Chapter Text
“Please, Fin, please, please, please,” begged Alassë.
“How many others do you have coming?”
“None.”
“Plus…?”
“Five, but we really need you there!”
Glorfindel sighed and looked up at his new friend. Alassë could be irritating and pushy, and she was held in high regard by many in this community he had joined, and whether she would admit it to herself or not, she was somewhat in the habit of abusing her status to ensure that everyone around her behaved in the way she found most entertaining. Still, she was warm, welcoming, friendly, and had been encouraging him to socialise more with the other residents of Imladris in the short months since he had arrived. So far, he had hardly left the barracks, preferring to spend his days immersed in work, and his evenings alone, readjusting to his new life in Middle Earth.
“You know that you’re terrible and incorrigible, don’t you? What is so important that I need to come to dinner tonight, not another night when I’m less busy and tired?” Glorfindel had plenty to do in his new role, and making small talk with five of Alassë’s friends, plus anyone else Wilwarin had invited, sounded like more effort than he wanted to take on right now.
Alassë grinned guiltily, “Well, Wil has been learning how to bake and it’s been non-stop pie chat all week: how many she’s going to make today, and how she needed so many different kinds of fillings, and I completely forgot that I had promised that if she went along to the baking class she could have a party to share whatever she made, and that I would invite people as well as her. I know she’s asked a couple of friends but she really wanted to have lots of people around, and you know how it is when you’re young and hardly anyone is your own age.” She gazed at him pleadingly with her surprisingly blue eyes.
“Actually, when I was growing up there was a bit of a baby boom, there were plenty of other elflings around-"
Alassë didn’t let him finish, “It’s not like that for Wil, she has hardly anyone her own age and she likes meeting new people, and I promised her I would ask you. I’m sorry for not giving you more notice, I’m a rat and I forgot. Wil always wants anyone new to fit in and make friends and I know it would mean so much to her if you were there. Did I say please?”
“Several times, but that doesn’t mean I’m not busy-"
“You don’t have to bring anything, just yourself and an appetite to try at least five different types of pie.”
“Will they be edible?” he asked, beginning to soften. He had met Wil a couple of times in passing, and she seemed like a sweet kid. It wasn’t her fault her mother was scatter-brained and far better at suggesting activities than actually organising them.
“She’s learning with Maeve who is an incredible cook, and she’s a very dedicated student, so I think the chances of them being excellent are pretty high.” Alassë gave him her most winning smile and paused for effect before playing her trump card. “You’ll be making a little girl very happy.”
Glorfindel gave up. “As long as that little girl isn’t you, because that’s a creepy way to refer to yourself, I’ll be there. Eight?”
“Oooor more like six?"
“I need to finish up here, and change, and-"
“Six thirty?”
Glorfindel raised his voice slightly, “and explain to Asha that I won’t be joining her tonight on a patrol because I’ve been cornered by a beast closer to home.”
Alassë conceded his point. Asha was a true talent in the world of Imladris’ security, but she was also a fierce taskmaster that even Alassë occasionally held her tongue around. “Seven thirty?” she said with a cheeky smile, starting to turn to the door.
Glorfindel looked down at his to-do list, seeking tasks which could wait a little longer. “If I can, but don’t,“ he quickly added “make any promises to Wilwarin, that’s not fair.”
Alassë reached for the door handle and started to leave his office. “You’re an angel. You got wings, baby.”
***********
At seven forty-five, Glorfindel had found his way to the apartment in the main house which Alassë shared with her daughter, Wilwarin. He had been there once before when she had invited him for tea, but that had been an escape from the main company when he had felt overwhelmed after a welcoming feast. This was going to be very different. Even before he reached the door, he could hear the hubbub of happy voices down the hall, and he found himself having second thoughts about attending. He reasoned with himself that he hadn’t promised, that he had even stressed that he may not attend, that he had already made his excuses; but Glorfindel expected more from himself. He had agreed to go. And he knew that he really needed to start meeting new people.
