Gil-Galad walked over to the tent nearby, nodding and smiling to those around him.

He opened the flap and took a deep breath, not knowing what he would meet inside. As it was, he saw Elenluin lying on his mattress, leg bandaged, apparently asleep.

He looked pensively to the other elf and turned around, planning to leave again.

"So he talked to you." Elenluin's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Yes, he came"

"Did you tell him?"

"No, I promised" he simply answered

Elenluin's eyes fluttered open, "Thank you." He took a deep breath and pushed himself to sitting position. "He was very angry with me... I will have to talk to him later."

Gil-Galad slowly nodded, "that might be a good idea, he is confused."

"I know and rightly so. Blame it on tiredness and frustration, today was not a great day, despite what we gained." A tortured look crossed his face. Within seconds, his expression returned to the usual composed calmness, but the King was not fooled. He knew how hard the day had been on Elenluin. He dared not probe further though, as it seemed that the other was not planning to discuss it with him.

"Elrond is a good man, Ereinion. He is wise, just and kind. He just needs to accept that he cannot help everyone. I will talk to him." Speaking, Elenluin heaved himself up and Ereinion came quickly to his aid.

When the smith was standing, leaning on his good leg and holding his brother's shoulder, he looked the other in the eyes. "Now that this is done, you should start giving some thought on what you want to do here in the East. Elrond managed more than well in Imladris, and if I were you, I would think of making his position somewhat more official."

"Speak further?"

"Ereinion, everyone knows he is as a son to you, and he is an excellent leader, give him some responsibility to confirm his station. I know you would like to keep him with you in Lindon, but reality is that there are very few men of his talent around, and he deserves to have his own place to learn how to rule and build his own circle of advisors. If ever anything happens…" he did not continue the sentence.

"You want me to appoint him as my successor?" Ereinion softly said.

"No, I don't. It would divide our people unnecessarily. Some of them would never accept a quarter-Noldor half-elf as their king, despite him being the great-grandson of Turgon. Besides… it is not too late to get a heir yourself."
Gil-Galad started to protest, but was interrupted by the smith. "No, my brother, I know how you feel about it, but it is not something we should tell the people. On something that personal, you need to be free to change your mind, whenever you want… What I would do is call him officially your second in command. I'm sure you can think of a title that would match that position."

Ereinion did not seem convinced. "I will consider it. We will anyway have to hold council soon, and invite Cirdan, Celeborn and Galadriel."

Elenluin squeezed his shoulder slightly, "I agree. Celeborn seems to have stayed behind in Imladris to hold the valley. But that we can still talk later, now go out to the feast, the men will miss you."

"Elrond is already there, he will keep them entertained" the King smiled "and the same is valid for you, my friend, your men will want to see you. Will you manage to go?"

"If I can find someone to support me to go there, I will, although I shouldn't stay too long, to not upset our peredhel friend even more." Elenluin had to admit to himself he did not feel hungry at all and wanted nothing more than to stay within his own tent in his current state, but knew he could not leave his men alone tonight, not now they had their so hard fought victory. For the few surviving smiths and apprentices that had taken service in his troops, for all the ones that had been involved in the siege of Eregion, he had to show his gratitude somehow.

"Lean on me." The King said "I'm sure we can find your armour bearer out there somewhere, or I'll get you to your seat myself." and as they slowly started to walk, Gil-Galad repeated, "don't worry, lean on me."

He could not know Elenluin's carefully guarded thoughts, I already do, brother, without you, I would have been lost a long time ago.

It was getting later, and Elenluin felt not well. The exhaustion of the events of the day, the blood loss, combined with a cup of wine, even if it had only been one to keep up appearances, was taking its toll.

Aside from those that had been assigned watch duty, almost all were drunk now, and rowdy shouting could be heard around the different fires.

The smith looked around, there was no chance of him returning alone to his tent, he knew his leg would not support him. He did not want to interrupt Gil-Galad though, who seemed to be laughing and enjoying himself in the company of men, nor did he want to ask Elrond. He grimaced, one encounter was enough for today. When he saw young Teliglan passing by, he quickly gestured him to come over.

"Sir, what can I do for you?" the boy was smiling and seemed still sober enough to be able to come to his aid.

"Can you help me Teliglan? My leg won't allow me to walk without support."

As the young one approached, he indeed saw the bandage around the thigh of his commander. "I did not realise you were wounded sir. Do you want to go back to your tent?"

"Yes, if you have a few minutes" He started pushing himself up from where he was sitting, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Teliglan quickly supported him as he got up and together they started walking towards the commander's tent, which was fortunately not far away. The young one felt how heavily his superior had to lean on him, and was happy when they could enter. He carefully let Elenluin down on his mattress.

As he was sitting, the commander looked up, and with a hoarse voice said "Thank you, Teliglan, I would appreciate it if you kept this for yourself."

"But sir, do I not have to get a healer? Will you be all right?"

Elenluin nodded, and straightened his back, "don't worry, I just need to rest a little, tomorrow I will be fine. Blow out the candle when you leave, will you?"

He saw the young boy depart, and started to undress. Halfway through, his tunic removed, chest bare, he hesitated. He was sweating and shivering, and knew he had a fever from wound and exhaustion. But his mind was clearer than the hours before, and all the events of the day came back to him, in this small moment of quiet solitude. As the sounds of the feast outside continued, he felt the despair and loneliness creeping back. Nothing had been really won, but the one they were after was now so far away that pursuit would be pointless. He suspected their enemy would retreat in his stronghold, licking his wounds. It meant that they had a good chance on peace – at least for a while. It meant as well that he had to find out what he wanted to do with his life next.

He reached in the dark for his nightshirt which had been taken out by his armour bearer some time before. No need to sleep in his clothes tonight, not like so many nights before. But as he stretched his arm to take it, his hand hesitated, and drifted to his dagger instead. He kept them ever within reach, a long soldier's life causing him to be restless without his weapons close. The black and silver dagger was sharp, he knew. He felt the almost unnoticeable scars in the palm of his left hand. Long ago it seemed now, that the dagger had left his marks there. He moved the blade up, sliding, pushing over his arm, gasping as he felt the cut. Tears were falling from his eyes, the salty water burning the open skin. The throbbing pain of his leg did not lessen by the sensation, and neither did it help the loneliness. This could not be the solution, there should be another way. It was probably the first time he ever felt convinced of that himself. When he laid the dagger down, he could not stop the tears or the shaking. And slowly reclining back on his mattress in the dark, he cried desperately for what was and what could have been.