Oropher refused to turn to come back to Doriath. That would mean he surrendered and finally admitted that Arvellon was gone.

Frost and ache, that creeped into Oropher's heart remained there and his spirit only freezed deeper the stronger he felt the failure that mercilessly choked him and throat that scorched with grief. Burning frost took more of his soul and once it will shatter he will be lost.

For a long time he and Taranir stood under the heavy rain with each passing moment exposing themselves to greater danger, because Oropher refused to move in any direction. Helplessness covered him with heavy thread and he didn't want to turn to come back to Doriath. He would prefer to remain on the plains and turn into a statue than turn and come back without Arvellon. Everything but this. And Taranir refused to leave his side. Their exhausted horses stepped from one leg to another to not sink in the mud, their heads were lowered in tiredness.

Oropher knew they should turn back, for everyone's good. But the lone thought about leaving their soldiers in hands of the enemy...leaving Arvellon out there...he couldn't do it on his own and it was finally Taranir who forced Oropher's horse to move and they started to go back towards Doriath. Oropher didn't protest – he didn't stop his horse nor he renewed his mad run through the plains. They were going back with empty hands.

Only when there were going back, Oropher realised how far they strode away. They bid their horses to gallop to reach faster the verge of the forests and get away from any dangers on the plains. But for Oropher the way went on and on. Shapes of trees were but a small form from where they were. Only then Oropher realised how far he rode beyond the Girdle. And he forced his soldiers to follow him.

As soon as they crossed the verge of the woods they slowed their horses to walk. Truth be told it was Taranir who decided what they were doing as Oropher stayed a bit behind and let his horse follow blindly Taranir's one while he stared down on his own saddle.

At some point it finally stopped raining and when dark clouds were gone, a sun warmed up the land once more. It was late afternoon. Their horses ride now shoulder to shoulder, with their own pace and shuffling ungracefully as their steeds were beyond tired. Neither Oropher or Taranir cared. They just rode next to each other in silence.

Oropher stared down at his horse's shoulders moving in walk. Emotions that not long ago were so vivid now seemed pointless. All his tries were for nothing, he still failed. And freezing cold biting further his soul made him feel it only more. He knew the bitter taste of defeat from the past – when he lost few duels with Orthon, when he lost to Egnaspen, to Galadhon, when he had to turn back his soldiers during the war...but leaving Arvellon behind was more mercilless than any of those alone and all of them combined, and it pained even more.

Arvellon was gone. Only this single thought was burned in his frozen heart – a mark of deafeat that will never fade. Oropher didn't manage to find his cousin and now Arvellon was gone. He was neither dead or alive, but he was painfully gone. A single sword is all that remained of him.

Their ride to the Tower was too long and he had too much time alone with his own thoughts. Taranir tried to talk to him from time to time, but Oropher either said something back shortly or didn't reply at all. Each step was taking him further away from Arvellon and he didn' even know where he was taken. For less than a moment Oropher wondered if Arvellon was truly taken away, if any of his soldiers were taken. Maybe all of them lied on the clearing and in the forest around, but some of their bodies were too mangled to be even taken for ones and Oropher didn't recognise his cousin. He cut off from those thoughts, one thing was clear – Arvellon was gone and there was no body to bury.

A gate to the Tower opened wide before them wide. Taranir lead them though it and from time to time he glanced on side to look at Oropher who was still looking down on his own saddle letting his horse follow Taranir's lead.

They stopped on the same courtyard where they previously rode into like a strong tide. There was nothing left of their previous strenght. They were back, but since their last visit everything changed.

Oropher followed Taranir's lead and dismounted, in a blink on an eye realising that he didn't know what to do next. His mind was empty enough that he couldn't decide what to do. But there was someone who decided for him what he should do.

Before Oropher managed to even properly look around, he was grabbed so stronly and sternly that it pained him horribly, but Oropher knew he had to follow. Whoever forced him to go, didn't make him walk for long – in a moment Oropher was pushed to some empty room and the door banged close so loudly that it was a signal enough for everyone to not interrupt.

