"Oh," Galadriel said, her mirth overcome with a wash of something far less lively. It wasn't pity but, insofar as expressions were concerned, it was very near to it.

"Do not envy my world. It is a dark place; there are shadows there that do not sleep, evil that waits in the deepest places, and all things are fading to their doom."

As delighted and polite as she had been, her speech slowed as she spoke. Acknowledging these things aloud was a terrible task and one she would not have chosen to undertake, had she considered it. However, for all Zevran's kindness, she had mocked him. She could not apologize for her delight, it was honest, so she would give him the whole truth of things, instead.

"There is little light left in my world, and less still that can cast such things out." She let out a slow breath, but smiled at him still. "It is a fate I would wish on no land; drawing a comparison between them was untoward of me."

"In Arda, our Ages are ended upon great changes to the world. I have seen three and it is, thrice over, too many. I would be glad to see your age renamed, if the beasts are truly terrible, but not if it meant a new horror came upon you all."