Blindly, Gildinwen ran through the Men's camp, heedless of direction or onlookers, until she stumbled to a walk in the lee of a rough fall of black rock. Her chest heaved, and her face was wet. Angrily, she dashed the tears away with a shaking hand. Inside she felt as though her heart was crushing her. A violent storm of emotion raged through her. What just happened? What would have happened if they hadn't been interrupted? She trembled at the thought. But wasn't that what you wanted? Yes, gasped a part of her, weak with desire at the memory. No, cried another part, not like that, not…not without love. She struggled to make sense of it all. He had given her this beautiful gift, but had said nothing to her. He was certainly jealous of her dancing with Falcred, but what did that prove? Don't fool yourself, Gil, she thought bitterly, what's he going to see in you? A mighty Elf-Lord, wise among the Firstborn, who has seen the ages come and go? A passing fancy at best. I don't care, she wailed inwardly, knowing in her heart that she was powerless before him. That she would trample her pride underfoot, torment and humiliate herself just for one look, a kiss, any tiny scrap of affection.
Shivering she looked about her, the night was cold and she had left her cloak behind. She had no idea where she was. Rubbing her arms, she walked on, still dazed. A few campfires flickered nearby. Suddenly, she was nearly bowled over by a small figure, who rushed out of the darkness and grabbed hold of her legs.
"Gil! Gil!" Confusion soon turned to an amazed smile, when she saw who it was.
"Dalbur!" Matilda's voice scolding voice approached. "What have I told you about running off?"
Gildinwen bent down to hug the child. His tight arms about her neck felt so good.
His mother hurried up, a happy grin of recognition spreading over her face.
"Gil!"
"Hello Matilda," she stood up, unbidden a smile came to her.
The other woman looked about. "Are you alone?"
"Yes." Gil looked a little sheepish.
Matilda examined her more closely, taking in the fine dress, the lack of warm clothing and the tear-stained face. She nodded knowingly, "A lover's quarrel is it?"
"Something like that."
"Come and sit by the fire for a while, have some tea, it'll make you feel better."

Gildinwen sipped the hot tea, a borrowed blanket draped about her shoulders. Matilda chattered with news and gossip, allowing her guest to sit quietly. Dalbur played merrily around them.
"Daruth has met a really lovely girl." She smiled happily, "That's where he is now." She leaned forward conspiratorially, "I think they'll wed soon."
The homely atmosphere comforted Gildinwen and she started to relax, amused by Matilda's anecdotes, and laughing fondly at Dalbur's antics.
In the middle of a game, he abruptly came to a halt, gazing up past Gildinwen with an earnest face.
"Are you an Elf?"
"I am." Elrond's deep voice set up a resonance in Gil's heart.
Dalbur's voice was awestruck. "Do you know Eärendil?"

Elrond walked forward into the firelight, his Elven cloak shimmering. He had girt on his sword, and had her wrap draped over one arm. He looked down kindly at the child, "Yes, indeed, Eärendil was my father."
The boy's eyes stretched wide in his face, "Did you sail in his ship, in the Vingilot?"
Elrond shook his head, "No, alas. He departed over the Sea when I was still a young child."
"Oh." Disappointment curled the lad's mouth downwards, then he looked up. "Have you come to take Gil home?"
"Yes, I have."
"Good." Dalbur nodded his head solemnly, "It's not safe to be walking about by oneself at night-time."
Everyone laughed. Gildinwen stood up and folding Matilda's blanket, walked over to return it to her friend.
"Thank you." She pressed the older woman's hand.
"Don't mention it, lass." She leaned forward with a knowing whisper, "I should think everything will be alright now," she motioned with her eyes in the Elf-Lord's direction.
Gildinwen bent to hug Dalbur, and then crossed to where Elrond held her cloak ready for her. He laid it gently across her shoulders, his touch soft, and they walked together into the night.

Once they were out of sight and earshot of the others, he turned and took her hand. His voice was low and urgent. "We must make haste, yet go quietly. There has been an incursion by the enemy. We know not yet how many, or what they seek, but I will not rest easy till you are safely back at the camp."
She nodded, and wrapping her cloak about her, followed him as quietly as she could. Inside her mind raced, and her heart beat fast. He came for me!
About halfway back, crossing a broken and dry riverbed, Elrond stopped, and held up his hand. She froze, her ears straining but could hear nothing. He lowered his hand and they walked on. The sound of the first arrow came but a fraction of a second before she felt the wind of its path against her cheek. She did not hear the second, but felt its bite burn down her left forearm. She thrust a hand over her mouth to stifle the cry, her eyes large with fright.
"Quickly!" Elrond breathed, pulling her into the dark lee of the bank. He lifted his Elven cloak and she ducked in to shelter beneath the concealing folds. She needed no instruction to remain silent and unmoving. Above the other bank two dark creatures slunk, their long arms and crooked backs marking them out as Orcs.
"Well, where are they?" hissed one.
"They were right here. I hit the girl, I tell you."
"You?! That was my arrow."
"Hssshh! What's that?"
The sound of horses and men's voices came in on the breeze.
"Come on, let's get out of here." They skulked off, back the way they had come.
Gildinwen relaxed slightly. Elrond remained motionless. She was very aware of his strong arm about her shoulder, the warmth of his body close to hers, and his soft breath in her hair. She could not have said how long they waited, but after a long while she felt his hand leave the hilt of his sword, and his body turn towards hers. Both his arms encircled her, and briefly held her to him, his lips brushing the top of her head. A tide of liquid fire swept through her, and she quivered from head to foot. He stepped back, his face hidden in the darkness, and slid his hands across her shoulders, and down to take her hands.
He stopped short, and lifted a glistening hand. "You're bleeding."
"It's just a graze."
He ran his long fingers gently over the wound. "Even so, it may be poisoned. Let us hurry back. I will tend it for you."

"There." Elrond finished tying up the neat dressing and laid a gentle hand on her bandaged arm. His tent was comfortably appointed without being luxurious, a thick carpet covered the floor, the raised sleeping couch where they sat was strewn with soft blankets, and on a chest in the corner a lamp spilled its gentle light.
The air was heavy with unspoken words, and when he reached to take her hands, Gildinwen felt both a rush of anticipation, and a strange peace. She looked up to match his direct gaze. Her dark eyes meeting his grey ones.