When he had arrived in Imladris he had struggled to adjust straight away. He had been greeted by the Lord of the Valley, but had found it almost impossible to go into the house. After so long in the chill, ethereal emptiness of the halls of Mandos, the idea of going into the clamour of the Last Homely House had been overwhelming. It was Alassë who had had the idea that he might feel more comfortable in the barracks, noisy with the sounds of training during the day, but from early evening there were few left who were not working or sleeping, and he quickly settled into the peace and routine of the place. It was far from the main house, flanked on one side by the great lake, and a stone’s throw from the edge of the woods. He enjoyed the familiarity too: the Last Homely House was full of strangers and customs he didn’t know, but in the barracks he knew where he was with maintaining armour, tending to horses and slowly rebuilding his stamina and muscles.
It had begun with a throwaway comment from Alassë about Glorfindel needing to emerge from the barracks, then a casual invitation to some drinks with her and a few friends which he had refused. Then she had visited his office one day and outright told him that she was worried that he wasn’t mixing with anyone. He had insisted that he had met plenty of others in the Guard, but she was having none of it. She told him that eventually she would start dragging him to dinner, or bringing new visitors to his office to corner him. One time she even threatened to set him up on a blind date, but the look on his face made her quickly backtrack on this idea. Still, he decided he wanted his emergence into society to be somewhat on his own terms, so when she had shown up begging him to come to dinner tonight, he had decided it was finally time to accept. Five plus a few kids seemed like a manageable number. He would say hello, eat, smile and leave. Nothing to worry about.
He had hardly knocked when the door flew open. He was greeted by a somewhat familiar face, and an identical face behind it.
“It’s you!” said the boy holding the door handle.
“He really came,” said the other.
Glorfindel looked past the twins into the room, hoping to see Alassë and confirm he was definitely at the right door. Rather than her, he saw a different person he knew: Wil jumping up from the sofa to rescue him.
“Fin!” she cried, butting in front of the twins. “Nan said you might come.” She beamed at him. She was a gangly, bubbly child, all angles and big eyes, her mother’s blue eyes, but her hair was far darker than the light brown curls her mother sported. She reached over the threshold and pulled him into the room by the forearm, because he was holding a bottle of wine in his hand.
Alassë came into the room from what he supposed must be the kitchen, judging by the smells and noises coming from it. She was wearing purple velvet, a little out of date, but somehow she made it look stylish, and her hair was clipped up off her neck. He was a little surprised when she hugged him warmly, if a little awkwardly as she had a glass of wine in one hand, and he didn’t have time to realise that he should hug back before it was over.
“Hi Fin, I thought I told you not to bring anything. I’m feeding everyone tonight,” he heard what sounded like “ha!” from the kitchen, which Alassë ignored, “but I suppose that’s the chivalry in you, such a sweet old soul. We’re so glad you could come, do you know everyone here?”
Glorfindel looked around the room, and then peered past Alassë into the kitchen where he could see several others milling about, “er, I don’t think-“
“Wil, introduce your guests to Fin while I get him a drink, come through when you’ve met everyone here,” she seemed perfectly happy addressing two different people in one sentence. “Red or white? Or pink, I think we have some pink left.”
Glorfindel wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by pink. “Red?”
Alassë nodded, took the bottle of wine from his hand without really looking at it, and disappeared from view again.
Wil smiled a little awkwardly and hovered next to the sofa. She and her friends had clearly been in the middle of playing a card game, and she was careful to hold her cards against her chest as the twins passed next to her, one making a not so subtle attempt to look over her shoulder at them. She gestured to the twins who were now squashing themselves into the same armchair, one in the middle, the other on the arm, leaning on his brother. “This is Elladan and Elrohir, I think you’ve met their adar?”
“Lord Elrond’s sons,” provided Glorfindel. He had heard that Elrond had children, but hadn’t met them and hadn’t realised they were identical twins. He wondered which was which, and didn’t think he’d be able to tell them apart again even if he was told.
“Ew, it’s so weird when people use his title,” said Wil.
“You know, we have titles too,” said the twin in the middle of the chair.
“Most of us have titles if you try hard enough,” shot back Wil, “and it’s gross to make people use them.” The twin who had spoken thrust his tongue into his bottom lip but said nothing, while his brother looked amused by Wil’s statement.
“And this is Lirael, she’s my best friend,” Wil gestured to the girl she had been sitting next to on the couch who had a cautious smile and ruler straight hair so pale it was almost white. Wil’s friends all looked at least a few years older than her, but she seemed the most confident of the lot, though he supposed she was on home turf. “Her sibling Sabriel is around too, I think they’re in the kitchen,” she said vaguely. “And of course, the guests of honour,” she turned and motioned to the large table, which Glorfindel couldn’t help but notice had far fewer chairs than the number of people clearly in the apartment. It was piled high with not just pies and tarts (he could see fruit, custard, treacle, pecan) but he could also see a jelly, some sort of meringue and a stack of chocolate covered buns.
