#44 Wounds

Closing his eyes he steeled his mind for the sharp pierce of flesh seconds before the needle entered his inflamed skin. It hurt. Although to look at his face no one would never have believed so. Berating himself for allowing the blade to penetrate his defences, time passed whilst his friend stitched until the next he knew Aragorn was leaning down to bite off the last knotted thread.

"You were lucky this time, Mellon nin." The ranger sat back, pale and tired. "An inch to the left and I would not be wasting my thread."

"It is nothing, Estel." Legolas shrugged then winced before continuing. "A mere scratch only, do not fret so."

"I would not need to fret if you took more care Legolas," the ranger replied with a sigh as he carefully washed away the blood and examined his handiwork. "That should heal nicely."

Legolas raised an elegant eyebrow at this last retort, of course it would heal, he was an elf.

Watching his friend clean and re pack his equipment away he could not help but give a sigh of contentment though. It was nice to be fussed over sometimes, even though it was by an unkempt ranger from the north. He smiled, leaning back against the tall beech he had fallen against at the end of the short skirmish which had almost ended so badly and allowed his eyes to glaze, safe in the knowledge that his friend was there to make sure he came to no further harm as he drifted into reverie whilst his body began its journey back to health.


A/N

Just consider this an outtake from a random fight at sometime in the youth of their friendship. Hope it works. :)