"You can only come to the morning through the shadows." ― J.R.R. Tolkien

Galion had to move the meeting of the Captains to the next morning. With Thranduil siphoning off into grief and the younger elf running a mild fever it was really better to just wait. He made his way slowly down the steps toward the cellars to inspect their provisions. He had been putting off his butler duties of late to assist the regent so to speak. But that didn't excuse his negligence, and Galion prided himself in being very capable in dealing with all that was thrown his way.

Captain Orek was back, if there was one good thing that had occurred it was that. Orek was one of Thranduil's primary advisors for scout deployment other than himself. He made another mark on his scroll as he inspected their supply of Dorwinion wine, still quite enough; he made several more marks as he inspected their grain cache. They needed to purchase more Lembas from Lothlórien as they did not have all the ingredients necessary to make their own.

He shook his head pursing his lips he went through several other baskets of fruit, berries and the like, counting the amount of more caskets they would need. His eyes shifted resting on a familiar old chair, older than the rest littered around the table, of old make. It is or was his muindor's chair. He lingered fingering it wistfully imaging a table pulled up to it, his brother leaning back feet propped up a scroll and quill in his hands as he counted off their expenses and exports for the month. This all would be far easier if Rumilar was still around. His elder brother had been quite adapt at his duties, but he had sailed…sailed long ago and Galion couldn't blame him. Rumilar had been a close companion to King Thranduil's father, Oropher and though far younger than the previous King his high intelligence and quick mind allowed him to advance through the ranks quite rapidly, that and his insatiable sense of humor. It was he who had fought against Oropher's desire to charge when they had faced Sauron. But in the end there was little choice, Gil Galad was too frightened to make the first stand and Lord Elrond, Lord Elrond nearly didn't come out onto the battlefield at all, so much grief did his ring give him, he had nearly turned. It was Rumilar who brought the news of the Kings death, placed the crown on King Thranduil's brow…He had been something to behold then…in a time of chaos and mayhem a focal point of reason and sharp intelligence and strength. But that was then, when duty called Rumilar answered, but after that…he sailed, sailed because of the battles horrors. Galion himself had been part of the reserves along with Thranduil. The field of dead elves lingered in his nightmares, yet he could only begin imagine what the massacre itself felt like.

He made a quick inventory of the shelves in an attempt to distract his mind from his thoughts and then decided it was time to head back to his rooms and get some rest. Tomorrow would be a long day.

Glorfindel rose with the sun, most of the camp was still asleep and here and there a sentry was posted and though men would deem two elven watchmen far too little it was far more than enough for a vigil over the camp. It was a quite peaceful morning full of birds singing in the air. The pungent sweet aroma of old wood, Fangorn hit his nose; it was an ancient smell and though much like the smell of all trees it had a dampened grief about it, it was an incalculable feeling, strange yet it was almost as if the trees understood your very core. He traversed a trail that led a distance away from the camp though not too far splaying a palm on one of the trees, the trunk resonated with his heartbeat. Beauty, it was almost uncanny to the elder elf that such a thing still existed on middle earth. Here where the darkness roamed so freely so unchecked. But beauty there was, in the air and in the eye view that one received when climbing the ancient trees and the sense of belonging when one climbed as if every branch was made for elven hands and elven hands alone.

He only wished the younger elf was with him. They spent less time together; even now Glorfindel could sense the effects the raids upon the orcs had on Arrai. He was young; too young to have witnessed the horrors that he did. And though he could see the younger elf struggling to connect with him, in some ways he in his heart of hearts new, and perhaps even his ion nin new, that this was something he had to overcome himself. Glorfindel could help Arrai fight the demons of his mind, the orcs that festered in his soul, created in the fantasy of horrors that kept his ward awake nights in a row at times. But even he knew that in the end only Arrai could save himself. He sighed, his eyes observing the forest floor as he pushed the wave of agony back. He was on duty, now was not the time. Arrai would have liked it here…a thin smile graced his lips no doubt the younger elf would be ecstatic for another trip, Glorfindel had seldom let him ride as it was…twelve years…it was too short a time to forget…and even if in the younger elf's mind the memory ever did recede…in his own mind it never would… He had lost many things in his long life, what little family he had, his mellon nin… but he doubted he had ever felt the sheer horror he felt when he found the younger elf forced to nearly turn into one of those foul creatures of darkness. The memories were still with him, the changes in the younger elf… the ever flickering bright light of curiosity and mischief had dimmed…dimmed… by the sheer weight of the darkness that loomed through all of middle earth…

A fist clenched…as he released the anger slowly…the others would be rising soon though it was still early morning and he was loath to have them see him in such a state. He made his way back to the still dormant camp starting a fire of sorts. Haldir's eyes twitched as he had slept closest to the campfire hazel eyes meeting his own then blinking several times before the elf pushed himself up fluidly with stretching this way and that briefly then rubbing his sword arm.

