Glorfindel was not certain what was sharper, his tongue, or his glare, yet there was not much time left with a life at stake. Frodo had been much safer on Asfaloth's back. Even though he would have ridden his steed himself, Glorfindel remembered the anguished look on Sam’s face when he simply ordered his horse to run, as hard as Asfaloth probably could bear. The sudden change in plans left an upsetSam in Aragorn’s care since the stout hobbit had refused to talk with ever since. Now that all was said and done, he felt sorry for the young lad as he paced up and down the walkway in front of the healing chambers. The other two hobbits had tried to lift Sam's spirits and after one attempt after another, he had overheard them that a meal – elevenses if he recalled it correctly - would be the perfect medicine. Glorfindel doubted that since he recognised the pain and sorrow engraved on the young master’s face. Oh how remembered such anguish. Even though there was naught he could have done back then, the elf tried to find a way to console this exceptional hobbit.

As they all had marched to their end destination, the homely house of Elrond, he had taken the opportunity to observe the three hobbits. Of course, he had dealt with Hobbits in the past and their braveness in joining the battle of Fornost, but this one carried his courage in a different way. Behind the shyness in his looks and his plain clothing, Glorfindel saw a young man who dared to go very far for his master as he called Frodo. However, it seemed wrong to him that young Sam should blame himself for the wounds the Wraiths had inflicted upon Frodo. The elf remembered his own battles, and more profoundly the losses he had suffered during the Nirnaeth Arnoediad: a battle where he had often blamed himself for not giving enough. He had tried to do better during the siege of Gondolin, but had to witness how his best friend, Ecthelion, plunged into the fountain, taking a balrog – if not the Balrog – with him. That he met a same fate once he had guided his people outside the hidden city seemed to matter less, given the bravery of his friends and his king during the fight.

Somehow, telling tales of this epic proportion would not help Sam, and Glorfindel pondered on what he could say to encourage him. The answer came to him quite simply once Sam stopped dead in his tracks and presented the tall elf a with glare. Glorfindel suspected that for some reason all the anger pent up inside Sam was about to come to the surface. As he braced himself for the avalanche of words to come, the Halfling stopped short a few steps away. Only then, Glorfindel noticed the tears that threatened to spill and wordlessly he opened his arms to embrace the emotional hobbit.

“I’m gonna loose him, ” he sniffed, “all because I ain’t doin my job properly, I promised Gandalf I would and…”

All Glorfindel could do was to let him cry, vent his frustrations and voice his fears for now. It took the young hobbit to calm down and once his sobs subsided, the elf gently pushed him a bit backwards and knelt down to face Sam. “The hour I met you Samwise, one thing that stood out for me was your loyalty. Never did your eyes leave your master and deep down I think that you would willingly sacrifice all for him. This is not what fate decided, and you have to hold on to faith, tap deeply in the courage inside you.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Sam answered sadly as he briefly met the elf’s eyes, “Look what mess I’ve gotten him into.”

“You should not take blame for this, Samwise for I do not see any evil in your eyes. It was that dark and foul creature that wounded him, not you!” Glorfindel answered firmly, but he had also seen the pain in the hobbit’s eyes and relented quickly. “I suspect the coming days will be hard on you because of the waiting. Hold onto the faith that he is still with us and that Master Elrond will do anything in his power to heal him. From a trustworthy source I have heard no words that he is slipping away. You do not doubt us or me, do you?”

“Well, I didn’t like how you sent Mr Frodo off on that horse like that,” Sam sputtered.

“You then feared losing him the most, did you not? Even here he is safe, secure in the healer’s care, and it was hard missing that you have been angry with me.” Glorfindel rose to his feet.

“You know that you’ve been very straightforward with me; after meeting Gildor I was not sure what to think of you Elves,” Sam confessed and finally relaxed as his shoulders, his gaze meeting Glorfindel’s with more confidence.

“Ah Gildor, so you did finally meet him did you?” Glorfindel laughed heartily. Sam just stared at him like a bunny paralysed in the open field. “I assume your mother never told you the complete story of your birth, did she? Ah, poor Bell, what a magnificent lass!”

Now it was the time to distract him, Glorfindel thought and gently guided the stout-hearted hobbit away from the Healing Halls, feeling hopeful that this lad would find some peace at last.