'Have anything to say?' Mablung said as he stood wrathful in front of him and barely held down his voice. 'Why your soldiers came back without you? Why they looked haggard and fouled up like trampled rags?'

It was Oropher who felt like a trampled rag. He probably even looked like this. All of them looked like this, because Oropher forced them to follow him into the maze.

'Your horses are devasted, your young soldiers have terror written on their faces and you nearly finished up Faron with this ride of yours!' Mablung continued and for once Oropher remained silent. He didn't even look up at his commander. 'You allowed your division to be divided. You continued a journey without a thought of their well-being or safety. You left the Girdle and each one of you could have been killed!'

Oropher kept his silence. He couldn't deny what Mablung just said, it was all the truth. And he had no excuse for what he had done. Nothing justified him for putting his soldiers in danger. A thought what could have happened was like another icy needle in his soul. All his experience and training didn't save him from submitting to overwhelming panic. He lead his soldiers astray and it could have ended in yet another tragedy.

'Taranir is taking command over your soldiers, I am temporarly taking back your rank.' Mablung said as he was already on his way out. 'You won't leave this building unless I will say so!'

With those last wrathful words he was gone, but Oropher stand still and remained in the room, still having no words to tell him back. There was nothing to tell back, no excuse would ever be good enough. Even the one that he tried to save their soldiers and Arvellon. Or maybe that was what he chose to believe in, that there was still a chance to save his cousin. Otherwise he would have to admit that Arvellon lost his life.

Mablung said that he won't leave the building. Right now there was no point of going anywhere, so Oropher didn't truly mind to be given such order.

He left the room and looked around. The building Mablung dragged him into was an infirmary, so without a second thought Oropher went to the small room where Celeborn was resting.

As soon as he walked in he closed the door after himself and leaned on them, sliding down to the ground in helplessness, covering his mouth with hand. Once more this horrible pain creeped into his heart and forced tears out of his eyes.

He lost Arvellon. There was no body to bury. But execept few clues, there was nothing that allowed to believe that he was still alive. Arvellon was just gone and Oropher knew he won't see his cousin ever again.

Those thoughts were immediately followed by hurt that grew only stronger when he realised that there was still a tiny thread of hope that Arvellon was alive and Oropher left him in the hands of cruel yrch. Truth be told...truth be told, and as much as Oropher wanted to deny it, if their soldiers were captured by the enemy, it would be better if all of them were already dead. Including Arvellon.

As soon as this thought appeared Oropher's throat tightened horribly and he did all he could to stop thinking what fate awaited Arvellon if he was still alive. All the nightmares that came into his mind, could happen to his cousin. Sooner or later he will die and in this situation Oropher couldn't think different but hope that Arvellon was already dead.

It was wrong. Terribly wrong to even allow such a thought to flourish. But could Oropher be blamed? He saw the elves held under captivity of yrch – he saw bodies impaled on sticks and held as a trophies, elves binded to trees and burned alive, terribly mutilated soldiers who begged to be given a peaceful passing to the other side. If that fate awaited their soldiers and Arvellon...Oropher supposed he won't ever sleep peacefully ever again.

With eyes clouded with tears he looked up at Celeborn who was still lying on the bed just as Oropher last saw him. Barely finding strength in himself, Oropher got up and shuffled towards the bed to sit on the edge of it. He looked at Celeborn's face that was still a bit pale, his wounds still a bit swollen and bruises visible, but he seemed at peace, truly resting. Nothing that Oropher felt right now.

In any other stressful and gruesome situation he tried to grip himself tightly and bring together, it was always like this – when Thala and her division didn't come back, when he saw Denethor being cut down by the enemy, even when Faron was gravely wounded on the fields. Despite his anger and fury that rised up while facing his losses, the burning grief spilling down his spirit, despite all of this he always found strenght to turn and lead his soldiers, to decide what to do. But now he couldn't find strenght to do so. He couldn't go on without Arvellon.

