"W- who are you?" was all he managed to say. Glorí smiled down warmly at him as she replied.

"My name is Glorí, and yours I presume is Glorfindel?" He nodded and groaned as he did so. "Come, I will take you back to your friends. Do you think you can walk?"

"I believe I can." He stated before allowing Glorí to help him to his feet. She released his arm to allow him to stand on his own, but grabbed it again when he began to sway. They moved forward a few feet before stopping again. Leaving Glorfindel leaning against a tree, she returned to the orc camp and gathered her belongings.

Theo had returned and came to her, placing a blood soaked nose into her hand. She examined him for any injuries but found no more than a scratch across his left foreleg. Satisfied she returned to Glorfindel, who was still next to the tree but was shivering with cold.

"Here." She said, placing a blanket over his quivering shoulders. Then she placed her right arm around his waist. "Lean on me." He did, placing on arm over her shoulders.

Slowly they made their way back towards the original battlegrounds. When they came within twenty feet of the clearing, a clear elven voice ordered them to a halt. "Who goes there? Speak or be fired upon!"

"Erestor, 'tis Glorfindel!"

The elf called them forward and so they entered the clearing. As they came forth another elf sprinted towards them. He drew Glorfindel into a hurried embrace before helping him to the ground, checking his wounds.

Suddenly he looked upward. "Did you tend to this?"

Turning slightly pink she replied. "Yes."

"You did well, giving the circumstances."

At that she sighed slightly relieved but continued to be on guard. She was not sure if she could trust these elves, and did not want to get caught in a bad situation. The elf's voice brought her from her musing.

"Come, I think it best if you and I talked for a bit."

Slightly cautious Glorí followed the elf away from the now sleeping Glorfindel. Crossing the clearing they came to a tent that had hastily been put up, but they did not enter it just yet.

Instead he led her around it to the horses, well, the few that were left. He pulled a water-skin from the one of the horses back, as well as a couple of clean towels.

He set to work cleaning the blood from his hands and face, a mixture of elven and orc blood. Without looking up he addressed her.

"My name is Elrond, I come from over the mountains. What, may I ask is your name?"

"Glorí." She replied curtly, not wanting to reveal too much about herself. Elrond seemed to notice her caution and looking up smiled at her.

"You needn't worry. We will not hurt you and seem to be more in your debt than anything." At this Glorí could not stop a look of confusion from creeping over her face. Before she could question his meaning he spoke again.

"Your arrows saved many of us, including a friend of grave importance. Not to mention Glorfindel."

Silence fell upon them until he finished the task of cleaning himself. Then he stood again, replaced the supplies and this time they entered the tent.

Glorí paused in the door as she let her eyes readjust to light. When they did she looked about her. On the right hand side of the tent a wounded elf lay on a cot, seemingly unconscience. In the middle of the tent was a small fire that burned dimly, casting strange shadows on the walls. In the fire was a small pot of water that was boiling merrily. On the left side of the tent was a chest, open to reveal an assortment of weapons and other supplies.

Glorí readjusted her gaze upon the elf and Elrond, who knelt by his side. He was whispering softly to him so that not even her elven ears could pick up what he said. But even as he spoke the eyes flickered open and became focused. Elrond motioned for her to approach. As she did she saw more of the elf lying on the cot. A blanket was pulled up to his about just a few inches below his arms. Glorí noticed a rather bloody bandaged wrapped around his side from over his shoulder.

She knelt next to Elrond near the low bed. The elf on the bed looked at her for a moment before speaking.

"I heard of what you have done for us, and I thank you. My name is Gil-Galad."

Glorí noticed how he was speaking with effort and realized that the wound must have been extremely painful. "Hello. My name is Glorí. How do you fare?" She asked only meaning to be respectful.

"I have been better," he replied with a forced smile before continuing. "Tell me, are there others here? Where are your parents or friends? Surely you are not alone."

She looked at the ground for a moment. She was alone; she had no one but the animals to keep her sane. Elrond seemed to sense again that the wrong question had been asked and moved away to occupy himself with the water.

"I am indeed alone here." She stated flatly. "Though I am not without protection." She added quickly as an afterthought. Gil-Galad simply chuckled at her insecurity, which led to a coughing fit that he could not control. In an instant Elrond was back at his side, water in hand.

Once Gil-Galad seemed to regain control he spoke again. "I know you are not without protection, you have shown that many times today. I simply wished to further contemplate our situation."

"We should go. You need your rest." Came Elrond's melodic voice from beside her.

Glorí blinked as they exited the tent. The sun was beginning to climb into the sky and was already bright for the day. Glorí looked around her taking in the damage that she had not seen in the dark.

The orc bodies had been cleared away. Injured elves laid scattered on the ground while others tended to them. The rest had started cooking fires, arranged the remaining horses, and were keeping watch. Elrond led her to one of the cooking elves and took some food for them. They sat upon some rocks to eat and talk.

"What happened?" Glorí asked abruptly.

"We were waylaid by orcs on our way over the mountains. We did not know that this country had also become infected with the creatures."

Glorí was irritated by the remark of her land being "infected" but did not voice it. "What casualties have you faced?"

"Not too bad considering. We did not lose anyone although more than half of us was injured. Many wounds were thankfully superficial and not threatening, Gil-galad's being the worse."

"What happened to him?"

"He was caught with an enemy arrow. It was poisoned and right now he fights with the fever it has caused. I can do no more for him here, and he is in great pain. I still cannot bring myself to think that he may not pull through. I pray to the Valar that he does."