✦ My muse bandages yours due to an injury.
nethyraelyss watches as he tends to her wound like the ever protective, tender thing that he’s become in the last century. it’s always a surprise to her how much they’ve grown apart in personality. unlike aragorn, she’s still making a mess of things, isn’t she? raiding, storming, ruling, destroying... and he’s abandoned his power to settle down with the rest of the world, like their ‘siblings’ have insisted. times were SIMPLER before, but now there were true threats to their kind’s existence. and her brother? he’s learned to accept the slow pace of life. nethyra’s eyes drop to the injury again. she’s not exactly sure how she got it, not while ruining another kingdom. but she’d gotten it nonetheless, and he’d insisted on seeing it, and now here they were. she wants him to be PROUD of her. no one else in their family seems to be that, anymore. “it’ll heal by morning.” but his worry would never cease, not after the scar had disappeared and skin had returned like new. he’d joined in on the ‘quit with your wild youth’ chant. she never would.