*very much wishes he could let you stay blissfully unaware, but anyone who's spent any time in Elrond's company will recognize the signs of severe shock, and he can't take the chance that you won't wake up again* *squeezes in beside you on the stairwell and gingerly slides his arms around you, pulling your upper body away from the stairs and cradling you against him for a moment*
*murmurs, unsure as to exactly what is muffling his voice (your hair? skin? shirt? everything is the same degree of cold and wet and trembling)* I'm sorry. We'll warm you up when we get you upstairs. But we have got to move, now. And don't you dare go back to sleep, understand?
*holds you to him with one arm and grips the handrail tightly with the other hand, levering himself to his feet and dragging you up along with* (*and if his ribs are screaming with the strain, he's far past hearing them, much less heeding the warning*)