To put it simply: Gildor Inglorion looked like shit.
She felt sick whenever she glanced at it. The cloth covering the wound she’d unsuccessfully tried to treat was stained red on his side. His arms were splotched with deep, purple bruises and his naked abdomen was covered in thick, criss-crossing bandages.
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The skin of his cheeks was sunken, and had taken on a greyish hue. He frowned at her rebuff and the expression deepened the circles under his eyes. Olorin had taken a seat by a desk below the window, and had spent his time rifling through papers scattered across it, pretending to ignore them all. His bronze armour caught the sunlight that streamed into the room through an oval window-hole and refracted it back ten-fold, creating an ever-changing light show across the walls and floor. Lindir ebbed in and out of her peripheral vision as he paced along the edges of the sandy-rock room. They’d been going in circles for what felt like hours stuck in an awful cycle of him trying to get her to eat his lunch and her trying not to rupture a blood vessel each time she refused. She very narrowly resisted rolling her eyes. Eat.” Gildor Inglorion demanded as he pushed the tray of food towards where Leda was perched on the end of his plush bed. Sciency jargon I don't fully understandįavourite Fanfictions Stats: Published: Updated: Words: 79569 Chapters: 17/? Comments: 329 Kudos: 755 Bookmarks: 180 Hits: 20377.
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