Benedict wasn't smiling, per se, but he had a sort of open, pleasant expression at the sight of Thranduil-- a person he recognizes-- which abruptly wilts into one of nervous concern in response to the elf's words. Then there's Yseult, with whom he also has some dealings, and he sits up a little, hopeful, only to be met with that look from the third man, the man he doesn't know.

Though he looks uncertainly at Yseult, Flint's gaze is pinning him to the spot.
"...where's Coupe...?" he asks, at least having the good sense to be a little timid about it. Coupe, with whom he doesn't have the best history, but she was head of Forces last he knew, and having stood with her once, he was hoping for at least a shred of... what, loyalty? Sympathy?

Perhaps it was a foolish hope.