Still the Elvenking did not move, merely stood still and watched. There was, in his eyes, something soft and like pain, but it was clouded behind layers of reserve.

"Do you wish me to help?"

Something in his voice, still so soft, sounded almost vulnerable. He wanted it gone, that would be enough. If it worked. If he wasn't wrong. Dear Valar, dear Ilúvatar, do not let him be wrong.