[ Peace. The word makes Celegorm want to weep, and laugh, all at once. His shoulders shook, and his ears were full still with the sounds of battle. ]

Peace is a dream, Legolas. A swiftly-fading dream that not even the Ainur could craft for themselves for long. I learned long ago that clinging to it precipitated only more suffering. I cannot say if I would not have attacked them in time. Caer Scima has made itself a home to me, who had been bereft of home, a beggared prince who had failed all who relied upon him. I swore when I came that I would not fail again, that I would not trust to an unreliable peace, that my vigilance would not waver.

Let others say I am an affront to the light; let them call me ignoble, blackguard, whatever words they wish. If I am effective, if I guard what I love well, if I honour my father, keep my oaths, and guard mine well, I am satisfied.

I thank you, for bargaining with them on my behalf. I wish it had come to better end.