He sat there in silence and his tears fell down on the blanket in quiet drops. Celeborn was asleep and he couldn't hear what Oropher would say, but even then he didn't want to say what had happened. That such horrible thing happened. Not speaking that Oropher probably wouldn't be able to control his own voice. His throat was still tightened as if he had a chain around neck, his shoulders shivered since he didn't want to openly sob. Each time he tried to wipe out his tears it quickly proved to be pointless as only his hand and sleeve were wet within a moment.

Ice that gathered on his heart and spirit weightened terribly. Only more time in this grief was needed until it will start to crack open. Even the light from the candles was not enough to take him away from it and the room seemed darker than it really was.

Words couldn't leave his throat for nothing. He wanted at least to say that he needed Celeborn, that he had to wake up, but none of it left his mouth, so finally Oropher let go of saying anything. He covered Celeborn a bit more tightly with blanket minding his injured arm. With all his heart Oropher hoped that it will heal enough for Celeborn to use it with ease.

Not caring that he was still in his dirty armor and soaked clothes Oropher climbed on the bed, curling in the free space next to a wall so he won't disturb Celeborn. He closed his eyes and tried to rest, but truth be told he was afraid to fall asleep. He was afraid that his mind will show him everything he didn't want to see. Tears were still forming in his eyes and wet the blanket below his face. He didn't even try to stop it, it would be a mindless effort. Everything was an effort. Everything seemed hard and without a point. Every fight was lost.

Oropher remained in a state of half-sleep with moments of pain and weakness. Pain appeared like sudden storm and it felt like arrows piercing his heart, taking away his breath. Ice that covered his soul was getting only harder almost like a rock in the middle of winter. And it weighted mercilessly preventing him from even getting up. He had no control over anything and with this powerlessness came a wave of dangerous rage of a trapped animal.

For a long time there was no one who came into the room and Oropher was left on his own. He didn't know if it was Mablung's order or everyone believed that he needed time on his own. And Oropher didn't mind that he was alone. He had time with his own thoughts and he could suffer his loss in silence. No one had to be here to witness it.

Oropher finally managed to fall asleep and as he feared he dreamed of what he wanted to forget. But his dream made him live again the mad run through the forest and then through the plains. Emotions in his sleep were even more real and it was usually fear that overwhelmed everything else.

He didn't wake up all of sudden as it usually happened after a nightmare. Oropher simply opened his eyes as if nothing happened. Even after this sleep he felt unbelievably tired and overwhelmed enough that he didn't know how to begin to form himself once more, so he could come back to his old self.

Only after a moment Oropher realised that he woke up in another room and in a different bed than where he lied to sleep. First quick surprise was lost in irritation and he took up a pillow and came back to Celeborn laying beside him as he previously did. Each time he fell asleep they always took him to another room, but he stubbornly was going back to Celeborn. And soon, they stopped taking him away and only covered him with blanket.

Each time Oropher woke up he was just laying there staring at the wall on the other side of the room. He only moved slightly, so his muscles won't freeze like his heart, but even after the time that passed he still felt terribly tired and the sense of lost time was merciless. Only worse seemed the sense of lost purpose.

Each passing moment was like a point of no return. Right now there was only what happened before Arvellon was gone and after it. Nothing will ever be the same, no matter how much they will try to convience themselves. Oropher didn't even know how they will go on without Arvellon.

And Celeborn was still not waking up. He remained in his sleep and Oropher hoped that at least his cousin was resting and gathering strenght, since Oropher suspected that he was only loosing his own. Sometimes Oropher said to Celeborn few words, but he was mostly staring at burning cadles and he was listening to silence in the room.

Oropher started to count time with the changes of cups of water. One time the it was red or blue, another time it was grey. Someone was bringing it to him and then taking it back when he didn't touch any of it. A cup with water and something to eat was always lied on the small table in the corner of the room. Oropher was thirsty, but the cup was too far away to reach for it, so it just stood there and gathered dust until someone took it away.

In time, Oropher started to fell asleep much more often, but he was no longer hunted with nightmares. He dreamed about nothing. And he didn't know if it was not worse.

One time Oropher opened swollen eyes, and his vision finally focused after a long moment. Celeborn was still beside him and room was as always covered in half-shadow. But he and Celeborn were no longer alone.

