[The Ruling Ring]

"Oh," Maeralagos said softly, brushing his fingertips against his ear again. "It's alright, and what about you? Lofinneas has--,"

Before he could finish the statement, Durelin filled him in.

"Do not argue, he has athelas, it will help," he said, then stood up and left as Lofinneas came over, the balmish herb in his hand.

Maeralagos rose then as well and stood beside Erdaminéon as Lofinneas did his duty. He meant to wait, to ask for some athelas for his ear, which was beginning to sting. He looked back over the horizon, to where the sun was just beginning to advance upwards. How long had the battle lasted? Was it really almost morning?

Just then, Maeralagos heard a slight gasping exclamation from the ground. He looked down to see Erdaminéon, his mouth shut tight, breathing hard through his nose, willing himself to stay quiet as the helpful athelas bit into the wound. Maeralagos could tell that he was in much pain. Perhaps he didn't want him to witness this...

Maeralagos turned his back then, torn. Should he walk away? Just then, he spotted Telpeheled, sitting at the base of a tree, his eyes shut, looking rather odd.

Recalling the forced nature of his response to the question he'd been asked just then, Maeralagos came quickly to him, kneeling at his side.

"Telpeheled," he said softly, then louder, as no response came. "Telpeheled!"

The Elf's head had lolled to one side in his sleeping posture. Maeralagos reached up worriedly, gently taking the back of his head, feeling something warm against his fingertips.

"I think we need some more athelas!"