising, if not the volume* You decided to stay, and then you decided to smack me in the face with Ecthelion on top of it, and now you're pissed because I'm not jumping to trust you? Are you serious?