*clutches at the sides of the vehicle to pull himself slowly, unsteadily to his feet* *is initially frustrated by this attempt as his fingers don't seem to want to pinch correctly (get a grip, Elwë, it's only nerves)*
*when he's finally righted, flicks an angry, dismissive wave at his approaching men (sure, they are) and reaches for you instinctively, folding his arms around you and resting his cheek again your hair (this, it seems, he can manage easily enough but only then does he exhale)* My goddess.