He felt a delicate touch on his arm and he immediately rised gleaming green eyes at someone who was sitting on the edge of the bedding. He didn't expect anyone to come here. Everyone was busy with their duty, whatever it was right now. Oropher should be helping them, but right now he was not able to even help himself.

'Oropher?' Taranir asked softly, unmoved by his eyes shining with bolts. 'I brought you some water.'

Taranir, his dear friend. Always on duty, ready to clean up whatever he messed up. Always ready to lead the soldiers wherever he couldn't do it. His brave friend who always stood on his side, no matter what ever would be happening.

Oropher turned his eyes away. He felt in his stomach, dried up throat and lips that it was a long time since he drink or ate anything and he wanted to so badly. But he didn't want to get up. Not because he was not thirsty or even hungry, but because he had no strength to get up. And he didn't want Taranir to know it.

But his friend knew him probably better than he knew himself. Without a word Taranir gave blindly a cup of water to whoever stood behind him and then he get hold on Oropher, rising him up to sit and leaning his back on the wall behind. Only then Taranir got back a cup with water and gave it to Oropher who took it in both hands and sipped slowly. He had to cough at unpleasant feeling when water passed down his dried throat, but soon he could swallow normally.

'Here, I also brought you something to eat.' Taranir said as he opened a small bag and lied in front of Oropher some nuts and a bit of cheese with bread.

As Oropher cropped through it, he realised that not only Taranir was in the room, but someone else was there as well.

He looked up and his jade eyes fixed with those dark blue ones of Mablung. His commander was staring down at him and Oropher kept looking back at him, not truly knowing what to expect and if he should prepare for any argument.

'You are going back to Menegroth.' Mablung annouced, but Oropher took for nothing his stern words. 'That's an order and it's final.'

'I am not going anywhere without Celeborn.' he said and he looked down at the bag to pick up his favourite nuts.

'Don't even try to discuss it.' Mablung said as sternly as before and Oropher grimaced angrily, glancing back at him with shining eyes.

'Try and force me to go. See if you will manage to.' he growled viciously, rage that rose up in him for all this time was at the verge of release. He just needed to find someone to bring it upon.

Oropher saw Taranir glancing up at Mablung, who after a while finally sumbitted and left them, but clearly uncontent. And only when the door closed after their commander, Taranir tured back to Oropher.

'Mablung is in foul mood. Everyone is, truth be told.' Taranir muttered quietly. 'Delgaran immediately informed Mablung of what happened and why we send no missive back to Menegroth. And with all that was happening, Mablung had no time to send a bird to Menegroth as well to inform the King of what was happening in the Tower.' he sighted and then continued. 'As expected, the King didn't take it well. He showed his nager that the army is silent and it was him who finally send a falcon to the Tower.'

Taranir shook his head, but didn't continue this matter. Truth be told, Oropher didn't care what Elwe was thinking right now and what he wanted. But, as always, his reason didn't take his side and stated that Elwe as a King had to know what was happening with his soldiers. First Oropher failed with informing him, then Mablung. No wonder that Elwe was out of patience and even furious.

When Oropher felt a hand on his arm, he looked up at Taranir who was looking at him as well.

'You are sitting here for four days and barely moved. Do you want to scretch out muscles?'

Four days. That's how long Oropher was sitting here alone and staring at the candles, waiting for Celeborn to wake up. Four days of silent mourning.

But he didn't prostest at what Taranir proposed. He nodded delicately, knowing it will do him well to have a short walk. He scrambled ungracefully from the bed and Taranir was helping him get up, but before they went out of the room, Taranir took off armour that Oropher still had on himself. No wonder that his arms pulsed unpleasantly and body was horribly heavied since he wore those pieces of metal on himself for all those days.

All his armor was placed somewhere in the corner and then Taranir gave him a coat to wear on his mashed clothes. He didn't know where Taranir got that coat from, but his friend seemed to prepare everything and when they were ready, they left the room for a short walk.

