There can only be three man-elf unions, Proffessor Tolkien said so. Therefore, either this will blow over rapidly, or, one will die off, or -- GASP-- we will depart the Canon-Friendly road. (Nay, roared Mithadan, it cannot be so!)
And anyway, you guys are all a bunch of over-romanticized night-owls. GO TO SLEEP. And so, meanwhile, shall I. Who the heck cares about a stupid transcript (or new job) anyway.
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...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.
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