The sorrow in Aragorn's voice and eyes inspires a terrible ache in his chest, and Finel has to channel the sudden desire to lean in for more touch into a reassuring squeeze of his hand instead.
"I don't know," he admits gently. There's something too familiar about the blue of his eyes, a memory never far from his heart yet still dulled with the passage of time. It's comforting and bittersweet all at once.
"But I don't believe so. They said that it took a great amount of magic to bring us here, at the expense of their own strength. They cannot afford to be so careless if they truly need our help."
Finel manages a small, encouraging smile again, attempting to lighten the heaviness between them.
"I do not think you are wrong for being willing to fight, lethallin," the word slips out automatically, his lips twitching a little despite himself. "Your passion is...admirable."
But understanding such decisive faith and conviction has always eluded him. Perhaps it was more akin to his induction into the Inquisition - a strange mark on his hand with a power only he could use, with technically the option to walk away if he wanted to leave the whole world in peril. Aragorn had done what he thought he needed to do, except that he isn't alone. He may be the only one here from his homeland, but he is far from the only one who could fight this particular battle.
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"I don't know," he admits gently. There's something too familiar about the blue of his eyes, a memory never far from his heart yet still dulled with the passage of time. It's comforting and bittersweet all at once.
"But I don't believe so. They said that it took a great amount of magic to bring us here, at the expense of their own strength. They cannot afford to be so careless if they truly need our help."
Finel manages a small, encouraging smile again, attempting to lighten the heaviness between them.
"I do not think you are wrong for being willing to fight, lethallin," the word slips out automatically, his lips twitching a little despite himself. "Your passion is...admirable."
But understanding such decisive faith and conviction has always eluded him. Perhaps it was more akin to his induction into the Inquisition - a strange mark on his hand with a power only he could use, with technically the option to walk away if he wanted to leave the whole world in peril. Aragorn had done what he thought he needed to do, except that he isn't alone. He may be the only one here from his homeland, but he is far from the only one who could fight this particular battle.