'Where are the others?' Oropher asked when he walked arm to arm with Taranir. Their pace was slow and Oropher had to admit that it almost pained to move after so long time of laying with all the armor on himself.

'They are resting now. Not long ago they came from the settlements to get wagons.'

'Take me to them.' Oropher said. 'I just want to see them.'

'Alright.' Taranir said softly and soon lead them outside of the infirmary.

Oropher had to sqeeze his eyes at the sun beams of the sun that almost blinded him. It was a beautiful early afternoon – the sky was clear without much clouds and there was a soft wind that pleasantly cooled the body, from time to time there were sparrows or robins passing through one tree to another.

Despite that there was a great commotion happening on the Tower with neighting horses and sounds of moved equipment, there was strangely quiet all around. No one talked to each other, if only then to pass on some orders. And if any conversation was around then it was very quiet.

Mablung brought with himself at least two more divisions. It was clear they didn't get enough wagons from the settlements and they were building up new ones. There was no one around without work, everyone did their part.

Taranir lead him to the area of provisional tents – those were truly more fabrics rised up on sticks that protected from the sun. It was not cold at all so there was no need for tents and in case of the rain everyone will have a shelter inside one of the buildings.

Oropher stopped at the wide entrance and looked at his sleeping soldiers. All of them were brave and loyal to a fault. And Oropher used this loyalty and lead them astray – beyond the protection of the Girdle and beyond their own endurance. Mablung was right, he allowed his division to be divided and they could have payed with their lives for that. Back then Taranir made a right decision to send the rest of their team back to the Tower.

'All of you should go back to the city.' Oropher said. 'Since Mablung wanted me to go then there are some who are riding back to Menegroth.'

'He wanted only you to go back, with us escorting you.' Taranir said. 'And you know well that we won't leave you here. We are a team and we ride together.'

'It should be like this, but I mindlessly pulled you after myself with no thought.' Oropher said as he crossed his arms on chest, suddenly he realised that his voice sounded extremly bitter. 'I gave you no plan and no warning. We were like ducks to be shot at with ease.'

'We knew what we were doing. And we don't blame you for anything.' Taranir said with confidence. 'You had a strong purpose.'

'Nothing justifies me for putting all of you in danger. I failed as your leader.' Oropher said back as if he didn't hear what his friend just said. He glanced at his soldiers, one after another. 'How is Faron? Did it take a huge toll on him?'

'It did.' Taranir admitted as he sighted a bit. 'He is helping more with the horses. We managed to get draft ones to pull the wagons.'

Oropher nodded to those words. Right now they need not only more wagons, but also more horses. Their situation changed drastically.

Then his eyes fall on a three forms that lied asleep in the middle of the tent. He watched them for a moment before he finally shook his head.

'I don't want Halloth, Amrun and Tinnu to leave the Tower.' Oropher said fully convienced that this decision is right, but Taranir didn't agree with this.

'They are a great help out there.' he said immediately. 'Their support-'

'I don't care. I don't...care.' Oropher interrupted and then a terrible headache gripped him all of sudden. 'They will stay inside the safety of the Tower. I lost Bressil, Aglaron, their soldiers, I lost...Arvellon.' he said and turned to look at what was happening in the Tower. 'I don't want them anywhere in the woods.'

His decision was right – he won't endanger his young soldiers more than it was neccesary. In sudden wave of those thoughts, Oropher regretted he allowed them to leave Menegroth.

'How are the...preparations for our ride back?' Oropher asked trying to get his mind on the other track that where it was for all those days.

'We have good timing, soon we can expect an order to move out.'

'Do we have all the first-hand equipment?' he asked again, but this time Taranir eyes him suspiciously.

'You are not thinking about getting back to work, do you?' he answered with a question and Oropher was silent for a moment. He was still a commander on duty, no matter what happened.

'I have to. It's high time for me to do so.' he said, but he didn't manage to add something more when Taranir rised up in immediate protest.

'No, it's not high time for you to do anything.' he said. 'You are not thinking clearly and you are not alright.'

'My work will help me get on the right track and you took care of my duties for too long. And I am alright, I wasted enough time laying in this dark room.'

