Hardly injured at all?

I gritted my teeth and tried to tell myself that Anarion was justifiably a little worried. After all, orcs were rather frightening close up, and that big one had connected rather hard with my arm.

My attempt at patience didn't work, however. I did so hate to be fussed over!

"Anarion, I'm not dying, all right?! It's just an arm wound, it's not going to kill me!"

I tried to snatch my arm away, but he took a firmer hold on it as he carefully washed the dirt out of the wound from when I had fallen.

"Hold still, Lira. Don't jerk around so, you might injure yourself further."

I glowered in silence, wishing I could just pull away and do it myself without hurting myself in the attempt.

He glanced up at me, amused, a hint of a smile on his face.

"What, to impatient to sit still for even a moment?" he teased.

I simply glared at him.

"And did you find an encounter with orcs as exciting as you had thought?" he continued, and I gaped at him, my annoyance forgotten.

"Wha--How did you know about that?!" I exclaimed, blushing slightly as he grinned at me, looking more like a boy than a ranger.

"Elenatintil told me, when you first arrived, that you were disapointed not to have been waylaid by orcs," he said dryly, amused still.

My blush deepened, and I decided a change of subject would be wise, but I couldn't think of anything to say.

"Will you hurry up with that, it's not a mortal wound, I can barely feel it! I'm hardly injured at all!" I exclaimed impatiently.

He had finished binding the wound finally, and I stood up quickly.

And promply fainted.

"Hardly injured at all, are you, Lira," Anarion murmered as he quickly bent over me, anxiety in his voice despite the humor, but I did not hear it.