"Is all well?" Gil-Galad asked in concern, the elfling in his arms was silent and scanning his surroundings warily. He could sense his unease, but could not tell its cause.

"Aye," came Erestor's hesitant reply, "the fresh air feels good, but the air seems thick."

Gil-Galad smiled, "you will get used to it, it is the salt in the air that makes it seem that way."

"How strange" the elfling answered in wonder.

"We are here," Gil-Galad stated softly, "is this acceptable?" He added somewhat teasingly.

Erestor looked about him, they were some way now from the main body of the castle, near a niche in the cliffs that contained a weathered stone bench. There was a slight platform overlooking the ocean, but even seated upon the bench there would be a clear view of the coastline in both directions. Along the beach edge shone many lanterns, so although it was dark the waves were illuminated as they met the shore.

Gil-Galad was clearly waiting for an answer, before setting him down upon the bench, so Erestor simply replied "Thank you."

The Elf Lord smiled warmly as he settled Erestor on the bench and took the seat beside him.

Silence reigned for a time and Gil-Galad watched Erestor carefully. He appeared to be soaking up his surroundings, but there was something else in his demeanour, ((he looks as if he is expecting something to happen.))

"What now?" he finally asked.

Erestor shot him an odd look, "I don't know" he replied forlornly. Somewhere in the back of his head he heard the seneschal's words ((head for the sea, you will be safe by the sea…))

Erestor swallowed a sob; he did not wish to break down in front of the Noldorin 'King' that would seem like a defeat.

A hitherto unheard voice in his head suggested that now he was at the sea he was indeed safe and he looked at the Elf Lord for a moment, before looking away as their gazes met.

"What is wrong Erestor?" Gil-Galad asked gently.

"Everything is wrong" he replied sadly, his eyes downcast.

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

"Nay" the elfling replied, rather too quickly.

Gil-Galad sighed, "Erestor, I realise it is painful but I need you to talk to me, it is important. Besides I have some questions, and I do need you to answer them."

Erestor's eyes remained downcast.

"Erestor, please answer me," Gil-Galad said, pushing the matter.

Erestor did not move his head but mumbled, "I hear you, Lord Gil-Galad."

Gil-Galad felt uncomfortable with the fact that he had to press the elfling for answers, but he needed to know some things about this young one before he could accept him into his home, though he felt it was already to late to save his heart. He had to admit he already cared about Erestor and his welfare, it would pain him to see him leave.

Gil-Galad spoke softly, "Erestor you said that you were the last of your kin, is that truly the case?"

A surge of strength seemed to wash over him and Erestor sat up straight and swept back his hair so he could look the Elf Lord directly in the eye, "Aye, that is what I said and 'tis the truth."

Gil-Galad could not explain it, but his answer seemed like an accusation and he felt a pang of guilt in his heart and felt unnerved by the elfling's piercing gaze.

"Do you not have even distant kin?"

"Nay, they are all dead." A tear fell from Erestor's eye and Gil-Galad watched it roll down his check, glistening in the lantern light.

Gil-Galad felt for the elfling, and chose this moment to wrap an arm about his shoulder. Erestor looked up at him quizzically and did not lean in to his embrace.

((Curious, he does not trust me, but then, can I blame him, after all he has endured? it will come in time, The Valar willing)).

"Your kin were wanderers?"

"Aye."

"Where do you hail from?"

"We journeyed from Ossiriand but a few years back." Erestor was keen to appear open and honest to the Noldorin Lord, and while he was careful in his answers, he saw no reason to lie unless it was necessary to shield his identity.

"What is your father's name?"

Erestor knew he could not answer this question, but it was not so much this as an overwhelming sense of grief that caused him to answer bitterly. "My Father is dead, what does it matter?"

"Young one it matters a great deal, for our forebears shape who we are. My own father was slain before I reached my majority," at Erestor's inquisitive look, he added "does that surprise you?"

For a moment the elfling looked shamefaced, "How did you stand it? I do not believe I can survive feeling this way."

"How did I stand it? Well, by giving myself the time to grieve and by keeping him alive in my heart. I had the support of Lord Círdan of course, which was invaluable. You shall have my support in turn. If it is within my power, you will get through this Erestor." Gil-Galad's last words were little more than a whisper.

Erestor was unaware of when it happened, but he now found himself leaning into and even returning the Elf Lord's embrace, and moreover he felt little guilt at the fact. What was more important to him at this moment was that this elf understood some of what he was going through and that for better or for worse he believed the Elf Lord's whispered words.

"Can I stay here?" Erestor's words were hesitant, unsure of the likely response.

"Of course you may stay, and perhaps in time you will come to call Balar home." ((Besides you have nowhere else to go, and I would not see you abandoned again))

"Thank you, My Lord"

"I think, young one, it is time for us to return to the healing house, before Finuial sends out the guards!"

Gil-Galad swept Erestor into his arms once more and rose.

"My Lord? Thank you for agreeing to bring me outside, it is good to feel the breeze on my face, and I appreciate your comforting words."

Gil-Galad smiled ((this one was polite indeed!)) he had no idea that the wandering elves schooled their young in courtly manners!

"You are most welcome Erestor"


After leaving Erestor in the healing house, Gil-Galad made his way to the library, in the hopes that his Councillor and tutor to Glorfindel would still be there at such a late hour.

"Corupeth, I am glad to find you still here"

"My Lord?" Corupeth looked up from his book as Gil-Galad entered the library.

"Does your brother still reside in Ossiriand?"

"Aye, My Lord, he does"

"Would you contact him for me?"