'You were laying there because you didn't have strenght to get up. And now you are telling me that you are alright?' Taranir said, but his voice was not angered. It seemed more as if he tried to conviece Oropher to something. 'And you forbid our young soldiers to leave the Tower bacause you don't want to endanger them. But your decision will only do more bad than good. You will hold them back each time you can? How they will become soldiers they want to be if you won't ever let them go?'

Oropher was silent, deep in his heart he knew Taranir was right. He had no right to hold his young soldiers back, they were a part of his team...but they were far less experienced.

'I let go of Arvellon and he...I don't want to loose them, I can't...they are too young.' Oropher finally said words in true form and honesty that appeared in his was truth, each of them had all the life before themselves, just as every soldier in Bressil's team.

Taranir embraced him with arm and lead a bit away from the tent. Oropher didn't prostest, he was too busy fighting terrible tightness that attacked his throat again as he once more recalled the vision of the clearing with all the bodies on it.

'You can't think about them that way, you know it.' Taranir said softly as he stood in front of Oropher. 'It's grief speaking through you. Right now it will affect your every decision.' he continued before Oropher denied what he just said. 'It is, Oropher, it is grief. Not yet overwhelming one, but you slowly start to loose your strenght.'

Oropher remained quiet, finding no words to say back. He couldn't deny it, because he felt the biting cold that froze his soul and heart even deeper. But he didn't want to admit it either.

'We were checking on you during those four days. We were not sure, but Faron sees more than us, he recognised immediately that your light is slowly fading.' Taranir continued softly. 'Leading healer only confirmed it and that's why Mablung wanted to send you back.'

'I won't fall in grief. I still have Celeborn to take care of, I need to take him back to Menegroth.' Oropher said with full confidence. What he was feeling for those day may have been a beginning of grief, but Oropher won't allow it to bite the last of him.

'It will be better for you to have more sun.' Taranir said finally. 'Neither Mablung or Egnaspen will allow you to come back to your duties, but I think you can help Faron with the horses.'

'Maybe I should...I don't know.' Oropher sighted deeply. 'I don't want to feel this sadness all around. I don't want to see them...taking care of the bodies, to continue my duty knowing that...I won't see Arvellon around.'

'You are not ready and it's alright.' Taranir said and he caressed Oropher's arms in soothing gesture. 'Come, I will take you back.'

As they started to slowly walk, Oropher tried to fight terrible sadness that spilled all over him. It was enough of tears on his part. It was finally time to force himself to heal. He tried to think of anything different and then he realised that not every one of his soldiers was resting in provisional tent.

'Where is Alagos?' he asked when he was sure he will be able to control his own voice.

'He joined Egnaspen's soldiers.' Taranir said. 'At Mablung's order, Egnaspen, Aenor and Celeblas took their divisions and they are riding after any trial they will find. Many trackers went with them, Alagos among them.'

It will change nothing now. The only consolation was that the enemy left territory of Doriath and none of the foul beasts lurked in the woods anymore. There will be no more casualties.

'How is Ciryion's division?' he finally asked after a moment when they walked in silence, but when Taranir thought about the answer, it was easy to guess that it was worse than before.

'Silef didn't survive, her organs didn't manage to hold together after such mutilation.' Taranir finally said. 'Peace to her spirit. May it be lead with light.'

She had a family on her own – her husband and two elfling were awaiting her return. As many others, they will wait in vain to see their loved one return.

'The others are stabile. Even Ciryion's wound stopped bleeding, but he is weak, he lost a lot of blood.'

Oropher nodded, only at this moment it came to him that what Taranir said earlier – that
Egnaspen was here with Aenor and Celeblas. Of course Aenor would come here to check on his friend and he will watch over Ciryion when he will be taken to Menegroth. And no wonder that Egnaspen took Celeblas – his numorous division specialized in horseback archery and they were skilled in placing traps. And they were able to track down everything that was alive and some said that even this was not an obstacle for them.

'Mablung sent a missive to the King.' Oropher stated when they walked back into the infirmary. 'Do you know what he wrote there?'

