TW: description of burn wounds.

Here is chapter 5, FINISJED

My english grammar has been falling apart so please comment on sentences that made absolutely no sense to you.

THANKS

-theonewhoseeslives

Elrond's gentle hands wrapped Naniels arm in a clean linen bandage. The paste underneath left his arm tingling and numb, a cooling sensation spread under the tree leaves that were placed between the linen and paste. He then carefully tied Naniels arm into a sling, tying it securely against his chest.

It was quite fascinating and interesting seeing the skill and dexterity that the Elven Lord had, if one completely ignored the reason as to why he was bandaging Naniels arm in the first place.

The Elven Lord had barely said a word when he entered Naniels room, a golden-haired elf following on his heels. He had swiftly taken over, pushing Elrohir away and carefully pulling away the rest of his sleeve. It was then that Naniel saw the rest of his disaster.

His arm, up to the elbow had been right red, blood forming at the rivets between his fingers, already swelling. It hurt, the pain had crashed into Naniel as the golden haired elf handed a basin of water to Elrond. Elrond had picked up a cloth and held it over Naniels arm, looking up at him.

"Hold yourself, this will hurt." Naniel barely had any time to grab the blankets underneath him before had Elrond squeezed the water onto his burns.

He had passed out during the care, and barely remembered the rest of the day, spending most of it sleeping. Bits and pieces were coming back together through his sleep. Elrond pushed into his room, waking him.

Even as gentle as he way, Elrond was tense, curt, and silent though out the treatment.

Wincing Naniel returned to the present, relishing the cold that now seemed to dig into his arm. Elrond stood, grabbing the various bloody clothes and water as he turned around.

"Thank you, the paste is quite cooling." Naniel thanked, unsure of what to say, what to do.

"Dress and follow, be careful so you do not worsen your injuries." Elrond hissed, exiting the room.

Naniel throat closed and he felt the hot pressure of tears, he stood and hobbled over to his dresser. He cautiously picked through the myriad of clothes, landing on a deep mustard yellow coat. With difficulty, Naniel put on both his trousers and boots with only his right hand, before giving up on trying to put on a tunic. Instead he grabbed the yellow coat and put it on, partly with help from his teeth. He tied it around his body, gently covering his injured arm.

Passing a mirror, Naniel's face was etched with black, tear, outlines. His eyes were dark, his face pale, and dull.

"You are a monster."

"I am a monster." He whispered. He saw the sickness in the eyes of the man in the mirror. The man was too pale, too frail, too weak. Dull.

"Dull, that's what he is. He's dull, frail, weak, sick."

"Who was he once?" He tore his eyes away from the mirror and slumped out of the room.

"What happened?" Elrond demanded, his face barely containing it's anger.

"I don't know." Naniel whispered, his head falling forward, "I had a dream."

"Of what?" Elrond asked.

"Of him." Naniels body wanted to slump to the ground and sleep. It cried out as he lifted his head.

"And who is this 'him'?" Elrond did not pause.

"Him! The Dark One, of the old Stronghold and-" Naniel paused, telling Elrond of the stars wouldn't help him.

"What old Stronghold? Naniel, you must tell me the full dream." Elrond leaned over his desk. Naniels shoulders sagged as pushed away frustration.

"I was in an old stronghold of Mordor, one that was destroyed for its valuable resources. I dreamt that I was back there, and he was there as well."

"What was he doing?" Elrond held his gaze captive. Naniel groaned.

"Nothing! He was doing nothing! I only saw his hand, he was behind me, he didn't speak to me. I don't understand the dream, it has no meaning, no warning!" He shouted.

"Dreams always have meaning!" Elrond came to Naniel, dragging the chair around to face him. "They always have meanings, it is always a warning. Now tell me, did he speak to you, tell you a location, time, place, number, any code, any word." He paused, "If you are lying to me, I will be forced to take harsher actions. You have gone behind my back, behind my wishes, in speaking to my sons. I have given you freedom on a leash for a very good reason."

"Your wishes! Your sons came to me, they invited me! I had no notion of your disapproval of me." Naniel watched Elrond's shoulder tense, the older elf backed away, turning to the window.

"That is not what I meant, you must understand who-" Elrond began,

"Who? Oh what, who? Believe me, my Lord, I entirely understand who I am, who I am bound to. I have had no other freedom than that which is on a leash, on an agreement, on a debt. I know what I am, so do tell me about these 'harsher punishments'." He paused, panting. "I may be inclined to suffer them."

"Be inclined to suffer them?" Elrond quoted, pausing again. "The only thing I offer you to be inclined to is the act of restraint and self-control. I have spent too much of my lifetime fighting against darkness. You and your recklessness will not undo my work."

"Recklessness," Naniel gasped aghast, "My apologies, my Lord, I was unaware that dreaming was my choice, my action. I will be sorely regretful if that has caused harm to your life-work."

Elrond was silent. His frame was shaking, trembling slightly. Was he crying? He slowly turned around, pivoting stiffly.

"You have one minute to get out of my office before you will be escorted to more harsher lodgings."

Naniel stood, pushing the chair to the ground. Raising his head high he stalked out of the study.