V. (Feanaro)
"I'm surprised he came here at all, " sneered the spirit of the auburn-haired hunter, with no small degree of fresh bitterness. "I was convinced that my so-called 'father' would refuse the call of Mandos, for all that he values being contrarian above all else. I'd have thought that his spirit would cling to those gems of his, though they be cast into the bosom of the earth."
To this, the Doomsman of the Valar made one solemn, final answer:
"Not above all."
The words were neither judgment nor excuse, just an inexorable, factual statement, underlined by the motion of a spindly, robed arm, revealing to the young soul beside him something like a spotlight, and the three figures contained within.
Something like a stain of soot and ash, and a man weeping in the depths of utmost misery, held in the arms of a familiar pair of figures.
The keeper of this place had no need to say any more. The point he meant to make was all but self-evident.
"So he was not so deluded that he wouldn't know that they would be here."
"He knew you would be, too."