After the battle of Pelennor Fields
Legolas
Legolas leaned heavily against the wall, struggling to catch his breath. The pain that went through his ribs had him barely suppressing a moan. When one of the warriors on Mumakil had slammed into him on the way to the ground, he hadn't felt any pain. But now, with the city once again safe and the wounded in the house of healing, the adrenaline leaving him. In its wake came crushing pain.
Taking several deep, slow breathes, he bit his lip and walked carefully down the corridor. If he could manage to get to a place to rest, maybe the pain would go away. But just a few steps down the next hall, the pain knocked the wind out of him once more, and he collapsed against the wall. This time, he didn't suppress a cry. He stayed where he was, trying to gather the energy to move.
But before he could open his eyes, someone put an arm around his shoulders, and a gentle voice speaking soft elvish reached his ears. "What shall I do with you, Mellon nin?"
Aragorn.
Aragorn gently guided his friend down the hall to his own room while continuing to speak to him softly in elvish. How many times do I have to order you to come to me when you're hurt before it sinks into that thick skull of yours? You say dwarves are stubborn, but I think you could put them to shame."
The elf started spluttering protests, but Aragorn hushed him. Pushing Legolas into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, he knelt down in front of him. Squeezing the lithe knee, he continued his scolding, "And don't try to tell me that I was busy and you didn't want to bother me. You should know you could never do that."
Legolas broke in. "I'm really not hurt that badly, Mellon nin; I just got hit in the side during the battle."
"Of course! That's why you looked like you were going to faint when I saw you in the hallway. And we both know that you only hideaway when you're hurt. It's a good thing I happened to see it and followed you."
The elf tried to jab at him and cried out in pain.
Shaking his head, Aragorn got up. "That does it. Can you manage to remove your own tunic, or do I have to do it for you?"
Legolas gave a sigh and slipped the tunic over his head. Wincing again as he did so.
Aragorn let out a disgusted sigh when he saw what his friend had been hiding. Deep purple bruises and various gashes marred the pale skin. A bulge in his side appeared to be a dislocated rib. A careful prodding brought another cry from Legolas' lips as he jerked away. "Shhh, Mellon nin, be still." He reached for the healing supplies he had quickly gathered when Legolas had tried to slip out of the healing ward. Then he began to wash the blood and dirt off of his friend while continuing to speak gentle elvish words. He stroked the bump once again, hoping his touch would soothe his friend. Once the injuries were clean, he eased his friend back onto the bed. Sitting beside him, he began to carefully massage his abdomen and ribs. Legolas whimpered, and Aragorn reassured him, "It's alright. It will feel better soon." He began an elvish song that his Ada and also Legolas had sung to him as a child. Eventually, the elf relaxed and let him continue his gentle touch. By the time the rib at least appeared to be closer to where it belonged, he was almost asleep. Aragorn propped him up enough to spread salve and carefully bandage the ribs before letting him lay back.
Legolas
As much as he hated to admit it, the rib pain had been unbearable. And now, under Aragorn's gentle ministrations, it had lessened considerably.
Sleep begged to claim him, but a nagging worry for his friend wouldn't let him fully rest. If he was exhausted, how much more so was Aragorn. He knew the human. Once Legolas was resting, he would go back to help more of the injured and soon get himself into the same state the elf was now. He had to make sure the man rested.
Suddenly, an idea formed in his mind. When Aragorn made to rise off the bed, he grabbed at his arm and begged, "Don't leave me!"
"But there are others injured, and you just need to rest. I won't be far."
"Please! You tell me to find you when I need you. Please don't leave me!"
He was rewarded with a gentle touch on his head as Aragorn consented.
"Alright! Can you move over?"
His tone was hard to read, but it sounded like he perhaps suspected something. Legolas eased himself over, and Aragorn lay down beside him. Curling up on his side facing him. Much as Legolas had done at Helm's deep. The elf reached out and took his hand. Giving it a gentle squeeze, which the human returned. "Hannon le!" He whispered.
Aragorn touched his forehead again and said softly. "It goes both ways, Mellon nin!" As he also relaxed into the soothing touch of his friend.
Alright, so far, it felt like Aragorn was the main one in need of comfort. Except briefly when he first arrived at Helm's deep. So I thought it was time for him to be the caregiver. I see lots of fanfictions about that, but it's fun to put my own spin on it.
Also, I am not a medical professional but google said massage helps dislocated ribs
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