Chapter 28

May 3020, Edoras

The capital of Rohan was located on a great hill that shot up from the plains like some fist of an earth giant. In the light of glorious morning of May, it looked like the roof of the Golden Hall was on fire, but Glorfindel knew it was just a trick created by sunlight hitting the gilded roof. Nevertheless it was a sight he stopped to marvel for a while before he urged his horse forward.

His visit in Orthanc had taken longer than he had first planned, but that was not something he regretted: he had a feeling he would not have another chance of speaking with the Shepherds of the Trees. Altogether it had been a fascinating visit, and he'd return Imladris with many, many stories.

From Isengard he had ridden to Helm's Deep, where he had spent a week or so, tremendously entertained by the dwarves who were working there in the Glittering Caves. Then word had arrived that Éomer King had returned from Dol Amroth and Glorfindel had decided he'd continue his journey. If the King's hospitality allowed it, he'd stop in Edoras for a while, after which he'd continue to Minas Tirith. It would probably prove a lengthy trip, but he hoped to be back in Rivendell to perhaps join Lord Elrond for that one last journey West, or at least bid farewell to his old friend. Though Glorfindel knew their time here in Middle-earth was coming to an end, he felt there were still few things he had to do... though he was not so certain yet what those things were.

When he finally rode to the yard of the Golden Hall, a stablehand came to receive his steed; Glorfindel thanked the helpful man with a smile and strode for the stone steps leading up to Meduseld. He more or less expected to see excited, light-hearted bustle about there, something that would imply an approaching royal wedding. But that was not what he saw. Instead, Glorfindel noticed solemn faces, and he wondered what this was about. Surely there would have been a happy atmosphere now that the Princess had returned alive? She and her King had been talking of marriage when he had last seen them, and both of them had been so hopeful...

His thoughts were interrupted then as young Erfréa approached him, her stride something between a walk and a run.

"My lord Glorfindel!" she exclaimed happily at the sight of him, and then the girl grabbed him in an affectionate hug that nearly knocked the breath out of him.

"Lady Erfréa. Good to see you too", smiled the elf when she pulled back.

"Welcome to Meduseld! I trust your journey went well?" she asked.

"It was pleasant but mostly uneventful. I came back as soon as I heard your King had returned from Dol Amroth. Tell me, when does the royal wedding take place?" Glorfindel inquired.

At that, her smile became a frown, and she hesitated. He was about to ask what was wrong when another Rohir approached. Though he was aged and years had turned his hair white, his back was still straight and he walked with a warrior's gait. On his face, there was a friendly smile. Erfréa turned and gestured at the man.

"My lord, this is Gamling. He's one of the King's trusted men. Gamling, this is Lord Glorfindel from Lord Elrond's household", she introduced the Rohir and the elf to each other.

"I bid you most welcome to Edoras, my lord. What business brings you here?" he asked and bowed his head.

"Well met, Master Gamling. I was hoping to meet with the King. Is he in residence?" asked the elf, casting a glance about as if the Lord of the Mark might appear any moment. But the tall golden-haired man was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, he is", Gamling said and a troubled look briefly appeared on his face, and it was not entirely unlike that of Erfréa's. "I must say, Béma himself must have sent you."

"Why is that?" Glorfindel asked. He was growing more curious by the second. Something was obviously wrong here and it bothered him very much. "I hope the King is not in poor health, at least."

"My lord is hale as ever, at least as far as matters of the heart are not concerned", answered Erfréa and shook her head.

"Has something happened to Princess Lothíriel? Surely she has not changed her mind?" Glorfindel asked, though he did not even know how that would have been possible. At his question, the two Rohirs shared a glance and they sighed almost simultaneously.

"It does concern the Princess, yes. But it is not her fault that things have been somewhat unhappy here as of late", he said quietly. "Forgive me – we are being most unwelcoming here. Surely you'd prefer refreshment before talking about these matters?"

"Not at all. If something is wrong with Éomer King and Princess Lothíriel, then I wish to know it right away. I consider them both my dear friends", Glorfindel argued.

Gamling nodded and lead the elf to sit by one of the tables nearby, and Erfréa followed after them. A servant brought them some ale, and the old man poured cups for them. Glorfindel wasn't much of a friend of ale but he accepted a cup mostly out of politeness. Once the old Rohir had taken a long sip of his drink, he began to speak.

