He is sitting next to his wife's bed, holding her hand. He looks worn and when he looks up at Glorfindel, the light in his eyes is dim.

"They blame themselves," he says. Quietly. "I told them I did not. And neither does she." He nods down at Celebrian, sleeping. Her fingers curled lightly around his.

"How far the others?" He asks. Quietly. He will expect the number of casualties as well.