Glorfindel strolled up from the docks to the castle. He felt the need for a little time to himself, to sort out his feelings on the day's events.

It was a crisp winters day, the castle's imposing stone walls loomed high above him, perched in a somewhat precarious manner on the highest cliffs. The day was cold, and the icy breeze from the ocean made Glorfindel's skin tingle pleasantly, and the wind tossed his golden locks about as he walked.

Glorfindel's thoughts though were fixed on a pale face, framed by the darkest hair and he wondered what that complexion would look like after a time outside, and how the cheeks would look with a soft rosy glow.

Glorfindel increased his pace, suddenly feeling the need to be near to the elfling. Though he had only known of him for a short space of time, he already felt possessive of his newly found friend.

((By the grace of the Valar let him be healed)) Glorfindel closed his eyes for a moment as this plea came to his mind, and at that moment the sun's rays found their way over the castle walls, bathing the party in it's pale warmth. The horses bowed their heads contentedly and Glorfindel smiled, taking the sun's kind gesture as a blessing as they entered through the castle gates.

After leaving the horses at the stables, Glorfindel rushed to his rooms, where he collected a sleeping robe and three small tomes that had been given to him by his mother on the day he had left to start his fostering in Balar. These tomes of the history of Arda meant a lot to him, and it occurred to him that his mysterious elf might also draw some comfort from them when he woke.

Glorfindel was no stranger to the castle's healing house, indeed there was barely a week that went by when he wasn't being treated for some minor injury of other.

He entered the healing house quietly; Gil-Galad was sat in a corner with Finuial, deep in conversation. The bed by the window, where the most seriously injured elves were placed, was empty but Glorfindel was in no doubt that this was where the elfling would be laid, so he placed the tomes upon the side table, and cast his eyes about the room to locate the injured elfling.


A soaring painful heat coursed through his body. Aiya! He felt like he was being burnt alive. His eyes became aware, but he could not see anything that he recognised, the room was whitewashed, there was steam, the pain was considerable. He blacked out once more.

"Come on, young one, please come back to us," Rosuil urged as he cleaned off the last of the dirt from the elfling's body. The water was tepid but the healer knew it would seem scorching to one so cold, though he was heartened to see the awareness return to the dark eyes, even if it was only for a moment.

The elfling whimpered again and the awareness returned to the obsidian depths of his eyes. Rosuil smiled at the awakening elfling but was startled by the look of pure terror he received in return.

"Peace, young one, you are safe." The elfling appeared petrified and seeing his words had not helped to calm him, the healer began to sing a lullaby that he had sung to his own son when he was at a similar age and was frightened by a bad storm and needed comforting.

A myriad of emotions were played out in the dark eyes, but eventually the soothing tune seemed to calm the elf, and his eyes slipped closed. Rosuil checked that the elfling had only fallen into a healing sleep, and once he was confident that he was not slipping towards the Halls of Mandos he lifted the now warmed elf out of the bath.

This was the sight that greeted Glorfindel as he entered the bathing room. The healer was holding the limp elfling, his head lolled back against the older elf's forearm and Glorfindel saw instantly that his eyes were closed.

"Nay! Say it isn't so!" Glorfindel hissed, entering the room swiftly and raising his hand to caress the elfling's face, while glaring at the healer somewhat accusingly.

"Calm yourself, Glorfindel, he is only sleeping, and keep your voice down, it would not do to wake him" Rosuil replied softly.

Glorfindel felt his heart return to its proper location in his body, Aiya that was a shock!

"Is that a sleeping robe?" Rosuil asked, gesturing towards the blue fabric that Glorfindel held tightly to his chest.

Glorfindel nodded, "it will be too big for him," he shrugged, "but not as big as any robes you might have here, I would guess."

"Good, let us get him dried and dressed, he needs to rest"


Círdan entered the study quietly and paused to survey the scene. Gil-Galad was sitting at his desk, surrounded by scrolls, tomes and an assortment of loose sheets of parchment, several pieces of parchment littered the floor, it was an untidy scene. Gil-Galad himself was chewing the end of a quill pen and gazing distractedly out of the doors to the balcony, which afforded a fine view of the coastline.

Círdan chuckled to himself as he advanced on the Elf Lord. "Your advisor told me I would find you locked away, working hard on a reply to Oropher's latest missive," Círdan said, "yet I see no evidence of it!" he added flippantly with a chuckle.

Gil-Galad lazily turned to look at the sea Captain now perched on the corner of the desk and replied, "I find I am in no mood for Oropher's pompous words and petty complaints"

Círdan frowned, "Are you well?"

"In truth, I am not certain, my mind is troubled. Lady Galadriel's letter still haunts me, and now this elfling. Aiya! What is Arda coming to, that elves are slaying elves and elflings are abandoned to death in the wilds!"

"How does he fare?"

"He regained consciousness for a time before falling into a healing sleep, though he has not yet spoken, so we still do not know who he is. Glorfindel is with him and there is nothing we can do now but wait, the healers will care for him."

Círdan looked at Gil-Galad with understanding, "then we must wait, he will be cared for and you must try not to worry."