Glorfindel had never seen such a large amount of sweets for such a small group of people. “Oh wow, Wil, did you make all these?”
“Er, no, I did the treacle and the peach, and Lil” Glorfindel guessed this was Lirael’s pet name, “did the cherry and the custard, and we both did the jelly, and the twins’ Nan sent them over with the meringue, and Non,” he had no idea who this was, “did the buns.”
Glorfindel shook his head in amazement. “Well, you should be very proud, it looks amazing.” Wil beamed, and Glorfindel leaned towards her conspiratorially. “How is there still cooking going on?”
Wil rolled her eyes, “Because apparently we need to have something other than sweets or our teeth will rot and we’ll all get rickets. Nan wanted you to go get a drink, better go before she pours you multiple to make a point about keeping her waiting.”
Glorfindel left the elflings and made his way into the overcrowded kitchen. He had hardly stepped through the door before a glass of wine was in his hand and an arm around his shoulders. He was glad of the warmth coming from the stove as he suddenly found himself going red as faces turned towards him. Two ellyth and an ellon were sitting at the tiny kitchen table, one with an elfling in her lap, another ellon was leaning against a countertop and a third was wearing an apron and stirring something which smelled fresh and delicious. All but the cook were watching him with warm expressions.
“Everyone, this is Fin-“
“Glorfindel,” he said quickly. He wasn’t sure where the nickname had come from, and noticed that Wilwarin had already started using it, he wasn’t sure how widely he wanted it spread.
“Glorfindel,” Alassë repeated deliberately slowly. “He’s not been here long and I thought it would be nice for everyone to meet him.” Glorfindel was sure everyone in the room, probably everyone in and for several miles around Imladris, had heard about the reborn warrior who had been sent by the gods themselves, but he was grateful to Alassë for brushing this detail aside. “This is Lindir, Melpomene, Sabriel, Sarnon, Palinurus and Erestor.” She reeled off the names with only the slightest of gestures to which name went with which guest. There was a shriek from the other room, and Alassë was gone before Glorfindel had time to wonder which of the twins had found a way to wind up the girls.
“S-sorry,” Glorfindel stammered, “I don’t think I caught any of those.”
The elleth without the child on her lap stood and offered him her seat. She had striking red hair, freckles and strong, broad shoulders. “Don’t worry, Alassë never slows down for anyone, we’ll help you out. I’m Sarnon, and this is Lindir and Melpomene,” she gestured to the others sitting at the table, “and their child Sabriel. You’ll already have met Lirael, their daughter, in the other room.” Glorfindel nodded, mentally putting the family together in his head. The resemblance between Lindir and his daughter Lirael was clear. “Palinurus, you might have already met,” the larger ellon leaning on the countertop reached forward and offered his hand. Glorfindel noticed he was drinking beer rather than wine, and wondered how he had managed this.
“I’ve not been around the barracks much recently, but I’ve been meaning to introduce myself, I do most of the building management and repairs when I’m not on patrol.”
Glorfindel shook hands warmly, committing the new face to memory.
“And Erestor is cooking.” The ellon at the stove finally turned around, and Glorfindel swallowed hard. He had seen Erestor before, when he had first met Elrond upon his arrival in Imaldris. He had noticed then that Erestor was unbelievably handsome, but he had hardly said a word and seemed so buttoned up and unapproachable that Glorfindel had all but forgotten about the chiselled stranger. Now he was standing with his hair coming loose, cheeks flushed from the steam of the cooking, and a couple of buttons undone above the top of the apron, and Glorfindel felt his stomach lurch.
He transferred a sauce-covered wooden spoon from his right to his left hand and shook Glorfindel’s just as Palinurus had. “Nice to see you again. Try this,” he held up the spoon to Glorfindel’s shocked lips. After a beat he realised what was expected of him and cautiously tried a little of the rich saucey dish, careful not to get any on his chin or shirt. “How is it?”
The dish was delicious, one huge pan filled with vegetables and barley. It was simple but, “Perfect!” he exclaimed.
