His Prejudice for Failure

[marchwarden]

Characters: Haldir, Legolas, & possibly Gandalf later.
Setting: Room 02-20
Format: Prose or Action, whichever
Summary: Sometimes pride can be a very deadly thing, especially when one values their pride over their own health.
Warnings: PG-13



A look of sorrow settled in the march warden's gaze as he stared at his wounded hands. The burns there have begun to heal, but they healed slowly. There were too many ugly marks lining in-between his fingers, some of which were dark scabs that healed over the last few days. His hands lacked the regal elegance they once bore, now looking to be scraggly and homely. A deep sigh escaped Haldir as he carefully wrapped them in ointment drenched bandages. Despite all his efforts, the march warden realized he would need help. He utterly detests the thought of asking White Wizard for assistance, but it looks as if his options were waning.

Almost done wrapping his hands, Haldir paused once he heard a knock at the door. He had known that the Prince of Mirkwood would make an appearance soon. Since the last time they've spoke, Legolas showed great concern for his well-being. Whether or not Haldir appreciated such concern is another matter all by itself, but the march warden couldn't help but feel somewhat grateful. If it hadn't been for Legolas, the march warden was certain that he would've perished in this hell months ago. Therefore, he honestly cannot claim to dislike the younger elf too much. In truth, he's actually grown quite fond of him.

"Creoso a'baramin, mellonamin." He called out towards the door.

Comments

[marchwarden]

He honestly hadn't noticed Legolas presence until the elf was suddenly standing before him. It was then he glanced up at the other and stared at him for what seemed to be a brief eternity. Haldir didn't know what to say or even how to approach this matter with the subtly it needed. He wanted nothing more than to confess to everything he felt, and thank Legolas from the bottom of his heart. Yet he found himself mute before the prince's presence.

Therefore, instead of saying anything Haldir leaned forward and swept Legolas up in a tight embrace. The march warden wouldn't dare voice his thoughts to him now, he simply couldn't. However, he could at least attempt to express them if nothing else. The two of them were all that was left of their broken realm, the last two elves in existence. Their concern for each other was at first out of friendship alone, but Haldir couldn't lie and claim it was still simply that. So instead of voicing any of these unexpressed thoughts, Haldir just hugged him as tightly as he could.

Don't judge him too harshly, Legolas. He's not used to having anyone care for him so deeply. It's a wondrous but slightly frightening experience for one as aloof as he. Haldir was used to showing concern for others, but not receiving them in return.

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

The hug surprised him, he hadn't expected it and especially not from Haldir. Not right now. For a moment, he was simply frozen in place before he wrapped his arms back around Haldir and held onto him tightly. Message received, Haldir. Legolas let his eyes fall shut for the duration of the hug and just continued to hug the march warden. His march warden, now.

For all they'd been through together in the tower, it was no wonder that it came to this. There were times he'd have gladly gone back to war than deal with the tower but this made being here worth it.

"Oh, Haldir..." He muttered, very softly.