[At this some amusement does creep into Galadriel's voice. Thranduil has his elk once more and, off all creatures, its gait was not the most forgiving. There was an ideal place to ride upon it and several that would bruise even an elf if they were forced to suffer perching there.]

You have him draped over your mount, concussed, and traveling toward the employer he failed?

I daresay I can think of few fates more apropos than that.

I shall attend your wife and to your burning chambers. Be well, cousin, and do not perish in Halamshiral. It would be a terrible fate to leave this world in so garish a place.