True enough. Blackbeard, as his nickname implied very much, was more akin to a dwarf than Buck could ever dream to be. Still, beard was beard, especially when one let their drinks and food get stuck in it— which Legolas was glad, Buck was trying to be mindful about. He grinned in response, broad and cheeky, betraying just how true Buck's words were. Teasing just to tease! For one, it was really none of his business, and even if it were, he found Buck's beard, at least, suited him perfectly well.

The alcohol burned going down, almost painful in the first second, before it settled into pleasant warmth that just spread throughout his body from the belly. Relaxing and soothing. Though it was his companion's words that softened his expression into simple, warm amusement.

"Your love and pride of your home is admirable," he remarked, "Few in this day and age admit openly to such sentiments."

Then again, maybe it was a quality often found in those who would risk their lives for the fellow citizens, and more than that, for the fellow humans.

"I think you should go and visit, at least," take it from one who no longer can, but there was no need for such guilt. Legolas kept those words at bay, and continued easily with something else, something equally genuine. "We will hold the fort in your absence— unless the invitation stands, and you would take me with you. Then, I suppose they will still manage, if barely!"