[ Oh he feels this power, he knows it already. It tickles and tugs on his thoughts, weaving between them and leaving an impression. So strong and clear it may just as well be the perfect mark of Celegorm's conviction, branded upon his very soul. Much in the same fashion he had branded his skin, yet bringing comfort instead of agony. It soothes like the sweetest balm and his breath trembles now. No longer does he have any tears that could fall with this relief, with this realisation that Celegorm is right. With time Legolas would realise it himself, not without stumbling, not without wavering, yet he's spared this trial and error.

He sits back, with a sigh, eyes closing. ]

Even here, on this land that carried him, in the face of the Sun that touched him, though it is not Arda. Even here holds memories good and precious, after ninety years that I have not seen him.

[ No matter though, there is a thought that nags him and finally Legolas voices it, looking at the locket once more, though his voice grows uncertain. ]

You are weary, your thoughts should not be with me. Waste not your power, for you may need it...

[ He trails off, biting the inside of his lower lip, his expression set into a frown, confusion apparent yet the locket only carries the silence that follows. Finally though, he breaks it again to add. ]

Though once more I owe you my thanks.