Prompt: Forge

Recovery

  Elrond stood in shadows, observing his son in the garden. Bandages swathed Elrohir's left arm, but the father's mind remembered the terrible rents in the son's flesh.

  Elrohir recovered well, yet still unconsciously rubbed the injured limb, his eyes dark. Elrond knew the look, for he'd carried it after his own narrow escape. Forged by blood and pain, the expression of the warrior declared he had felt death's hot breath, and cheated it. 

  Elrond returned to his study. It was only when he reached for his quill that he realized he'd been rubbing the scars on his left arm.