[Cuthalion]

Melost lowered his sword carefully, as though in a trance. Who is this who addresses me thus? he wondered as he glanced back over his shoulder, hoping Khalad and Fidrohir had kept out of sight. He approached Thelian, suspicion in every line of his face. "Why do you walk in these woods armed thusly? The King is near and I seek to return to his army." Thelian sheathed his sword and motioned for Dorlas to do the same. "Melost, kinsman...do you not remember me? Have you been harmed or injured? By the Hunter, Gil-galad will be most heartened to see you again!" Thelian's eyes glistened with tears unshed as he opened his arms to embrace Melost.

Dorlas stood rooted to the spot as he watched Thelian, wanting to rejoice with his friend that Melost had seemingly returned from the dead and yet at the back of his mind he was frantic, knowing that Arthain's tent was not too far away. He and Arthain had barely spoken since the revelation that Anwenelme was with child by his master and friend, so he was torn regarding where his duty now lay...to Thelian or to Arthain.

Melost looked searchingly at Thelian for his heart told him he should know this one who looked so much like himself. "Melost...I am Thelian, do you not remember me?" The words were spoken in a voice which spoke of sorrow and heart-break. He held out his hands, palm upwards as he came near to Melost. "I believed I would never see you again..." he whispered. "Are you injured? Melost, talk to me!" The heart of Melost was touched by the pleading in Thelian's eyes. He held out a hand to Thelian, then pulled him close in a fierce embrace. "Forgive me, kinsman...I have wandered dark paths and now my path leads to but one place." He took Thelian by the shoulders and held him away slightly and the tear-stained face that gazed at his own nearly crushed his secret resolve. "Again, I beg your forgiveness...to know I have caused you such pain wounds my soul." He brushed Thelian's tears from his fair face, then kissed his brow. "I'll not leave you again, kinsman." he said softly, then turned and gestured behind him for the others to join him, then as he looked up, Melost froze his body going rigid as he recognised his name, spoken by a most beloved voice.

"Melost!"

He went icy cold and he could feel his knees buckle at a the shock of hearing that voice once again, the voice he both hated and loved. Thelian cried out and caught him as he fell. Dorlas, not knowing what to do, reacted by drawing his sword on Khalad and Fidrohir, both of whom stood stock still, aghast. What had happened? Why had Melost collapsed? Dorlas spoke in a steady voice to the two men. "Stay where you are until we can get this sorted out, both of you." They both nodded assent, then watched as another man, barely clothed, ran up and knelt next to Melost as he lay in Thelian's arms.