Into the Fire

...because I haven't updated in a long time and still won't for about another week, I bring you a scene from "Friends Close, Enemies Closer" (which might be re-named) I wrote a month or so ago. It's not very long, there's not much to it, and it probably has some spoilers, but it's here if you want to read it.

Glorfindel came upon the group of elves, all gathered around the warm fire as night settle Ted over the woods. In the town not so far off, the sounds of both humans and some elves could be heard singing and laughing. Spotting the familiar dark and light heads, he headed over to a particular gathering of elves.

Elrohir sat beside Tirnion, both repairing the leather bindings around the sword hilts. Galdor was quickly dashing off a letter to the Havens while Eluialeth wrote the account of the day, the ever present journal propped open on her knees. Glorfindel smiled as he noticed the glances Tirnion would throw her way, their occurrences become more and more frequent and their length of lingering lasting longer and longer. Erestor would surely find joy in this. There were, however, two members of the group missing. Elladan was easy enough to explain, but the other.....

“Where is Morwen?” Glorfindel asked as he observed the group.

“She is with Elladan, visiting an artist.” Elrohir said. "You know how it has always been, where one goes the other must follow. Elladan would not let her into town on her own."

“Glorfindel swallowed down the small outcry of fear before nodding as he heard Elrohir's words.

"Why are you not with them?” Glorfindel asked, knowing well Elrohir’s love of art.

Elrohir smiled, “She is not my type of artist. I will tell you where they are.”

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Glorfindel pulled back the curtain in the artisan's shop. The walls were decorated with beautiful pottery and unique examples of jewelry. There were also weavings and some headbands, as if the proprietor of the shop could not settle on one medium through which to express their creativity. Having asked where the two brunette elves were he had been led to this backroom.

His eyes settled on Elladan and Morwen and the female artist currently hammering out a design into Morwen’s shoulder, over her old wound, using a needle and ink to create the design. The artist did not look up from her work as Glorfindel entered, too busy pounding her artwork into the flesh of the pale shoulder and wiping away the excess ink and blood.

Elladan held one of Morwen’s hands, gently caressing her hair as she endured the painful art.

Glorfindel came to stand beside her head, he looked into her eyes, seeing the conviction with the pain.

“Glorfindel…” she started.

He pressed a finger to her lips stopping her, “I understand. You need to cover up the physical wound, own it, make it yours to take it away from them.”

“Make it beautiful.” Elladan breathed as he watched the design taking place.

“This will make your shoulder quite sore again.” Glorfindel said.

Morwen smiled, “But this time it is of my own doing and that makes all of the difference.”

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A/N: While I was not listening to Papa Roach’s “Scars” when I wrote this, well, upon reflection it sort of fits, though that could be just be my love for the song when I first heard it, god, so long ago.