"After our King returned with the Princess, it seemed that all our troubles were finally past and that peace would take root here in Meduseld. The two of them floated about like two love-birds and never really came down before they left for Gondor. She had to be reunited with her family, of course, and Éomer King decided to escort her to Dol Amroth her home. So we were left waiting and hoping that once he'd return, it would be with news of an engagement made official. Granted, he did ask for her hand in marriage, but Prince Imrahil said no", he started the explanation and took another sip of ale. The elf listened quietly, barely remembering his own cup.

"Don't ask us why that is. It didn't make any sense then and it does not make sense now", Erfréa commented with a grimace. She too took a mighty gulp of ale.

"The King himself won't speak of it, of course. But Lady Erfréa here was present and saw herself what precisely took place, so perhaps I should allow her to tell the rest of the story", Gamling said slowly. The young woman nodded.

"Gladly, Master Gamling", she said and cleared her throat. "After Imrahil had made it known he would not give his consent, Éomer King was very upset of course. Well, what do you expect with that temper of his? But Lothig was outraged too – I've never seen her so angry. So, two days after, he made the attempt of stealing her and bringing her back to Rohan. Some people are eager to insist it was the King's idea, but I would have you know that the Princess Lothíriel was the one who came up with the plan. She asked him to take her with him."

"I take it this plan did not go too well", Glorfindel said softly, and Erfréa nodded.

"You are correct. He was able to smuggle her out of the castle in the middle of night and start for the journey. Everything went well until we were half-way down to the city gates. Then two of her brothers, who were returning from some nightly adventure of theirs, came across us and of course they recognised her right away. Guards were called... and you can very well guess what happened next. We were lucky there was no bloodshed at least", said the young woman. She frowned and continued: "Imrahil would likely have declared war on Rohan had King Elessar not been there to mediate. Be it as may, Éomer King left the city that same night and he seems to have decided never to speak again with Lothig's father – who appears to share the sentiment."

"And the King did not try to get to the Princess again?" Glorfindel asked.

"Aye, I suppose he would have, had not Imrahil made it clear that he would not be allowed to see the Princess again. The moment Lothig's father made the judgement Éomer King had tried to abduct her, he surrounded her with heavily armed Swan Knights. Getting to her would have meant cutting down some of Dol Amroth's finest", Erfréa said, shaking her head.

"So, Imrahil has effectively imprisoned his own daughter", the elf said at length, barely believing what he had just heard.

"Insane, isn't it? But they say Prince Imrahil hasn't been the same ever since her disappearance, and even if she has been returned alive, it has not done anything to console him. I suppose the Prince is just scared of losing her again, and the attempted abduction really did not help him get over it. For people do mad things for love – especially when they are hurt", Gamling sighed.

"I see", Glorfindel said, half to himself. "Where might I find the King? I'd like to exchange couple of words with him."

"He's outside. I'll take you to him, if it please you", Erfréa offered.

"It would, very much", said the Elven lord, and he offered the two of them a smile.

Out they went, and the young woman lead him to the backside of the Golden Hall. Halfway there, she looked at him in concern, "It would mean much to me, and all of us really, if you could help our King... and our Princess as well. She is our princess too, after all."

Glorfindel conjured an encouraging smile on his face.

"I will do what I can, Lady Erfréa. I promise that. I wish to see your King and the Princess happy just as you do", he promised, which brought a smile on her features too.

They turned around the corner then, and there on a stone bench sat the King of Rohan. He was concentrating on a piece of wood in his hands, which he was carving with a look that might imply he was working on something that would change the course of history.

"My lord", Erfréa called carefully, but the King did not lift his eyes from his work. "My lord, Master Glorfindel is here to see you."

The mention of the elf's name finally sparked Éomer's attention. He put the piece of wood aside and stood up. Though he seemed tired and just generally grim, he did smile as he stood up and approached the elf.

"Good to see you here, friend. Welcome to Meduseld", he said and lay a hand on Glorfindel's shoulder. The elf answered his friend's smile.

"Likewise, Éomer. Might I join you?" he asked.

"Of course, of course. I trust Lady Erfréa has already looked after you?" inquired the Rohir and gestured the other one to sit beside him on the bench. The young woman gave her king an inquisitive look, but a small gesture from her King signalled she could go ahead and return to her own duties.

