A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews, everyone! I was beyond pleased-thrilled, really-to see that you're enjoying the story. Neshomeh, I was a little worried that the mix of tones would be jarring, so it's great to know that they worked for you!

Well, it was a false alarm. Legolas looked startled because someone replaced all his spare bowstrings with piano wires; and Lindir, the only pianist among us, is nowhere to be found. Then Gimli remarked that Legolas' bowstrings might as well make music, since they did no good otherwise; and in the midst of the ensuing tumult, I escaped to discuss Step One. The first thing to keep in mind when you wish to court an elf is this:

Don't Try

This is also the step most certain to be ignored, because elves do hold a certain fascination for us poor mortals.

I would attempt to convince you that elves at close range are really quite unattractive; but that would be a lie, and also, Finrod keeps trying to look over my shoulder.

And then I thought to tell you that the dignity, wisdom, and otherworldliness of elves is so overpowering that you would no sooner fall in love with them than with your own grandparents. This is closer to the truth; but I doubt it would stop any determined person. As Galadriel once observed, there is nothing in Arda or out of it that humans will not imagine themselves in love with. And she did not volunteer any details; and I did not wish for any.

Truth be told, elvish beauty is only part of their allure. For example, running through all my memories of Luthien is the impression of deep joy-a joy in the life of the world that bubbled over in all she did, like a fountain from an underground spring.

For elves may be old, but the world is never old to them. Their delight in it is so great that, in their presence, it is easy to forget you have ever learned sorrow. The Lay of Leithian goes so far as to say that Luthien persuaded me to dance with her-and no, Finrod, I will not confirm that, so it's no use looking. Nothing you read or hear will ever quite prepare you for elves as they truly are.

And still I say that you should not try. Here are several good reasons for you to completely disregard:

1. You're too late

The good news is that the majority of elves will marry. The bad news is that they usually marry young. When you meet an elf, you should assume that, not only is he married, but also that he has been married since before your surname was invented.

2. You're going to die

Elves call death "the gift of Iluvatar" without a hint of irony-although if you listen as they lament the "burden of the years" and the "inevitable fading," sarcastic comments will start to burn the inside of your mouth.

Now, since elves generally marry for love and almost never remarry, it would be extremely painful for them to lose a spouse after so short a time as an ordinary human lifespan.

Not only that, but elvish memories are rather different from ours. They have a talent for remembrance, and memory becomes ever more a part of their lives as time goes on. When there are painful memories, they must be endured as long as the world lasts. So, as Finrod explained to my aunt Andreth, elves prefer to have memories "fair but unfinished" rather than continuing "to a grievous end."

In short, you will spare your elf a great deal of grief if you let him alone.

But you've probably chosen to circumvent this problem by becoming immortal, which brings me to my next point:

3. You can't become immortal

It amazes me how people seem to think Iluvatar distilled immortality into a sort of potion and then left it lying about in vials, or some such nonsense. He also does not distribute it willy-nilly as a reward for good behavior or offer it as an option for the exceptionally good-looking.

No, the only way you can choose to be immortal is to be half-elven in the first place. Or, if your name is Tuor son of Huor, you might be counted among the Eldar because after you've been given everything else, why not have that, too . . . I mean, as a special boon. It should be noted that this is an EXCEPTION and NOT TO BE REPEATED.

And if you are imagining that elves can simply throw away their immortality like a pair of old shoes, I must tell you . . .

4. Elves can't become mortal

Owing to certain visions from the Palantir of Cinema (doubtless you understand it better than I do), you may be under the misapprehension that elves keep immortality in pendants around their necks, which they can bequeath to anyone who catches their fancy.

The truth is that Arwen Undomiel was permitted to take up the life of men because of her human heritage. And Luthien was permitted to choose mortality, again because of a special boon-and because she was half-Maia-and because of her deeds against Morgoth-and because of her great sorrow. If you want to call that a reward, I cannot stop you; but at any rate THIS WAS ALSO AN EXCEPTION. An elf couldn't give up his own nature for you, even if he wanted to. But he wouldn't want to-which brings us to our last and most fundamental obstacle:

5. Elves believe that there is an insurmountable gulf between us

Whether elves think themselves superior or whether they simply wish to avoid the pain of loss (or both), their attitude towards marriage with humans was neatly summarized by Finrod in this way:

"[I]f any marriage can be between our kindred and thine, then it shall be for some high purpose of Doom. Brief it will be and hard at the end. Yea, the least cruel fate that could befall would be that death should soon end it."

I might add that no amount of beauty, wit, charm, intelligence, courage, swordsmanship, vocal skills, personal tragedy, physical injury, emotional trauma, magical powers, exotic pets, unnaturally-tinted hair, or anything else on your part is going to overcome that.

You see, while they can and do fall in love, elves are much less at the mercy of [here in the original text is an ink blot, followed by several crossed-out words] of [more ink blots] of-oh, by all the-[in another hand is written their hormones?]-yes, Ioreth, thank you-than we are. Therefore, they are not so easily swept into irrational decisions.

[Here the second hand continues, You are most welcome, my lord, and think nothing of it indeed; for though there is no illness here, I have often thought it would do no harm to learn the lore of healing as it is now practiced in Arda. And so, some time ago, I consulted the herb-master of Minas Tirith and said to him, "My friend, why should we not learn the new arts of healing, and the new names of things?" And he said to me, "Your words hold great wisdom, Ioreth, and indeed I have already begun collecting many works of lore. And among them is this Medical Dictionary, in which you may learn all manner of names if you wish." So I took it and read it all, and found it most instructive; and then I went to all the healers, advising them to read it as well. And they all agreed that it would be a wise thing to compare and compile lists of names, so you must not fail to consult me if you find yourself again searching for one. ]

Your knowledge is a great gift, Ioreth, and I am sure that . . . men will long remember your words.

(Incidentally, if you didn't know, elves do not suffer from nearsightedness. This is how I have deduced that Erestor is only pretending to read so he can hide his smirking.)

Anyway, in summary, an elf may like you. An elf may befriend you. An elf may mourn you when you are deceased. But he won't fall in love with you. Don't try to make him.

However, there would be few stories if everyone listened to good advice . . .