Throwing out ministories I wrote literally years ago again because they're cute.
Light.
Warmth.
Ow. Ow ow ow.
Ah... right. She'd fallen asleep in the healing ward, after being stitched up from her latest semi-nasty injury. It wasn't her fault this time; that branch had been deceptively dry-looking. Well, no use whining about it, Silana thought as she awoke fully, but some painkillers would certainly be nice.
"Are you awake? Oh, you are."
"Tathor," she mumbled, and she smiled. She was very fond of her younger friend, who, as she had been reminded last night, was quite a capable healer. He'd grown up so fast.
"You want painkillers, right?" He held a small bottle to her mouth without waiting for an answer.
She drank, knowing she could have held the liquid herself, but Tathor was happiest when he was helping people. "How come you are always here when I get hurt?" she wondered between sips.
"I'm your friend, right?"
"Sure, but I don't see Legolas here."
"Legolas isn't a healer, and he needed to go with his Ada to the speech," the pinkish-haired elf explained matter-of-factly.
Wait a second, that had been yesterday. "Have you been here all night?"
He shrugged sheepishly and mumbled something about her Nana and Aleinia leaving just a few minutes ago to sleep.
"Tathor, you are the best."
He blushed. "Am I?"
"Definitely." She yawned and stretched, still without sitting up. "So what do you think, do I have an excuse to be lazy all day?"
He nodded quickly. "For sure, but let me get you some breakfast."
"No butter on the toast," she reminded him as he left the room.
"And peach jam if possible, otherwise blackberry," he agreed.
She smiled to herself; that elf knew her like the back of his hand. Maybe she ended up here a little too often...