"I wished to speak with you at first", Glorfindel said as he settled down. After a moment of silence, he spoke up again, "She told me what happened in Dol Amroth."

A look of regret briefly appeared on the young king's face and he let out a heavy sigh. He picked up the wood he had been working on and turned it about in his hands. It was mostly shapeless yet, but Glorfindel thought he could already see something like a bird's beak.

"And a merry story that must have been", Éomer said quietly, staring down at the wood. "Before you start to lecture me, I know I did wrong when I tried to steal her. I see now that all it accomplished was making Imrahil an enemy and ensuring that what chance there was for him to relent was lost. But I was so upset... and I couldn't stand the idea of losing her again. One does not really think in that sort of situation."

He sighed again, and continued, "It's horrible, to have all that you could dream of just at the reach of your hand, and then it is taken away once again. Life without her is a crude joke... but at least she's alive and safe."

"I am very sorry to hear what happened", Glorfindel said empathetically. "It is... I suppose I see why he would do what he did, even if it is wrong. Losing a child is a horror to any parent who loves their offspring, and the prospect of losing her again probably scared him senseless."

Éomer grunted as an answer. As he sat there staring down, he somehow was able to embody so much bitterness and unhappiness that it wrenched the elf's heart as well.

"What does Aragorn say?" he asked. "I don't imagine he was too happy with the situation either?"

"No, he wasn't", said the young king quietly. "Especially because he can't take sides. He was literally caught in between rock and a hard place. He's the King of Gondor after all... he has to keep up peace and make compromises. I was angry with him too at first – at least until I realised how I owe it to him that there's no war between Rohan and Dol Amroth now. Later I heard he tried to reason with Imrahil, but the Prince won't hear any of it... not even from Aragorn."

"But he's the King of Gondor. He could order Imrahil to give Lothíriel's hand in marriage to you", Glorfindel said.

"Aye, he could. But Aragorn won't do that. The Prince is one of his chief lieutenants and it would only raise bad blood between them if he tried to make her father do something he is so against", Éomer sighed.

"I see", Glorfindel said thoughtfully. He was already thinking his visit in Edoras would have to be a lot shorter than he had originally perceived. In fact, he would probably have to drop the trip to Minas Tirith as well. This situation could not go on like this any longer, not when peace and a conclusion to the times of uncertainty was so needed.

He placed a hand on the young king's shoulder and gave him a kind smile.

"Do not fret, my friend. I will go and visit the Prince and his family. And I will speak with Imrahil of all this", he promised gently.

"I'm thankful, but what could you possibly say to change his mind?" Éomer asked, his face doubtful.

"It may very well be that I can tell him just the thing he needs to hear. And perhaps time has done half my work for me. He can't be so stubborn as to not understand how this situation strains the relations between the two realms in a way that can't go on", Glorfindel told him.

"Thank you, my friend. If you can turn Imrahil's head, then I will be forever in your debt", said the young king heartily, and for the first time, the elf could see hope in his dark eyes. Glorfindel smiled.

"Oh, it is nothing. I watched Lothíriel linger too long in the shadows and I don't want her to fall back there again. If there is anything I can do, I will do it gladly."


In some ways, it felt like time had just stopped moving. Or perhaps it was that she was motionless while the time dragged by. Days were long, to the point of merging to one another. And days were grey.

Lothíriel did not have to ask why it felt like that. He had been close by ever since he had ridden to Rivendell, and his presence had felt like waking up from a long and dark dream. Now she felt like she was falling back to that dream with no knowledge if she'd be awakened again.

She did as she was told. She ate, she slept, she worked in the House of Healing. She spoke if something was asked and sat silent if not. Sometimes, she didn't know where the time went. She'd just look up from her hands and notice that the evening had fallen while she had been lost in her thoughts. One time, she picked up a green cloth and started to embroider it: the White Horse appeared as if by itself. She remembered how it looked like in the banners, and sometimes it would race through her dreams. And those were the good dreams.

Sometimes, when she missed him more than usual, she'd go and sit with Sunrise in the stables. Father had said she wasn't allowed to go riding, not for some time at least. Apparently he thought she might try and escape. But Lothíriel had once ridden alone into the wild and she had no wish to do it again.

