I don't own LotR
Wyniel sat on the velvet couch in the middle of their suite. Boromir had shed his armor and was changing his tunic, which had become stained with blood and sweat. Wyniel hadn't noticed, had dismissed it for the blood of an orc, the deep stain on Boromir's neck. But when his tunic came off she saw the wound bleed onto his chest and she cried out.
"Boromir, you're hurt!"
Boromir shook his head. "It's nothing, really. I'll be fine." he smiled at her, but Wyniel wasn't convinced.
"Put something else on, we're going to the Houses of Healing right away!"
Boromir disagreed. "They have much more important things to take care of, Wyniel. A scratch is nothing."
"It could become something, Boromir. Now do you want to live to see your child born or not? Because if an infection doesn't kill you, then I will for not listening to me!" Wyniel smiled jokingly and kissed her husband, making sure to graze the wound. Boromir flinched and smirked at his wife.
"Okay, okay." he surrendered.
So they made their way to the Houses of Healing, a pair of squires carrying Boromir's armor behind them. Wyniel walked in first, and automatically felt weak. The smell of blood was in the air, and everywhere were dirtied rags and red water. Cries issued from the poor men stuck with arrows and cut by swords. Almost swooning, Wyniel took a seat immediately by the door. Boromir kneeled next to her and looked into her eyes, concerned.
"Do you need to go?" he asked.
Wyniel looked up at a dead man who was being carted out on a panel. He was stuck with three black arrows, and his face was as pale as limestone. Her head dropped between her hands and she waved Boromir on. Instead of leaving, however, Boromir lifted his wife and took her into the cooler air outside. The gardens in the Houses of Healing contained calming herbs that soothed Wyniel's nerves for the time. She smiled weakly at her husband, who then went in search for a healer.