Erestor frowned, “Not too much garlic?”
“I don’t think so, but then I’m not sure you can ever have too much garlic.” Glorfindel had found since his rebirth that strong flavours were something he appreciated more than most.
Alassë re-entered the kitchen. “Erestor, stop force-feeding my guests.”
“I’m just getting a second opinion, you’ll moan if it’s not good enough.”
“No, you’ll moan if it’s not good enough, I’ll moan if I have to wait any longer,” Alassë topped up the glass of rosé next to the stove which must have been Erestor’s. “Are we ready to go, the animals are getting hungry?”
“You can’t rush art,” Erestor said serenely.
“I can when you’re invited here as a guest, refuse to eat what’s served and insist on making dinner for thirteen people.”
“I’m not refusing dessert, just trying to make sure you and Wil don’t get scurvy. You two eat rubbish if I don’t intervene.”
“And you feed her vegetables and she’s turning out perfectly, where would we be without you?” Alassë leant over and spooned up a taste for herself. “It’s perfect, I’m getting bowls.”
Five minutes later, they were all seated (though not all on individual chairs) across both rooms, eating from bowls, plates and Alassë from a particularly large mug (“Who knew we only had twelve plates and bowls?”). The twins were entertaining those in the living room with tales of their riding lessons, while Glorfindel was talking to Sarnon and Melpomene at the kitchen table about Sarnon’s dating life.
“And the worst part was he didn’t ask me a thing about myself all evening. I mean, I wouldn’t have thought anyone could talk so much about tea! I like tea, I can conjure an opinion on it if I really need to, but my goodness, he practically listed every variety of tea in the known world and told me exactly how soon after boiling you should add the water, and how long to steep it and what to serve it with and my GOODNESS he was boring.” She hung her head in mock exasperation. “I don’t think I even told him what I do for a living. He didn’t ask me a thing about myself.”
“So, I take it you’re not seeing this one again either?” asked Melpomene.
“I know you think I should give people a chance, but it’s exhausting, Mel. You can’t have had a date that bad, and all mine seem to be stinkers at the moment!”
“I once had a guy turn up with flowers which I was horribly allergic to and I came out in hives thirty minutes into our date,” replied Mel with a half-smile.
Glorfindel laughed, “and did you see him again?”
“She married him!” replied Lindir, coming into the room for another spoonful of food and pausing to kiss Mel on the cheek.
“I’d love a date where a bit of light poisoning is the worst thing that happens,” said Sarnon, gazing at them jealously. “All the best guys are taken.”
“What about our Glorfindel, he’s not attached, right?” asked Lindir, raising his eyebrows. Glorfindel choked on his wine and started spluttering. He found himself going bright red. He had always felt awkward talking about his sexuality: he wasn’t exactly embarrassed about it, but always found it uncomfortable having to explain to people that their assumption that he would be interested in ellyth wasn’t correct. He certainly didn’t want to listen to them speculating about his interest in any of the men at the party.
Sarnon patted his back and Mel said sympathetically “Don’t mind him, Glorfindel, he’s just joking.”
“Hazing more like,” added Sarnon. “I wouldn’t trust any matches made by Lindir, it was him who set me up with the tea guy.”
Glorfindel spotted an opportunity to ask about another relationship he had been wondering about. “What about Alassë and Erestor, did I detect something there?” The two had been sitting together with the kids since dinner was ready, and despite a lot of teasing, he had noticed a close bond. The way they moved around each other in the small kitchen was like a well-rehearsed dance.
“Those two are the dictionary definition of ‘better as friends’. They’ve been close for centuries, and I think the inevitable attempted romance was over and done with in less than a year,” said Melpomene.
“Thank the gods,” added Sarnon. “It was so weird seeing those two together. I didn’t know Erestor was even interested in women until then.”
Glorfindel stopped himself asking the question he most wanted to. “When was this?” he asked instead.
“Look how big Wil is and add about, what six months?” said Sarnon with a shrug.
Mel nodded, finishing her dinner. “Yeah, they were definitely broken up by the time Wil was born. Lucky kid, those two were right back to being soulmates the second they stopped trying to be anything romantic to one another.” They both laughed.
Glorfindel stared. “Erestor is Wil’s father?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t see the resemblance.”
