Raileen shivered. He did not relish the thought of going back into the heart of Mordor from whence he had come. But if it was the only way to save Middle Earth and do the right thing, he would do it. He was sitting on a high ledge, keeping watch over his sleeping companions. The wind ruffled his hair. A hand landed on his shoulder. Raileen spun around.

"It is just me," Thranduil said.

"I did not hear you come up," Raileen faltered. He steadied his panicked breathing. Too many times had people snuck up on him with disastrous results.

"Are you feeling all right?" Thranduil asked, seeing Raileen's face go pale.

"Some-sometimes I remember what my mother did to me . . . what my father d-did to me. I-I can n-never s-seem to f-forget." Raileen stammered. He felt so ashamed and low. He could not even look at Thranduil.

Thranduil unpinned his heavy black cloak and draped it around Raileen's shoulders. Raileen clutched it to him, burying himself in the warm folds. Thranduil sat down beside him. Neither of them spoke for a long while. Only Raileen's muffled sobs could be heard. Finally Raileen raised his head. Tears were still sliding down his cheeks. He looked at Thranduil and flushed.

"I am your friend, Raileen," Thranduil said kindly.

"How can you stand to be my friend after all the sick things I have been forced to do? I lived in a home where no one was my friend! I was alone. Alone!"

"You are not alone anymore," Thranduil said.

Raileen swallowed. "I know. But I am not used to knowing I can trust another person. It may take me some time to get used to—to the wonders of friendship."

Thranduil smiled. "You take your time. Go get some sleep."

Raileen yawned. He was tired. He stood up and floated himself down to the campsite. He flopped down by the small fire, curled up under Thranduil's warm cloak, and went to sleep.

Up on the ledge, Thranduil smiled to himself. It would take Raileen some time to recover from his trauma, but he would make it.