Gentle hands greeted his rise to consciousness and Melost relaxed. "Just like that skirmish when we hunted down those orcs and killed them in the Ered Luin, eh, Arthain? I took two sword cuts and you tended me then as well." His breathing eased and he left himself drift. Male voices only enhanced the illusory image his wounded mind conjured for him that he had been wounded and been taken back to camp.
Suddenly a female voice asking for more bandages caused his eyes to snap open. His vision was blurry from a head injury but he made out a beautiful, slender woman with dark hair that looked down at him with concern and...speculation? His eyes narrowed and he pushed her away. "Stay away from me witch! Was it not enough? Do you seek to finish me?" He tried to stand, but a flash of pain from his head nearly caused him to black out.
Vlad was on him in an instant and Melost found the gleaming tip of a dagger at his throat. Melost's eyes grew wide in confusion. "Arthain? What..what has happened? Put the knife down, man. Were injured in the attack as well that you do not know me?" He reached to touch Vlad but was pushed back onto the hard ground. VLad leaned down close to his face so that only Melost could hear. "If you touch my woman one...more...time, I will cut those pretty ears of yours off and feed them to you, understand?" He shoved Melost roughly, then rose and stalked away. Melost lay still, totally lost. His woman? Arthain has a ...? In a rush, his recent memories rushed back to him, but in a mosaic pattern, fragmented, shattered, incomplete. The pain of loss drove itself deeper. This was not Arthain, yet Anwenelme was here...touching him, tending him, wanting him? His breath became ragged as he struggled to comprehend what had happened. others began to gather near him in threatening postures.
Men. I have been captured. I...I will die now. Arthain, where are you, my brother?
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