The search party was heading back to the halls of Imladris that same afternoon. Once Elrohir had made Gilraeth's discovery known, a noticeable calm came over every single member of the party. Smiles and laughter were freely exchanged as nearly every Elf in the party approached Gilraeth and talked with him for a length of time. Some visited longer than others, but by the time they reached the Bruinen, the boy had spoken with every member.

When they came to the halls, the party disbanded and headed off to their own quarters, but Glorfindel steered his young ward towards the Hall of Fire. Elrond and Elrohir did not go with them.

The two entered the large room and closed the door behind them. At first, Glorfindel sat in his normal chair, and Gilraeth took another. But after a silent moment of staring at one another, the boy suddenly sprang to his feet and walked over to the Senscechal. He wasted no time in clambering onto the Elf's lap, and then burrowed into Glorfindel's arms and chest.

This was a mild surprise to the Elf-lord, but he held the boy securely and closely, feeling a strange mix of emotions. He was angry with himself for losing this child so easily. He was sad for Gilraeth's many trials in life, and he was frustrated with peace's elusion of the Last Homely House.

There was no need to speak at all, at least for awhile. Eventually, though, Glorfindel gently coaxed the boy to look at him. The firelight illuminated Gilraeth's slightly damp cheeks, and he felt a stab of pain.

"My dear boy . . . what happened?"

Gilraeth frowned slightly, and cast his gaze away, towards the door. "That man took me. He told me it . . . it was because you had spoken badly of him, and this is what we deserved."

"We?"

Gilraeth's brown eyes lighted on Glorfindel's again. "You. Me. Elrond. Everybody."

Glorfindel clenched his jaw at this, but also reminded himself that that man was now dead. "Yes, and what happened then?"

"Well . . .I tried to run a few times. He always caught me. The last time he caught me, he was ready to beat me." Gilraeth's face then brightened. "But the Elladan saved me!"
Glorfindel nearly fell off his chair. He actually wasn't sure if he had heard the boy correctly. "Elladan? Elladan, you say?"

With a nod of excitement that shook his red locks, Gilraeth exclaimed, "Yes! He did, he came and slew the man, and then he took me away from there. But . . ." Gilraeth's face fell again. "He said he had to leave again. He disguised his tracks as best as he could, so that if anyone else but the Elves were following, it would throw them off the trail. He told me that you would soon come for me, to look for you at dawn. And then . . . he was gone."

The child hung his head.

"It's my fault. I should have urged him to stay, but . . . I couldn't. I felt very sad for his leave-taking, but I also sensed that that was how it had to be." He lifted his head and looked at his caretaker. "Was that right, Glorfindel? Did he really have to leave us again?"

Glorfindel's mind was spinning. If the boy had not with him, and he had found this out, a trip down to the wine cellar would've most definitely been in order! Yes, some wine, maybe a little food, a little more wine, and then some more, and so on and so forth. But alas, he could not, not yet.

Elladan had returned! A very short period of time, yes, but he had returned to Arda. Or had it simply been the spirit of the elder twin? The Senecshal did not know for sure. He was tired. No, not tired – drained. Too drained to think about this now. He was sure Gilraeth was as well. But there was one more matter that still pressed him.

"Gilraeth . . . when I brought you into the tent, why did you not recognize any of us?"

The boy's brow furrowed a little bit. "I'm not at all sure. It was if some cloud moved over my eyes, and I could not distinguish a friend from a foe. But I'm all right now, aren't I?"

Glorfindel smiled tiredly. "Yes, pen-neth. You are all right. You are safe." He embraced Gilraeth and held him a few more minutes before they both stood and left the Hall of Fire. Gilraeth bid Glorfindel good night and went to his quarters.

As for the Senecshal, however, he had awakened mentally just enough to remember his idea of a visit to a certain wine cellar . . .