*starts to count on her fingers* That my father was or is someone called Fëanor and he was a hero and a warrior, that I have or had six younger brothers and that -- *hesitates* -- that you and I were -- *blushes* -- close.
*in a low, even voice* Your father was no hero. He was a murderer and made murderers out of us all. You did have six younger brothers, none of whom were quite so charming as you - the eldest son - were.
*in the same, even tone* Oh, yes. You, Maedhros Fëanorion, Maitimo, well-formed, Nelyafinwë, first born son of Curufinwë. You were a boy. A man. Oh, and you were about two feet taller than you are now.