He looked through to the living room, where Erestor and Wil were laughing together at the twins while beginning to cut slices of dessert for those in the room. Their hair was exactly the same shade of mahogany, and there was a similarity their jaws and smiles, but it was more than that. As they worked together preparing plates he saw the same elegant, deliberate gestures, the same care taken over the task at hand, and the same attention to meeting the needs of another person. Erestor was clearly a great presence in her life.
As he watched them, he suddenly realised Erestor was looking straight back at him. Bracing himself, Glorfindel decided the time had come to leave the kitchen and plunge further into social life. “I should probably go introduce myself properly. Ladies, it’s been a pleasure speaking with you both. Lindir, perhaps we will talk more later?” He nodded to his new friends, placed his empty bowl in the sink and walked over to Erestor.
“Counsellor,” he greeted him formally, not sure whether Erestor was as casual about titles as Alassë and her other friends. Erestor’s eyes had not left him as he had approached and he wore a somewhat inscrutable expression.
“Captain,” he responded, the hint of a smile playing about the right side of his mouth.
“Gross,” muttered Wil, looking at them both with disgust.
Erestor cocked his head towards her. “Titles help everyone to know where they are, little Lady. The Captain is new to our party and it is fitting that he should address me by my title until such a time as he is invited to do otherwise.” Wilwarin rolled her eyes and handed an enormous slab of custard tart to Elrohir. “You may do so, by the way,” said Erestor, turning back to Glorfindel and fixing him with those beautiful dark eyes. “Call me Erestor, I mean.”
“Thank you, Erestor, and you must call me Glorfindel.”
“Not Fin?” he asked with a real smirk now.
Glorfindel sighed a little, glad the ice had broken. “I honestly don’t know where that came from. I don’t think anyone had called me Fin since I was at my mother’s knee and could hardly manage the whole word, but Alassë came out with it the first time we met.”
“She has a habit of doing that. I usually tell people it comes of having a small daughter who struggles with long names, but honestly Alassë has been calling me Res for as long as I can remember, which is a disgustingly long time, it’s never been used by anyone else, and Wil’s own speech hasn’t struggled with a word since she was about 10 years old. I usually tease that Alassë is just being lazy, but then I usually call her Ali back so I’m not one to talk. It’s affectionate though, so please don’t be offended by her. It’s when she starts calling you baby versions of your nickname that you truly need to worry.”
Glorfindel smiled, “What do you mean?”
“Well, any time that she knows something about me that she shouldn’t and plans to make fun of me I am always forewarned by her calling me things like Ris-Ros. It’s sickening.”
Glorfindel burst out laughing. The idea of anyone calling this strict and intimidating politician “Ris-Ros” and living to tell the tale was absurd. “Thanks for the warning, I’ll beware of any sign that Fin gets longer.”
Wil grinned mischievously, “Anyway Fin-Fin-Finny-Finny-Fin-Fin-Fin-Fin, which dessert can I give you?”
Minutes later, well set up with treacle tart, meringue and a healthy dollop of cherry jelly (Wil seemed to think that only having one dessert constituted cheating), Glorfindel found himself somehow in the largest armchair while Erestor perched on what seemed to be a piano stool, though Glorfindel couldn’t see any sign of a piano in the room. They spoke about his first weeks in Imladris, who he had met (mostly the guard) and where he had been (hardly anywhere), and Erestor apologised for not finding the time to invite him to sit in on a council meeting yet.
“You really are welcome any time, I’m sure Asha will want you to attend on behalf of the guard as you get settled in, and the agenda tends to be lighter at the moment with fewer travellers on the roads this time of year. I’ll send a note down to your office tomorrow with the dates for the next few, just let me know when you think you’ll be able to attend and I’ll meet you before hand to catch you up on the matters being discussed.”
“That’s very accommodating of you, thanks,” said Glorfindel, already looking forwards to spending more time with this charming expert. What he had initially taken to be cold unapproachability turned out to be a naturally unsmiling expression in front of a warm and supportive heart.
The rest of the evening was spent very pleasantly, with several increasingly silly games initiated by the twins, Palinurus teaching Lirael and Sarnon to juggle, and ended with Wilarwin producing a guitar seemingly out of thin air and requesting songs from Lindir.
