"My soul has not yet burned too hot to overwhelm my body." Not yet- and not for a long while. While of the First Age, he had not risen to the heights of his power at the time. He was in little danger of exhausting himself here. Thranduil tilted his head to the right, and set about picking some of the little details he could take as an inclination of Solas' age.

When the other elf had smiled, and his eyes had crinkled, there were lines at his eyes, much like Thranduil's own, laugh lines too- but no elf ever wore their age cleanly, unless they had seen treelight and glowed from it.

"Tell me, cousin," warmly, again acknowledging Solas as kin, as welcome, as family and elven and afforded the same protections because of that. "How old are you?"