[Envinyatar]

Orëmir bit back the bitter remarks that threatened on the tip of his tongue. He clamped his teeth together firmly. The little knots of muscle that lay over the jaws' hinges pulsed in an irritated manner. He could feel the increased pressure on his arm as Endamir clasped it firmly.

‘Yes, I’ll do this for you, as you ask, brother. But by the One if that . . .’

His further remarks were cut off as Endamir lifted his chin toward where Lindir moved slowly. The Elf’s cloak had swung forward, opening a view to the tunic beneath. A dark red stain flowered on Lindir’s shirt, his face looked a little ashen and sweat was beading on his brow.

‘Come! He looks as if he needs some help,’ said Orëmir, leading his brother to where Lindir now stood, trying to catch his breath. He directed Endamir to lend the Elf a steadying arm as he gave his support on the other side. ‘You’re bleeding,’ he said quietly to Lindir. His eyes glanced down to where some splotches of blood had dropped on Lindir’s boot. ‘I have my medicine chest in my pack. Will you let me see to your wound?’