[ Iorveth would frame it the other way around. The elves in Thedas have something vital that those on the Continent do not - a possible future. There's still many of them, the Dalish are a whole community with families and children and a way of life. The Aen Seidhe, however, while long-lived, are fertile only in the beginnings of their lives. The largest part that brought them so low, dancing now on the edge of extinction. They live, now, only in cities, and those in the forests are the Scoia'tael alone, hunted falsely as war criminals after Nilfgaard and Dol Blathanna's betrayal of them, so many sacrificed for a sanctuary of the elderly and sterile.
His race is in their death throes, despite what years they retain. It will take a miracle to raise them back from their endangered numbers. One blessing they have that those of Thedas lack, though, is the memory in those longer lives. They haven't lost near so much of their history, even if much of it has faded in the 1,500 years since their civilization's destruction. They'll at least fade with the pride and identity of their people intact, for the most part. If it's come to that, Iorveth will see to it they go in with battle cry, rather than a whimper. ]
One-hundred twenty-seven. Adult, but still considered young for my people. [ Iorveth admits, feeling small in the face of Thranduil's people, and given Galadriel had just mentioned knowing more of their history than any other, she must be beyond even his years. ]
And you? I take it you're one who even Thranduil seems young in the eyes of? [ as she'd mentioned when the thought of ages first came up. ]
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His race is in their death throes, despite what years they retain. It will take a miracle to raise them back from their endangered numbers. One blessing they have that those of Thedas lack, though, is the memory in those longer lives. They haven't lost near so much of their history, even if much of it has faded in the 1,500 years since their civilization's destruction. They'll at least fade with the pride and identity of their people intact, for the most part. If it's come to that, Iorveth will see to it they go in with battle cry, rather than a whimper. ]
One-hundred twenty-seven. Adult, but still considered young for my people. [ Iorveth admits, feeling small in the face of Thranduil's people, and given Galadriel had just mentioned knowing more of their history than any other, she must be beyond even his years. ]
And you? I take it you're one who even Thranduil seems young in the eyes of? [ as she'd mentioned when the thought of ages first came up. ]