The Princess remembered being angrier than she had ever been before, shouting until her throat hurt and then crying and crying until she was exhausted. She had refused sleep and food. None of it had changed anything, though. Then one morning she had gotten up, sat down at the breakfast table, and ate what they offered her. Aredhel said it would get better and she waited for the day that would come true, but she wasn't sure when that would be. The old her, one that had not got lost in the wild, might have found that easy. But after the darkness she had endured... she was not the same, not anymore.

She saw the looks on their faces, of course. How they'd each day be more worried, how they lowered their voices as they whispered and she knew what they thought. Well, they saw her and heard her when the nightmares came. Her brothers thought she was losing it. That wasn't probably so untrue.

And yet a small part of remained, though it felt like becoming smaller each passing day, that still thought of sun and dreamed of life and things like that; that part had been so large before and she wondered how it could have grown so small. But she was starting to understand it was a more vulnerable part than she had thought. It was something that had been hurt in the wild and it had not healed, not completely. Quietly, she wondered what would happen on that day when the last of it would die.


Glorfindel made haste on his way to Dol Amroth, and so it was in about a week later that he arrived to the city of princes by the sea. Most of his hurry was because of his concern for Lothíriel: he feared how this all had affected her and how he'd find her once he'd arrive. He had spent so much time watching her walk in the shadows that it was not something he wished to see again.

As such, he took little note of the city itself as he travelled through it, and even less he paid attention to the awed faces of the common folk, for Elven riders rarely came this way. Perhaps there would be time for seeing the city later, when all things had been taken care of... and hopefully with success.

The palace stood proud facing the sea; it reminded Glorfindel of the cities the men of Númenor had built. And the sight of the vastness of the waters made him feel like something whispered in his mind and called him home. It was a tempting thought, but in his heart he answered: Soon.

He had just entered the palace courtyard and dismounted when a young man approached. He was one of Imrahil's sons, Glorfindel remembered. He had met them all in Minas Tirith when Arwen Undómiel had wed Estel, and it seemed that those troubled looks they had worn then had become permanent. The prince who now approached him was Imrahil's second-born, called Erchirion.

"My lord Glorfindel", called the prince, evidently surprised that the elf would be here.

"Prince Erchirion", greeted Glorfindel and nodded politely at the man.

"What brings you here in Dol Amroth? I thought you parted ways with my sister some time ago", Erchirion commented, looking rather curious.

"That I did, but I wished to come and visit the Princess here in her home city. Where might I find your sister? I have something for her", said the Elven lord.

"She was with our aunt and sister-in-law", Erchirion said. "I'd think Father would want to greet you as well."

"And I have business with the Prince too. But at first I'd like to speak with your sister, if that would be possible", Glorfindel insisted. He had to see how the girl was doing and that was something which could not wait for later.

"Of course. Follow me", said the prince, and lead Glorfindel inside. Apparently his presence here was found curious more or less, as some of the people they passed by gave them incredulous looks. But the elf maintained a serene smile as he followed the young man through the stone corridors of the palace.

They found the three women in a sitting room that apparently belonged to Lady Ivriniel, Imrahil's sister who according to Lothíriel had acted as something of a mother figure for the Prince's children after their mother had died. She was a noble and formidable-looking woman, and her silver hair was in elaborate braids. She wore the traditional blues and silvers of Dol Amroth, as did the two younger women with her. Glorfindel took only short notice of Lothíriel's companions he took for hand-maidens, for he had not come for anyone else than the maiden he had once called Sídhadonnen. As soon as he sighted her, his attention was solely on the Lion's Lady – like some had started to call her back in Rohan.

The last time Glorfindel had seen the Princess, she had been smiling and in good cheer. She had been happy too, and full of thirst for life. Of course, her occasional nightmares had given him doubts about whether she truly was healed yet, but altogether he had felt reassured that she'd be fine. True, she smiled now as she saw him and dashed into his arms. However, it was not lost to him how deeply unwell she looked: she was thinner and like she had been losing sleep lately, and the expression in her eyes disturbed him very much. It was like she was once again becoming that miserable, joyless woman who had wandered the halls of Imladris while the phantoms of her past haunted her mind.

So he held her tight and felt a small tremble go through her. When he pulled back, he thought she'd burst in tears. But she did not, and rather watched him with the eyes of someone who was about to give up.

"Dearest Lothíriel", he said gently. "I am sorry I haven't been able to come sooner."

