The elleth from under the mountain

Old friends

I sighed in content enjoying the last few wisps of steam evaporating as the last of the heat escaped from quickly cooling bath.

I had spent the first 10 minutes trying to peel off my blood stained clothes which had stuck to my body like a second skin, giving me a free wax in the process.

Whilst the next 10 minutes where spent with my head in a bucket profusely scrubbing my scalp, as the strands cracked under the dried blood.

The remainder of my time was spent relaxing in the lilac water enjoying the simple pleasures of a good bath. I almost didn't want to get out.

Irregardless what Dwalin argued, there was nothing better than feeling clean.

A light knock on the door breaking me from my daze.

"Ontario, I do not wish to disturb you but the others are still awaiting your presence,". Lindir spoke.

"One moment," I called out, jumping out of the tub. Water splashing over the sides in my wake. The second my foot hit the ground it slipped out from underneath me sending me crashing onto the ground.

I groaned loudly, clutching my injured side. Now the adrenaline had faded, the wound pulsated in rhythm with my pulse, the sudden movement causing it to begin bleeding again.

I began to curse my inability to control even the simplest hand to eye coordination.

"Are you okay?" Lindir asked the door beginning to creak open. "NO, NOPE! I mean yes. 100% naked, don't come in!" I fretted.

"Well that looks like an interesting display of athleticism," a female voice stated. I peered over the side of the tub relieved when it was just one set of eyes staring back at me.

"Arwen," I breathed, "What are you doing here?" I asked hastily grabbing a robe, shimmying it on, before standing up to greet her.

The brunette smiled placing the bundle of clothes she carried down on a chair. "I thought Lindir might not be the most appropriate to help with your wounds,".

I blushed at the thought. "I'm perfectly capable of dressing a wound," I interjected. "That I am sure,". She opened her arms and I welcomed her embrace. "It has been too long my friend!"

"We have much to catch up on, like how you've ended up in the company of 13 dwarves marching for Erebor," she smiled releasing me.

"Has Lord Elrond discussed it with you?" I asked. Taking the clothes I began to tug them on behind a shoji screen.

"Father was not the only one to be blessed with foresight,". I nodded in understanding.

I rolled up the hem of the white top, tucking it under my chin, I walked out grabbing ahold of a cloth, placing it against the wound, to stop the persistent drip of blood.

Arwen held out a already threaded needle, taking it I dropped the soiled cloth, beginning to stitch up one of the long gashes made by the wargs claws.

Tying off the last stitch I looked up to face a pale Arwen, "I could never suture myself," she admitted, "I've done it so many times, I barely feel the needle," I chuckled. It just came second nature to me, fixing wounds, healing people, it was what I enjoyed.