Elrohir leaned on the ship's railing, his face turned aft watching the dark line of Middle-earth sink out of sight. "Did we do the right thing?"
"Second thoughts, brother?"
"Always." He gave Elladan a twisted smile. "I am the thoughtful one, just as you are the rash one."
"You both know we could not stay." Celeborn's voice was soft. "And yet, what will those we left do now? Did we abandon them?"
"Thranduil remains, determined never to leave; and those who remain know to find him."
"I will miss the Second-born," Elrohir sighed.
"As will I."
Celeborn remained silent. Torn.
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