'I only know that it was appropriately sealed. To be given straightly from the hands of the falconer to the King with no one in-between.'

Oropher nodded closing his mind immediately as tighly as he could to not hear the thoughts that started to rise up. Thoughts about his family as well and if...if they already knew.

And among all of those thoughts, faster Oropher suspected that they arrived to their destination. They stopped near the door of Celeborn's room and Oropher looked up at his friend.

'Keep an eye on our soldiers. You will take care of them well.'

'They are well. And they will be whole and safe.' Taranir said. 'I will tell you again, no one blames you for what happened. In your place...everyone would probably have done just the same.'

Oropher shook his head and sighted deeply. In his impulsive actions, Oropher usually endangered only himself, in the past he sometimes dragged Amdir into it. But now, he endangered all of his soldiers and it was not something to be forgiven. At least he won't ever forgive himself.

'Get some sleep if you want, maybe you can also rest at the other side of the informary. It's more...peaceful there.' Taranir said as he opened the door. And Oropher knew what his friend meant by his words – that Oropher won't have to see what was happening with the bodies. 'I will come by later. But remember' he said stopping Oropher from walking. 'Remember you can call for me anytime you want. Keep in mind our promise.'

'I do. Thank you.' Oropher managed to delicately smile to Taranir before he walked into the room and the door softly closed shut behind him.

He knew what they were all afraid of and maybe they were right a bit. Oropher was telling himself that he won't let the frost completly devourer him, but he couldn't decide upon that.

Once he will be touched by grief and he won't have a strong purpose then he will succumb to it.

They were afraid that his grief will be strong enough to take his will to live. They had right to be afraid, but Oropher had a purpose – he had Celeborn to take take of. He needed to see his cousin get better and wake up. He needed to see him healed in Menegroth and standing on his own legs. He didn't know what will be beyond that point, but right now Oropher held on tight to Celeborn and hopefully his purpose will be strong enough so he won't be lost.

Besides, Oropher still had apetite and he didn't refuse either food or water. Neither he longed for loneliness and it wouldn't bother him if someone was beside him. At the beginning it would have – when he couldn't hold back tears, when he had no control over anything. Back then he didn't want anyone to see him in such state. But now he wouldn't mind to have someone beside him.

Oropher took off his coat and threw it on a tiny chair in the corner. He took a small bedsid
cabinet and pulled his closer to the end of the bed where he was resting for the last days. They used to leave all the food and cups of water on this cabinet – if it will be closer, then Oropher will reach to it with ease.

He climbed on the bed, knowing well that Celeborn was still laying asleep. He clearly sensed fresh medication and smudges that were surely placed on Celeborn's wounds when he was gone.

It seemed they even changed his own small pillow. Oropher layed head on it and closed his eyes, strangely feeling a bit lighter after talk with Taranir, but at the same time it was still overwhelmed by the sight of his tired soldiers. As much as he tried, still all the better things were quickly blinded by those worst ones.

His breath slowed down but he didn't manage to fall asleep. Instead he remained in a state of half-conciousness and his minds showed his a vision of the night sky full of stars. He wandered through it, unperturbed by anything, but still even a slightest sound would have brought him back to reality.

How will you tell this to your family?

Oropher opened his eyes abruptly when those words blasted out like a powerful thunder, scorching the last of his peace and pulsing painfully in his skull. Terrible headache gripped him and didn't want to let go. With a grimace and pumping heart he closed his eyes once more and desperatly rised a high wall to separate a tiny space in his mind where he can have peace.

It was a while before the headache let go of him. And this time Oropher felt he was slipping away from to the calm night with stars and he didn't fight it. But when he opened his eyes he knew he didn't sleep for long. And he immediately sensed there were more elves around in the room than usually.

'...of stocks should be enough. As for now we don't have many wounded who require this particular medication.'

It was the same healer from before who spoke and he clearly heard assistants around buzzling and moving around, scent of hearbs was vivid and clear as well, so they were doing something with Celeborn's wounds.

