"Get a healer, now! She's losing too much blood."
Noise, pain.
"Open her shirt, cut it open if need be."
The sound of cloth ripping.
"Oh, by the Valar, move!"
Cold, tired.
"Sidhon, clean and stitch her leg while I take care of her temple."
A pinching sensation near her kneecap.
"She heals fast, even for an Elf, Aewiel."
Cool dampness bathed her face.
"I know, Sidhon. That's why we have to make the stitches small and tight."
Fading into blessed oblivion...
The two healers bandaged the wounded elleth with gentleness and the utmost care. Sidhon, a green eyed ellon, went to the entrance of the makeshift tent.
"You may see her now, heru en amin," he said.
"My thanks, Sidhon," came the deep voiced reply. An elf with pale hair and ice blue eyes entered the tent. He wore silver armor, with a circlet of metal that held a gemlike stone of a color similar to his eyes in the center of it.
"How is she?" he asked.
"She is unconscious for the moment, heru en amin," replied the other healer, Aewiel. The dark haired elleth picked up the bloodied cloths and torn shirt shirt as Sidhon gathered up the medical supplies. Both healers bowed before leaving. The elf waited, counting to sixty before sighing and walking over to the elleth that lay on the makeshift cot. She had a white bandage that went from her left temple, all the way to her neck, stopping near her collarbone. Her once torn and bloodied shirt had been replaced by a grey high collared tunic.
Her wavy, mahogany brown hair fanned around her head, stray strands of it resting on her high cheekbones. Her normally rosy cheeks were pale from blood loss, making the dark blue tattoo upon the right side of her jaw even darker. She had made an oath, then had it inked upon her skin in Tengwar to remind herself;
I offer all that I am to my people-
Daughter, Warrior, Protector.
"Erulissë," he sighed. "You brave, stubborn woman." He shook his head and turned, looking around the tent. Her weapons had been piled neatly on a small wooden table, her twin swords cleaned of the filth that had covered them, her bow next to her quiver of black feathered arrows. He ran a gloved finger along the flat of one of the blades. He'd given them to her when he'd begun to teach her how to use them. Yes, she may have learned all that she could from the other Elves, but she still had so much to learn-was willing to learn from him.
So he had begun teaching her-never once giving her any slack, wanting her to become fierce and deadly. As deadly and fluid in her motions as she said that he was. She'd once told him that watching him fight was a treat, that he moved like rushing water; fluid, smooth, fierce and dangerous. Externally, he'd raised an eyebrow, but inside he was smiling. His little girl still admired her ada, it would seem.
"Ada?" the sound of her low, husky voice had him turning around to face her. Her grey eyes were tired as she pushed herself into a sitting position.
"I am here, tinuamin," he said, going to her.
"Am I foolish, or am I brave?" her voice held a mental anguish that he knew all too well."
"You are both, tinuamin," he replied. "But at the same time you are admirable."
"I didn't know that almost getting yourself killed was admirable," she replied.
"Sarcasm does not become you, Erulissë," he said, his icy eyes gleaming with some measure of amusement. "What I meant is that I admire your willingness to protect your people with your life. However, some part of that does concern me."
"How?" she frowned, the winced when the action pulled at her stitches.
"With Legolas still on his journey, you are all that remains of my family," he replied.
"But I am not by blood and that is what matters to the people," she responded. "They want someone who shares your blood to be the next in line. Not some commonplace girl."
"Need I remind you that your parents were of noble blood?" Thranduil felt anger then. "And when I took you in, I had as good as declared you to be part of the royal family. Do not degrade yourself in this way." She looked at him in surprise.
"I apologize, Ada," she replied. "I did not know. It's just that I feel that Legolas should not have left, that I will never be accepted as your daughter, no matter what I do." She hung her head, avoiding his gaze. Frowning, he reached out and took her chin into his hand, forcing her to look at him.
"Erulissë, you will ever be my daughter," he said firmly. "No matter what you do, you will never be cast from my heart or home. You do not need to prove yourself to me." Tears welled up in her eyes and she leaned into him, resting her face upon the cold metal of his breastplate. He rested his hand upon her head, a rare gesture of affection.
"Amin mela lle, Ada," she said.
"I know, tinuamin," he replied. "But try to keep yourself from getting wounded like this again. I will not be able to continue your training." Her laughter was muffled as she pulled away.
"Thank you, Ada," her eyes were a bright grey, now, like sun peeking from behind stormclouds. "I will do my best." Thranduil stood, his eyes smiling at her.
"Get dressed," he said striding for the entrance. "We must return to the city before sundown."
"Yes, Ada," she replied, sliding out of bed.
When she had dressed and had something to eat (as per Sidhon's insistence), she strapped her swords to her sides, slung her quiver across her back and mounted her doe, Fainiel. She nudged her towards the front of the company to stand beside her father, looking to him. He returned her gaze arching one dark eyebrow. She frowned, then made an 'oh' shape with her lips. She took from her saddlebag and circlet similar to his, only it had a bright gem of clear silver, and placed it upon her brow.
The Elvenking nodded, then urged his mount forwards. She rode alongside him and made another oath to herself; She would strive to make her king proud to call her his daughter, with all that she is.