"Better late than never", she answered softly, and a small smile appeared on her face. "You have been sorely missed."

"Well, here I am now", Glorfindel answered. He gave her a smile, something he hoped would encourage her as well.

"Did you meet with the Ents, like you were planning?" she asked. The elf nodded in agreement.

"Indeed I did. And I will tell you all about it later... but first I must give you something", he said and reached for the purse that hung from his belt and pulled out the scroll Éomer King had given him. "Here's little something from Edoras. He asked me to give it to you."

For the first time, something that resembled light appeared in her eyes.

"You've seen him? How is he?" she eagerly asked; neither of them paid any heed to the displeased snort from Lady Ivriniel's direction.

"He is well, but he misses you very much", Glorfindel said quietly. He smiled, "Go ahead. I'm sure you're eager to read his message."

Lothíriel flashed a smile, the first real one he had seen so far, and she hurried out to read the King's letter in peace. Once she was out, her aunt stood up.

"She's not supposed to receive any letters from that man", said the woman with no little annoyance. Glorfindel returned her gaze steadily.

"Is she not? Well, then I dare you to go and take that note from her, my lady. Go and do it, if you can bear watching the smile die on her face", he said sternly. Lady Ivriniel pursed her lips but did not say anything. She fell back on her seat and looked like she was trying to pretend he wasn't there.

Glorfindel sighed. It looked like there was a balrog here to be fought, and he would have to be the one to cast it down.


Prince Imrahil was in his study, going through some reports, when Glorfindel was escorted in. The man looked up from his work and looked surprised when he saw the elf standing there.

"My lord Glorfindel", he said, lifting his eyebrows. "I did not know you were on your way here. To what do I owe this honour?"

The elf did not exactly smile as he met the Prince's gaze. The man must have seen it, for a frown came to his face.

"I came for Lothíriel. And it seems it is a good thing I did, seeing what you have done to her", Glorfindel said, his voice unforgiving. Imrahil's face turned dark at those words, and the elf recognised he would not give up easily.

"With all due respect, I do not think this concerns you", said the Prince coolly.

"Oh, it does, my lord. It very much does", the Elven lord said in calm tones.

"And why would you think that?" Imrahil asked, staring hard at him.

"Because the night I saw her for the first time, I decided I'd like to see her smile again. It was no life what she had in Imladris, wandering about like one caught in a dull haze of dreams. But no matter what we did, nothing really worked – nothing made her wish to join the living again. Not at least until the day the King of Rohan rode to find her. Imrahil, you should have seen her then! How that girl laughed and smiled and cried just because he had come for her!" Glorfindel said. Then he shook his head, "Yet now I've come to see her, and she's once again becoming that troubled shadow of a woman that she was in Imladris. I thought that was past."

"Do not mention that man while I'm listening. I do not wish to hear anything of him", Imrahil said sharply.

"Don't you hear yourself, Imrahil? Don't you see what you're doing to your own daughter?" asked the elf, his voice just as sharp. "What is your excuse to torment her so?"

"I am not tormenting her! Nor are my reasons excuses!" snapped the Prince. "Her time in Rohan brought her nothing but horror and unhappiness. She was lost to us and who knows what shadows she went through? I will not let her return there!"

"You are grasping at straws, my lord. What horrors she faced there were not because of Éomer King or any of his people. He did everything in his power to keep her safe, and even now he'd give his very life for her. That your daughter was lost was because of a shadow that followed her from her own home city!" Glorfindel argued. "And to say that her time in Rohan was but horror is a lie. She told me herself that the greatest happiness she has known she found in the Mark."

Imrahil fumed at that, and the elf could tell he was desperately trying to come up with something – some reason that would convince not only Glorfindel, but also himself. Realising a gentler approach might be needed, he sighed and softened his tone as he spoke.

"I know you are scared of letting her go. And I realise it is even harder now. That is the reason you do this, isn't it? You can't stand the idea of seeing her leave again. But you must set your daughter free, Imrahil. This I don't ask you to do for Éomer or Rohan, but for Lothíriel herself", Glorfindel said gently.

"No. No. I can't do that. It's just an infatuation – she'll get over it, she'll-" said the Prince, with just a vaguest hint of desperation in his voice.

