He nods. A tiny, little gesture.

"She fled," he says. "They laid siege to our city and she fled and when she reached the top of the cliff - she fell." Jumped.

"So we are tokens now. Of the wrong done to the Sons of Feanor, called the Dispossessed, and to be kept until that wrong is set aright and their possessions returned to them or until they decide, of their own accord, to set us free." He has memorized it well.