Characters: Aragorn, Halbarad, Glorfindel, Elves
Source: Pre-Ring War
Disclaimer: It is Tolkien’s world, and all who dwell therein.
Halbarad soon discovered Aragorn was more than a ranger in training; from the stern elf-lord, sweeping in unannounced, but deferred to by all, to the two fierce warriors striding in, stinking of blood and horses, but once assured ‘little brother’ was recovering, allowing the healers to shoo ‘my lords’ out to wash.
When they returned, more suitably clad, they bounced on his sick-bed, calling for wine… staying to assure Aragorn the attacking orc-band’s heads were now on stakes. Aragorn, still weak and drifting in the poppy-haze of pain-relief, smiled welcome and held the hands of, as Halbarad realised, his family.
Glorfindel walked Halbarad to the gardens; the healers must perform some procedure requiring privacy.
“Better to leave them,” said Glorfindel, “They must open the wound to assure it’s debrided. It will be unpleasant.”
Halbarad swallowed hard, nodded.
Imladris’s gardens were soothing; Glorfindel explained who these fierce Elves were, leaving the man even more awed of his companion’s background, but the walk fatigued him. Glorfindel, himself due honours as Halbarad realised, announced they could return now.
Aragorn lay motionless, even paler. Halbarad came to his side hesitantly. Aragorn’s eyes flickered.
“Should… I call you ‘my lord’?”
Weakly, Aragorn shook his head.