"She has loved Éomer almost as long as she has lived, and you know it as well, Imrahil", the Elven lord interrupted. "And she will not get over it. She won't forget him – even in Imladris, when she could remember nothing else, she dreamt of him. He was what she remembered. He was the one who brought Lothíriel back."

"It's just for her own good", her father tried, though Glorfindel could see the distress growing in his eyes. It was not a thing he enjoyed seeing, but the Prince had to understand this.

"I don't think even you really believe that, Imrahil. What you are doing to her is killing her", he said gravely.

"No. It's not like that. Lothíriel is not like that", Imrahil argued back. "She's not Finduilas!"

"Perhaps not the Lothíriel you know and remember. But she's not that girl any longer. She's not the person you sent to Rohan, Imrahil. And if you truly can't see how unwell she is, then I can only assume you are blind", Glorfindel answered. "No matter what, you will lose her. Either she'll waste away until there's nothing left in her that you once loved, or you let her go and pursue the desire of her heart. It is up to you, Imrahil. Your daughter will leave, but whether it is to death or to life is for you to choose."


As so often these days, Éomer King of Rohan sat watching the sun make its descent to west and behind the white peaks of the mountains. The sky blazed in reds and oranges and gold as another brilliant day of spring came to an end.

Absently, he turned the finished work around in his hands, feeling the contours and lines he had carved under his fingers. He thought of her, like he usually did when he was alone: what she was doing now, how had she fared after his departure, and if she was very angry with him...

He shouldn't have left her like that. He should have come up with something to reconcile with Imrahil – but he had been so furious, and instead of thinking things through he had let his temper get the better of him. And the Prince had made it very clear that he was not wanted in Dol Amroth. So, in outrage and despair, he had jumped on Firefoot and ridden away. Only when he was back in Edoras and her absence was hammering in his chest with fire and ice did he realise what mistake he had made.

Oh, Lothíriel. What a mindless idiot he had been when he had abandoned her! No wounded pride was worth losing her.

The young king sighed to himself and rubbed his forehead. Glorfindel had gone to her, and perhaps the Elven lord could make her believe how sorry he was. And maybe... he dared not to hope, but maybe Glorfindel would also find a way to reason with Imrahil.

The sun had set, and he felt tired. So he got up on his feet and slowly made his way back inside. Though sleep was an elusive beast these days, Éomer decided he should at least try and have some rest. Another day filled with work was ahead of him and it would not do if he snored away his meetings with the advisers.

Once in the royal bedchamber, he lay the result of his carving work beside the wooden horse. There it sat, more eloquent than his handicraft of many years ago. He had been but a boy then... unknowing of the road before him, and his princess.

In a way, it was fitting: perhaps he was just as coarse as the horse was and she as graceful as the swan.


A/N: This was one of those chapters that pretty much wrote itself. So you get an early update and bit more angst.

Now, a couple of words on Imrahil's actions (and, I suppose, as an answer to Talia199 and memory bleeds). He does seem to be acting irrational here, no? memory bleeds rightly noted that it doesn't seem to make much sense that he'd be scared of what will happen in Rohan if she goes to live there. That is pretty much the point: he's not being rational. He's not thinking straight. He's thinking as a father who has been deeply hurt by the disappearance of his child. Ultimately, his disapproval of Éomer marrying Lothíriel is because - like Glorfindel says - he is scared of letting his daughter go. So he tells no. And our love-birds don't improve the situation with their attempt to run away together. In fact, it is just hitting Imrahil where it hurts the most at the moment. However, neither of them realise how this wounds her father because they're just so desperate to be together, and as a result Imrahil reacts very angrily and violently. Now, are his reactions rational? No, definitely not. But are they human? I think so, yes. Essentially I think all their reactions in this chapter are very human. Flawed, but human.

As for Lothíriel... well, though she was certainly improving and feeling better after Éomer came to Rivendell, I personally felt she was not completely healed yet. As Aragorn noted in the last chapter, for her final remedy she needs to move on with her life. However, being denied that has a not so good effect on her recovery. The shock of her father's disapproval, the abduction gone wrong, and then Éomer leaving all come as a shock that has her in a way moving backwards. So here you see her deeply unwell, and Éomer doesn't even know that she's at that state because he has not have word of her ever since he left Dol Amroth. He'd probably try to breach her home palace if he did know how unwell she is. But we'll see where this all goes now that Glorfindel has come to talk sense.

Thanks for comments and for reading!