He is indeed, pale, frozen, and limp as he's released from Namo's hold. The faint shadows of what will be truly spectacular bruises are forming along his throat, under the base of his jaw, and back by his ears. His eyes are closed, unconscious rather than just sleeping.
Glorfindel occassionally forgets to take the strength of his opponent into account.
She flies to her cousin's side, looking carefully at his bruises.
"While I run a hot bath, you need to strip him and tell me where to find that damned Hunter! Only she would have attacked him like this," she hisses as she enters her bathroom, beginning to fill the tub.
If he were conscious and aware, he'd be protesting at this point.
And perhaps panicking.
Well, what would your first thought be, when awaking to find the Vala who did a fairly decent job of half-killing you stripping off your clothing? Hmmm?
Luckily, in this particular for instance, Glorfindel is still out for the count. Removal of clothing reveals a battle-scarred body, the result of taking wounds that healers and time cannot fully erase.
"You had a disagreement?" she bites out as she stands in the doorway. "If you have killed my cousin, Mandos, I will... I will..." She grasps for just what she would do.
Námo has seen worse in his former lover. This means nothing to him as he removes the last bit of cloth and picks him up once more.
"Believe me, Nerdanel," he says as he passes her. "If I wished to kill him, he would be out in the cold. Though drowning is an option."
Without much concern, he places Glorfindel in the steamy water, leaving him with Nerdanel as he goes into the other room. He fears he just may drown him if left too close to the infuriating Elf and a substantial amount of water.
The scars stand out more starkly as his skin flushes in response to the heat. He's shaking exhaustion warring with the innate reflex to shiver, warm up some, combined with all-over pain. "'Rohir? Daro, te naegra, daro..." He murmurs, forgetting utterly where he is, and what he had been doing. Two weeks ago, by his reckoning, he had gone out hunting with the younger of the Peredhil twins, and now his mind latches on to that trip to explain what is going on now. Something must have happened, a fall into the river, perhaps? Doesn't matter. It hurts.
Slowly, his eyes focus on her, at first without any recognition at all, then as he becomes more aware, with dawning horror.
"I am sorry, I am so very sorry..." He repeats, endlessly, despite the pain in his jaw. He feels, at the moment, it would have been more of a kindness to kill him outright, than to force him to face the cousin he failed first thing upon waking. He's not sure how the fight escalated as fast and as far as it did, other than that his temper had snapped beyond repair, and he had gone for the Death Lord with no thought to his own survival. And for what?
All Glorfindel has earned is the certainty that if anything, this Vala will treat his beloved cousin worse than Feanor ever did.
"Shh, beloved cousin. Mandos brought you to me. We will have you warmed and in the comfort of bed soon enough." She washes dirt and cold from his body. "And perhaps, in the morning, you will tell me what this disagreement he mentioned was about?"
Nerdanel kisses his damp shoulder before splashing more hot water on skin not submerged.
"In the morning." Glorfindel agrees, surrendering to her as he refused to do to Namo. Slowly, he stops shifvering, relaxing against the cool tile of the tub, eyes half-closing.
He cannot help it - he's learned to associate that touch with pain, burning cold pain, and so he flinches. He would pull away entirely, make a fight of it, but he hasn't the strength. Thus, with seeming meekness, he is hauled out of the tub and to his feet. Silently he hangs his head, refusing to meet either of their eyes.
Glorfindel occassionally forgets to take the strength of his opponent into account.
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"While I run a hot bath, you need to strip him and tell me where to find that damned Hunter! Only she would have attacked him like this," she hisses as she enters her bathroom, beginning to fill the tub.
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"It was not the Hunter," he says, his voice detached, his eyes still flickering with his anger. "He--I--we had a slight disagreement."
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And perhaps panicking.
Well, what would your first thought be, when awaking to find the Vala who did a fairly decent job of half-killing you stripping off your clothing? Hmmm?
Luckily, in this particular for instance, Glorfindel is still out for the count. Removal of clothing reveals a battle-scarred body, the result of taking wounds that healers and time cannot fully erase.
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"Believe me, Nerdanel," he says as he passes her. "If I wished to kill him, he would be out in the cold. Though drowning is an option."
Without much concern, he places Glorfindel in the steamy water, leaving him with Nerdanel as he goes into the other room. He fears he just may drown him if left too close to the infuriating Elf and a substantial amount of water.
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For a long moment Glorfindel stays still, slumping in the hot water.
Then he thrashes, albeit weakly, his eyes open and staring blankly, unseeing.
Going from frozen cold to near-boiling hot hurts quite a bit, necessary as it is in this case.
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"Cousin, 'tis only me. Hush now. You need to be warm. No frostbite. Meneliel will never forgive me if her Ada loses bits of himself."
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"'Rohir? Daro, te naegra, daro..." He murmurs, forgetting utterly where he is, and what he had been doing. Two weeks ago, by his reckoning, he had gone out hunting with the younger of the Peredhil twins, and now his mind latches on to that trip to explain what is going on now. Something must have happened, a fall into the river, perhaps? Doesn't matter. It hurts.
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"Avosto, Glorfindel," she says softly. "Garo posto. Elrohir is not with us, I am sad to say."
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"I am sorry, I am so very sorry..." He repeats, endlessly, despite the pain in his jaw. He feels, at the moment, it would have been more of a kindness to kill him outright, than to force him to face the cousin he failed first thing upon waking. He's not sure how the fight escalated as fast and as far as it did, other than that his temper had snapped beyond repair, and he had gone for the Death Lord with no thought to his own survival. And for what?
All Glorfindel has earned is the certainty that if anything, this Vala will treat his beloved cousin worse than Feanor ever did.
At least, in his way, Feanor loved her.
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"Shh, beloved cousin. Mandos brought you to me. We will have you warmed and in the comfort of bed soon enough." She washes dirt and cold from his body. "And perhaps, in the morning, you will tell me what this disagreement he mentioned was about?"
Nerdanel kisses his damp shoulder before splashing more hot water on skin not submerged.
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"You broke him, Mandos, your ass can come in here and stand beside him for five more minutes."
She returns, pulling the drain and getting a few towels. When Mandos arrives, looking decidedly unhelpful, she glares.
"Help him up."
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"She is insisting I help," he explains. "It is best to do as she desires and not fight me."
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