Haldir watched her struggle in a reserved terror, wanting to do much but being able to do nothing.
Once safe from prying eyes, he guided her to her knees, sitting beside her.
“Let me help,” he murmured, his hands chasing hers away from the laces of her breastplate. He pulled the leaves from his pouch a second time. Perhaps Tauriel would be more compliant in her state, or if nothing else, more reasonable. “Chew these.”
Those were all the words he offered as he undid the laces with a steady hand that belied his inner panic. The breastplate came off in pieces, and Haldir made an attempt to remove the armor as gently as possible. Her tunic came next. The poor garment was already beyond repair, torn and bloodied. With his mouth set in a grim line. Haldir debated his choices before taking a knife to the unfortunate clothes. There would be no saving her tunic, attempting to preserve it and pull it over her head would only exacerbate the wound.
Her bare shoulder was a sight to behold, both red from abuse and black from the dirt and grime that gathered in the wound. Haldir bit his lip, trying not to comment on the harrowing nature of it as he undid the roll of bandages. He would secure the tip so it would not move and he would carry her to a healer.
Her hands were sluggish and clumsy. They weighed so heavy; she weighed so heavy now that she pondered upon the thought. With little resistance, her hand fell into her lap.
Half-lidded eyes watched Haldirs hands go to work, scoffing in mock humor at herself. “Never thought the first time I’d have you unlacing my garb would be like this.” Her tone was sarcastic in humor as she flicked her gaze towards Haldirs hand where the leaves rested. Chewing on the leaves slowly, everything drew too much effort from her, everything seemed to slow down.
One moment she was watching his hands and the next her garb was cut from her form and she felt the cool bark of the tree against her back. Where had her mind gone in that moment? Perhaps she simply lost focus, she strained her mind to remained focus from here on out.
“You even cut my dress,” she murmured her words together laced with the soft humor she expressed before, having already swallowed the leaves.
Her wound was so close to her heart, she half wondered how it would have felt had it hit its mark or even her lung. Would she have lasted as long as she was now? Her head rolled back to rest against the tree, breathing softly, appreciating the cold feel of the air against her nude torso; “Don’t fret, I never liked that uniform anyway.”
“I am lucky."
captainofthewoodlandguardar-blog reblogged this from wardenofthewood and added: Her hands were sluggish and clumsy. They weighed so heavy; she weighed so heavy now that she pondered upon the thought....
wardenofthewood reblogged this from captainofthewoodlandguardar-blog and added: Haldir watched her struggle in a reserved terror, wanting to do much but being able to do nothing. Once safe from prying...