You haven't even picked it up yet! [Gabriel chuckles, elbowing his friend gently. But then Thorir has Thorin's sword in his hands and then he draws it, and he registers the ache in his chest only for a moment before he's flung back into a memory of shadow and flame and someone that there's only deep affection for as he falls beneath it, the sword clattering to stone.]
Ecthelion! [The name is shouted out loud, but then he realises what he's done and he glances from Eliot to Thorir, breath shuddering. He feels sick from this latest echo, the death of a close friend - a brother? And that creature. It feels him with dread in a way that he can't explain.] Sorry. I've seen that sword before.
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Ecthelion! [The name is shouted out loud, but then he realises what he's done and he glances from Eliot to Thorir, breath shuddering. He feels sick from this latest echo, the death of a close friend - a brother? And that creature. It feels him with dread in a way that he can't explain.] Sorry. I've seen that sword before.