He looked up at the gathered elves and it was just as he thought and two or three assistants were doing their work, while head healer was overseeing this and spoke to no one other but Mablung who was also present in the room. And when his commander saw him awake and listening, he looked down at him.

'Celeborn woke up.' he said and Oropher almost jumped up to sit, but he was still not able to do so and only managed to rise himself on elbows.

'What?!' he almost called out loudly. 'Then why-?'

'It was only for a brief moment.' the healer said. 'And he was still in much pain. We helped him go back to sleep. But the fact that he woke up is a huge step for the better.'

'Let's talk outside.' Mablung said quietly and the elleth nodded, following the General out of the room. Oropher had no doubs that they will speak about him as well.

Oropher patiently waited for the assistants to be done. He didn't got in the way as much as he could and in turn assistants didn't seem bothered by his presence.

He noticed a cup of water and plate with food on a bedsid. He rose up to sit and gathered a small tray. This time, water was spieced with some herbs, but Oropher couldn't recognise exactly which ones. And beside this he got some toasts with strawberry mousse.

Arvellon loved strawberries, it was his favourite fruit. With impatience, he always awaited time of the season when strawberries will flourish and he knew the exact time when strawberries were perfectly sweet. Oropher remembered well all the places that Arvellon showed him where bushes of strawberries rose next to each other with inceredible density. Each season,
they used to go with Celeborn and Galathil to the forest of Region and they had some fresh
strawberries with cream and sugar. It didn't seem that long ago, but from the point where he was now all of this seemed far away memories.

When assistants were done with their work, they gathered what they needed and left the room.

And Oropher placed back a tray on its place, realising that a taste of strawberries will never be the same for him again.

He looked at Celeborn's face. If it truly pained him so much, then it was for the better that he will remain in deep sleep. Oropher hoped that in his rest, Celeborn was at peace and he didn't fell pain nor that he was haunted with nightmares.

When he layed down once more it was quick when he lost himself to dreams. Maybe those were the herbs in the water that made him feel more at ease and allowed him to fall asleep much sooner. But his dreams were not peaceful and the wall he built before crumbled to dust.

Once more he saw the clearing with bodies. Bloody mud stinked impossibly warmed up by the sun, everything sinked in it as if it was all a bog and half-buried bodies were were getting only deeper in it. Corpses of horses were often so mutilated it was hard to see where was the head, ribs on the outside, spines bitten throgugh and freshly eaten insides were a grim sight enough.

Then all of sudden he was in Menegroth among familiar corridors. He looked around at the torches, at decorations and paintings that were on the walls. He noticed he was standing in the middle of the corridor and when he looked straight ahead there was Arvellon on the second end. His cousin turned to him and smiled in a greeting.

Arvellon, you are back! He barely managed to say, blessed relief spilling away from him the last of sorrow and fear. Of course it was alright, everything was alright because Arvellon was here.

He didn't even manage to make a single step towards his cousin, when cruel hands cought him, aroung chest, grabbing his arms, holding his hair tightly and he was brutally pulled back, away from Arvellon to the dark corridor behind him.

Arvellon will never be back, you fool!

As soon as those wrathful words were said, Oropher opened his eyes, very tired despite that he just woke up. While facing such nightmares, Oropher hoped that he had sleep with no dreams. But having no dreams was a sign of sickness and, in his situation, grief that for all those days and night was ever present beside him. He rised his head, quickly realising that his pillow was
wet, cheeks as well. He must have been crying in his sleep.

Then, he felt that there was someone beside him, very close. Oropher rised up more to see who it was. In sudden wave of half-anger and panic he thought it will be Rivalt he will see. Rivalt arrived with Mablung as a member of his division and he must be somewhere around in the Tower, and now he was here beside him-

But it was Alagos, curled up behind him in a tiny space that was left. His one arm was around Oropher with head laying on his waist. He seemed to be sleeping as he was not perturbed at all that Oropher moved and he remained as he was. And Oropher stared at his friend for a moment.

Alagos was back and he was alright. With those thoughts in mind Oropher lied back on his pillow and reached out to hold Alagos's hand that embraced him.