"Sore?" Glorfindel smiled thinly having been quite appalled at the size of the strokes Haldir had been using the day before.

"It would appear so." Haldir's eyes narrowed as he observed the elder elf. To those who knew him less, he may have appeared to be in fine but Haldir new better. Last night's jests were all aimed to lighten the aura around the older elf but Glorfindel scarcely gave heed to having heard half of what he said at all. What was more troubling was the fact that had this been a decade ago Glorfindel would have been the first to exploit any and every angle in question to laugh at his expense poking and prodding till Haldir wished he was underground.

Glorfindel passed around several portions of fruit biting into his own after a brief pause. "Had you heeded my warning this would not have occurred."

"Haldir doesn't take a hint when danger is near." Orophin pushed himself up reaching for his bow. His eyes met Haldir's and then flickered to the Elder then back to his muindor, shaking his head slightly as he observed Lord Glorfindel.

The chewing stopped. Blue grey held hazel as Lord Glorfindel's eyes flickered between the two. "What?"

"Nothing." Orophin tried to look anywhere but the Elder elf failing miserably. It was Haldir who spoke breaking the now stifling silence.

"It is you mellon nin." The Captain lowered his swathed ration of fruit gently onto his lap eyes meeting Glorfindel's. Light filtered through the cracks of the trees and for a moment the song of a lark could be heard chirping merrily in the near silence of the still waking camp.

Glorfindel shifted under the gaze unused to such scrutiny from anyone other than Elrond. His hand unconsciously clenched at his sword though no danger was present.

"I am fine…" The older elf gazed back evenly as if willing the Captain to take back his words. But Haldir merely shook his head. "You need to sail…"

Frustration then anger glazed Glorfindel's. "I need do no such thing."

"We can all see the struggle you bear." Orophin spoke finally having gathered enough courage to do so in this confrontation, for Glorfindel's wrath could be legendary and no sane man would willingly oppose him. But this…this was for his own wellbeing.

"No more so then usual." Glorfindel's eyes narrowed.

"You can barely concentrate on the road ahead of you, your mind wanders and you drift in and out of sleep as we ride. The others will notice soon. I have placated them with your exhaustion of other skirmishes but you and I know better." Haldir's even eyes met Lord Glorfindel's. "You need help…do not deny it. There are plenty of ships…Do not hesitate on your sons account if the sea calls to you-"

"The sea does not call to me." Glorfindel snapped a thick aura of fury gathering at a focal point. Orophin shrank back, Haldir did so unconsciously. But though his senses screamed in protest he fought against his instincts and rose to his full height, as if to compensate for the difference between their light.

"What?"

Glorfindel winced pressing a hand to his temples massaging them as if they in headache. "It is not uncommon for elves to be unaffected by the sea."

Orophin frowned as he shifted his bow. "But you are an Elder elf!"

"And not the first to have little desire for sailing." Glorfindel rose, a hand resting on Haldir's shoulder. "I apologize for my anger."

Haldir was not placated. "You say the sea calls not to you, yet you act as if it was not so… You are not fading and yet…"

"I am fine…" But as Haldir looked on at the Elder elf he saw, saw past the even face and past the thin smile and the indifferent façade. And he saw, saw Lord Glorfindel for the first time, gasping at the lines of age that had been obscured by the light, deep below the shining star that was the Elder elf were deep chasms of emptiness, chasms of darkness and nothingness, chasms of pain and horrors he could scarcely even comprehend. Glorfindel shuddered at the intrusion for though Elves can discern things far better than man seldom are able to discern the soul in its rawest form and then only in the rarest occasions is such an occurrence not at the behest or an accidental intrusion by a skilled healer. It was Haldir's sheer will and insight that allowed him to see as much as he did.

"Muindor?" Orophin was by Haldir's side the Captain was drawn from the experience. "You…"

"I am fine Captain…" But Haldir was not convinced; his eyes searched Lord Glorfindel's as he tried to comprehend what had driven the elf to do all he did, what he had done, what it was that kept him going. But his thoughts were interrupted by Glorfindel sharply turning toward the east.

"I sense nothing…" Orophin trailed off.

"Listen…"

Haldir strained his ears and though it was faint he could hear a rhythmic march. If they were any less experienced confusion would have flitted over their faces, but having been subject to Rumil's recanting's of lore for centuries made them instantly wary. His sword was shining in the sunlight moments later, "Ambush!"

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