His arm around her is strong and sure, offering support more than attempting to clutch or cling. "Things are clearer, here," he murmurs. "It's easier to think on the things that give us too much pain and sorrow elsewhere."

He runs his hand comfortingly up and down her side, tucking her close and safe in the curve of his arm. "I can't pretend to know precisely how it feels, but I know well the feeling of being lost, even in my own body, and almost longing to fade away. The spring festival held no joy for me; I locked myself away until it was over. And that was nothing to what happened to you."

As they wander, the river bends through the edges of the wood – a friendly one, with wide, clear spaces between trees, and not dark and threatening as the Telmarines had feared. "Do you think it would help if I stayed with you tonight?"