He closes his eyes once Iorveth's hand is in his own, the closest he will get to peace. His type of elves do not pray by that name, and on top of that there are no Valar who might be listening, no intercession possible. Still, he is thankful, and sits with that feeling for lack of a better tribute to give.
"May this ward off more death," he says. "May everyone in Thedas see Corypheus for what he is, and shake the sloth from their limbs."
It is the only way forward. War is bitter, death is bitter, but he and Iorveth, at least, were dropped into this with no choices whatsoever. Gwenaelle has her shard. There were never any other options.
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"May this ward off more death," he says. "May everyone in Thedas see Corypheus for what he is, and shake the sloth from their limbs."
It is the only way forward. War is bitter, death is bitter, but he and Iorveth, at least, were dropped into this with no choices whatsoever. Gwenaelle has her shard. There were never any other options.