[Halbereth Diagona]

Sorell smiled slightly, still half asleep as he felt Kalia's cool hand stroking his head. Once the wound was sewn up, he sat up, with a twanging pain in his side. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass clock on the opposite wall. The star on his forehead burned brightly as it did when he was ill, and his usually tanned face was pale and drawn. But his chin was ever proud, and his lips were still their usual rosy red, his eyes deep blue. There was some reassurance in that. He turned to Kalia.
"Kalia, I don't want to keep you. I think we should move on. Get to Rivendell as fast as possible."