Elrond: So.....much....pipe-weed!
-or-
That elf beside him: I'm just closing my eyes so I won't get them gouged out by the inevitable wave of arrows that's gonna come flying at that smile.
-or-
Elrond: Blasted facial contortions! That's the last time I let Thranduil do my make-up!
__________________
"What mortal feels not awe/Nor trembles at our name,
Hearing our fate-appointed power sublime/Fixed by the eternal law.
For old our office, and our fame,"
-Aeschylus, Song of the Furies
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