His expression slowly shifts to one of confusion, as if he found something he did not expect. Then a dark-haired elf pelts into the stables, running at a dead sprint. A second follows hard at his heels - the twinborn sons of Elrond have answered the call.
"Glorfindel?" One asks. "My lady?" Asks the other. They had been at arms practice, and are now dressed alike in light tunics and breeches.