First of all, I apologize to all the medics who read this. I tried to be plausible, but I don't think it worked out very well... :/
It was late at night, but the two elves were still sitting in the king's study, awake, in the light of candles and rare stars.
"What exactly do you intend to do?" Thranduil asked, concentrating on the sketches Firion had provided.
"Remove the arrow, of course. But this will have to be done very carefully. Do you see the thin line here, so close to the arrow?" Alanor asked, pointing to one of the drawings. "It's one of the most important veins in any elf's body. We can tear it very easily, but it will be almost impossible to restore it."
Thranduil nodded slowly, fully relying on her experience.
This young lady, the sister of one of the best healers, Firion, was trained by both healers and warriors, but almost never appeared among the healers in the Palace, and was part of the regular patrol and treated the injuries of warriors in the forest, even where there was no medicine at all. However, when her brother realized exactly what he would have to do with Marie's wound, he immediately summoned her to the healers' chambers.
"You're here because you'll have to remove the arrow without painkillers, or anything that might make it easier for Marie, right? You're an expert..." Thranduil guessed. Judging by the expression on her face, anxious and frowning, he guessed correctly. And that was bad.
"This arrow infused a certain amount of poison into her," Alanor explained. "It's not fatal, but we can't risk mixing it with anything else. I'm afraid she'll have to go through all this while she's awake. Again."
Thranduil frowned, not considering this the safest idea, but he wasn't entirely competent to argue with experienced healers. So he only laid a gentle hand on Alanor's shoulder:
"I trust you, child. Do what you must."
The next moment, the door swung open, and the only elf who could have entered the King's office without knocking appeared in the doorway. Galion, the Butler.
"She's getting worse."
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"Firion, won't I inconvenience you?" Legolas asked quickly, crossing the healers' chambers and stopping where Marie lay, incredibly tired, and a dozen or so healers were puzzling over the difficult task.
"You might be inconvenience for me, but only you can help your sister," Firion said. He was another eternal companion of the Prince. "Be so kind as to sit quietly and not be nervous."
Legolas raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue.
As he sank into the chair beside Amariel's bed, he knew that she was deliberately ignoring his presence and and deliberately didn't even look at him. It was easier that way. It was easier for her not to think that her strong older brother had seen her tears, her weakness...
He knew that she was trying not to scream: she always did, always to no avail, and he could never understand why. However, as Firion's hand moved the shortened shaft of the arrow slightly, a sound that sounded more like the howl of a wounded animal cut through the air in the healers' chamber. But this howl soon turned into a loud tirade, full of the most obscene Elvish words, and well, Amariel was in relative order then.
"You'll thank me if I get this thing out of your leg, which is kinda unlikely," Firion replied to her swearing calmly.
"Do you even know what a bedside manner is?" Amariel hissed through clenched teeth, even though everyone knew that this boy wasn't polite most of the time. Even when he pulled a poisoned arrow out of someone's body.
But a soft moan escaped her, and they both ran out of taunts.
Legolas gave his sister his hand to soothe her, but she immediately squeezed it so hard that he almost cried out himself.
"Oh, Eru!" Marie snarled. Her slender body, made up mostly of muscle, arched, but somehow she forced herself to lie still and not interfere with the healer's concentration. "It's like this thing is holding on to me... Firion! Please pull it out now, please!" she begged loudly. Now it was not the voice of brave Amariel Tranduiliel, and the voice of a huge panic.
"Shh, I'm doing it," Firion purred softly, continuing his work, although it was obvious that the Princess wanted to yell at him to stop now. "I'll do it in a few seconds, little flower."
He suddenly called her by a name that was given to her when she was a tiny girl, and he first met her and her family. It was always so calming for everyone...
But he couldn't do it so quickly. So, in a few seconds, minutes, and even an hour, Amariel was left exhausted, hoarse from screaming, dead tired elleth with a piece of iron in her leg.
"Just in time!" Firion commented ironically, when his sister appeared in the room.
Still, it took the healers a long time, too long, to pull the arrow out. It was almost dawn when the long-awaited peace and quiet finally came to the chambers.
Legolas looked with quiet tenderness at pale, haggard face of Marie, who could not even speak from fatigue, still holding her hand and humming softly to himself.
The elleth's chest rose and fell, her breathing was heavy and labored, and hot tears ran down her cheeks.
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Arwen walked down the corridor as fast as she could. Not that she knew exactly where to go, but others were always ready to tell her the way.
In one of the halls, she noticed a small group of wood elves sitting by the fireplace in a remote corner talking quietly and drinking: one bottle was passing around.
"Prince Legolas?" Arwen called out cautiously when she thought she saw her new acquaintance. Legolas immediately rose from his chair and smiled at her a little wearily:
"Good morning. Are you not lost?"
"No, I... I just wanted to ask if Amariel was okay."
"She's tired, but I believe she will be fine, thank you."
"May I talk to her?"
"Well... If you're ready for a couple of barbs in your address and a disgusting mood," Legolas began thoughtfully, but judging by the quiet chuckles of his friends, he did not speak seriously. Probably.
"I'm always ready," Arwen said with a small smile.
"Okay. So, I forbid you to tell any more of this story while I'm gone!" he snorted at one of his friends, then smiled charmingly to Arwen: "Follow me, please."
They were silent as they walked through the twisting corridors. Not that it was awkward, but they had nothing to talk about, and only Arwen occasionally asked curiously about what she had seen for the first time in her life.
"I don't mean to be rude," Legolas muttered, pausing at the right door, "but please be very careful with my sister. It's hard to talk to her if you haven't known her for at least three centuries. She knows how to offend."
Arwen stiffened a little, but nodded. Legolas opened the door.
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For a long time there was nothing but absolute silence and darkness, and it was so... Good. So pleasant after so many hours of pain.
And then, a soft light touched Amariel's eyes, breeze touched her skin, and in the next second everything was back. The healer's chambers, empty and quiet, her thoughts, her eyes and ears, and that sickening feeling of weakness spreading through her body.
She tried to stand up, but immediately lost her balance. Her hand automatically grabbed the table, then leaned against the wall, then against the window. Marie rested her head on the cold glass.
A few moments later, the door opened with a quiet creak.
«Hello?» a soft voice said.
She wanted to turn sharply, but she felt she might lose her balance and fall then.
«Yes?» she asked slowly, her eyes fixing on the amazingly beautiful face of Arwen Undomiel. «Oh.»
Amariel didn't say anything else, which seemed to put Arwen in actual confusion.
«Good morning.»
«Yes, a very good one. But if you do not mind I would like to be alone now, so please be quick.»
Arwen's beautiful face almost showed her displeasure, but didn't completely.
«I wanted to know if you're okay.»
Marie knew she shouldn't have smiled so ironically as she nodded:
«Thank you. Is that it?»
«No. I'm sorry, but I need to tell you something. And I believe it is important.»
«Oh», Amariel repeated. «So it is important...»
She didn't like the cautious tone Arwen used, knowing perfectly well what happens to messengers who bring bad news.