Chapter 9: Pressing the wrong buttons, I became rash in choosing my words

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"Well pity, I am not." A hint of bitterness in her tone as Celine grimaced at the medication that rendered her entire leg immobile.

Legolas had been way too busy with cleaning her leg to give a reply and so she ended up looking around.

That was only then that the bluenette realized she was placed in what seemed to be a tent dedicated to be an armory of sorts.

Swords, axes, bows and quivers of arrows were either strewn in corners or leaning against stable poles in chosen areas around the place, "Hmmm, not much for healers, I presume," she observed, trying to get her mind off the pain and the elf knelt in front of her as he was tending to her wound.

"There is barely anything in or around this place to heal injuries," the ellon spoke as he focused on tying a clean strip of cloth around the younger girl's thigh.

He was quite satisfied with his work since the wound looked evidently better now than it had first been, "How had you been able to walk on that leg?" He whispered as if the pain had reached him somehow and finally chanced to look up her face for what seemed to be the first time in ages.

It had been a welcome change, from the blistering and bloody wound -that had thankfully been stitched carefully enough that the hole had not reopened- that marred an otherwise flawless limb. He was met by the same face he had not seen for sixty years, the same one he had not seen even as the girl had decided to join The Fellowship in their quest to destroy the ring.

The most uncanny shade of bright lavender eyes underneath thick lashes, a perfect nose, rosy cheeks and lush lips. The same tumbles of deviant blue tied in a bun that had never ceased it elegance despite of it's apparent mess.

She never aged a day since they last met.

And her eyes had never changed since the last time he saw them.

Still so alive yet dead at the same time. He could still see the hurt, the same pain and...

Adoration.

Unwavering and still very much in there.

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Celine scratched the back of her head awkwardly and resumed looking around, not trusting herself enough to be able to handle the lost look on the Elven Prince's piercing blue eyes without breaking herself once again.

"Well, Aragorn and I did not have to walk." She stated, trying to sound cold before adding up, a bit too wistfully for her taste, "-besides, I am no stranger to pain." She leant back on her palms as she stared at the ceiling.

She could hear him hum and expected him to go when he stood up.

To say that she was baffled when the elf chose to sit beside her instead would be an understament.

She was mortified.

This was the last thing she would ever want. This is the exact thing she'd been avoiding ever since she joined The Fellowship.

This was the main reason why Aragorn turned into such a prying little bastard.

She'd been avoiding Legolas for far more times than necessary now that it had already been too obvious for everyone not to notice.

"Are you avoiding me?" The ellon asked carefully, eyes fixed on her face as if she'll show him the answers.

Celine shook her head, "Why would you think that?"

She could see him jam his eyes close from her peripherals and heave a sigh too heavy she inwardly thought that must've hurt.

Sensing that he wouldn't get any answers that way, he decides to ask a different question, "What happened that night?"

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