Finally, the evening came to an end when Celebrian came to collect the twins, quietly thanking Alassë for giving their parents a night off, and everyone else started to file out. The departing guests were each plied with plates of leftovers, and Glorfindel found himself being forced to take at least a quarter of the uneaten chocolate buns before he was allowed to set foot out of the apartment.
He said goodbye to Lindir, Lirael, Sarnon and Palinurus in the hallway (Melpomene having taken a sleepy Sabriel to bed an hour earlier) and they all headed up further into the house. He was just turning to head out into the gardens and make his way across to the barracks when the door opened again. He saw Erestor’s silhouette, backlit against the warm room behind him, hugging his daughter tightly and kissing the top of her head, before leaning over to kiss Alassë’s cheek. He couldn’t hear what he said, but heard Alassë reply “You’re welcome,” before closing the door.
Glorfindel had expected to linger just a little longer and watch as Erestor retreated from view, but to his surprise Erestor turned and headed straight towards him.
“Ah, Glorfindel, I didn’t miss you.” Glorfindel’s stomach gave an excited little leap at the idea that Erestor had hoped to see him again.
“No, still here. Did you want something?”
“Oh, no, I just realised we must be headed in the same direction.”
“You don’t live in the main house?”
“Gosh, no, not for years. I love working here, but I’ve been out in my own place since Wil was small. I need the quiet sometimes.”
“I know what you mean,” Glorfindel said, then suddenly realised he might have sounded rude. “Not that there’s anything bad about the people here, they’ve all been wonderfully accommodating, it’s just… a lot.” He finished lamely, not quite sure he would be able to explain. They headed out of the main doors together, made a left and took off across the empty main lawn in the direction of the barracks, set near to the great, glassy lake.
Erestor looked at him with interest. “I imagine it’s a disorienting experience, going from Mandos’ halls back into the living world, and a place so full of people and energy at that.” Glorfindel was taken aback. Hardly anyone else had alluded to his past within his hearing, and usually then they did so with great caution. It was refreshing to address the oliphant in the room and move straight past it.
“Yes, exactly. Though I must say, this evening has been a welcome change of pace. I can’t remember when I last laughed so much, or ate so well, and your family and friends are wonderful.”
“Thank you, I’m rather happy with them.” Erestor gave a pleased smile he could not conceal. They strolled together over grass as a cold wind began to blow, and Glorfindel pulled his cloak further over his arms, careful not to drop his plate of leftovers.
“You’ll need gloves,” Erestor commented suddenly. “It gets pretty cold here over winter. Do you have everything you need?”
Glorfindel was surprised he had noticed. “I think I have some somewhere, I’m sure I’ll be able to get hold of a pair. I never used to feel the cold, but again I think readjusting to … well, life. It’s taking some getting used to.”
“That makes sense.” Again, Glorfindel felt comforted by the ease with which Erestor accepted the idea of his death and his rebirth. He wondered vaguely if anything ever shocked him, if he had just been around so long that he had seen and heard it all.
“Well, this is where I leave you,” Erestor said, coming to a pause at the water’s edge. Glorfindel looked around. The barracks was looming just a little further down the hill, but he could see no other obvious dwellings. “Oh, there’s a little run of cottages up along the tree line,” he pointed in the opposite direction, “hard to make out in the dark, but I’ll be home in just a few minutes more.”
“You don’t want me to walk you there?” Glorfindel was only half joking. He would have loved to walk Erestor home.
He was delighted by the shy smile he received in return, “I think I can make it alone, I’ve done so many times before. But thank you. Alassë was right about you.” Glorfindel raised his eyebrows in question. “Chivalrous.”
Glorfindel felt himself blush and was glad it was disguised by the cold night air. “Goodnight, Erestor.”
“Goodnight, Glorfindel.” Erestor shook his hand as he had when they met, and Glorfindel noticed for the first time that he was wearing woolen gloves, soft and delicate. Glorfindel wondered whether he imagined that Erestor held his grasp for a moment longer than was necessary, but then his handsome new friend turned and disappeared away into the darkness.
Some thirty minutes later, Glorfindel was walking from the bathroom he shared with four other rooms and glanced out of the window looking up in the direction of the lake. A light twinkled up on the hill, and he wondered if Erestor were there, perhaps wearing warm woolen pyjamas, climbing into a cosy bed, and maybe, just maybe, thinking of him too.