Aragorn felt his burdens suddenly lighten as he recognized the sounds of those silver bells. As weary as he had been, his heels were light as he sprang through the heather toward the gentle tinkling. Never had he been so glad to hear the approach of the rider that had found them.
The hood of the cloak had been caught back by a breeze, and with golden hair streaming, the Elf seemed a veritable burst of sunshine astride a gleaming white stallion.
At last Glorfindel's voice carried on the wind, fair as the dawn: "Ai, na vedui, Dúnadan! Mae govannen!"