Sam had thought the elves leaving Middle-earth was sad, and it had been; but this is sad in a different way. That had seemed sad yet inevitable - bittersweet, somehow: the Elves had been leaving forever, traveling far away across the sea, but they had been going home.
This...this is sadness, this is pain that is senseless. Tragedy and death that could have been avoided, if only people had learned to live with each other. And now these Elves have no home at all.
He wipes away a stray tear, one he hadn't noticed falling in the first place, and does his best to put on a brave face before looking back up at Ellana. She doesn't want to talk about it anymore, and that's fine. It's a bit of a relief, really, to think about (hopefully) happier things for a while, even if the prospect of talking about himself stumps him a bit.
"Well I don't know that there's much to say, least not that'd be of any interest to an Elf," he says, ducking his head a bit. "You'd have been better off asking old Mr. Bilbo, if he were here. Now he could tell a story!"
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This...this is sadness, this is pain that is senseless. Tragedy and death that could have been avoided, if only people had learned to live with each other. And now these Elves have no home at all.
He wipes away a stray tear, one he hadn't noticed falling in the first place, and does his best to put on a brave face before looking back up at Ellana. She doesn't want to talk about it anymore, and that's fine. It's a bit of a relief, really, to think about (hopefully) happier things for a while, even if the prospect of talking about himself stumps him a bit.
"Well I don't know that there's much to say, least not that'd be of any interest to an Elf," he says, ducking his head a bit. "You'd have been better off asking old Mr. Bilbo, if he were here. Now he could tell a story!"