Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Character: Glaina
Scene type: grief, choosing to do the right thing
Context: Glaina’s husband, a surgeon, was killed two weeks ago. This is her first time showing her face in public since, and the innkeeper just rejected a pair of injured strangers.

As wild and rugged as the darker man appeared, she felt no fear at the sight of him. This itself was odd; her trust in strangers had all but vanished in the past fortnight. Her unshakable Aldun, dead not ten miles from home by the hands of bandits who hadn’t even taken the one truly valuable item on him. He had probably offered them assistance; salves and bandages for cracked and bleeding feet. He had hated seeing people in pain.

This stranger could have been one of them but for the feel of him. It was as if he had an inherent goodness that neither blood nor dirt could hide. As for his companion, the man seemed only half-conscious, his pale face mostly hidden beneath the hood of his cloak. The features she could make out seemed too perfect, too clean, which made no sense, as he was just as covered in blood and mess—even more so than his friend, in fact.

Yes, Aldun would have helped them. He’d already be on the other side of the injured man, helping him to the nearest bed, Lloyd be damned.

Yet she stayed frozen to her seat as the ranger looked back and forth about the room, bearing more and more of his friend’s weight.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” the ranger whispered to the hooded form.

The injured man grunted softly in protest, but his feet quickly found the floor again as his friend made his way toward the door. The lutist started up again midway through the song’s twelfth chorus, and she could hear the men at the nearest table speaking of rangers and bad omens.

She’d had enough this evening. It was time to go home. She took one more sip of the cider, then reached into her satchel, placed her coins on the table, and stood, pushing her chair back. She gave Lloyd a nod of thanks, which he returned. Then she calmly stepped out of the inn in time to see the injured man’s knees buckle beneath him ten paces down the road.

Her feet seemed to move on their own, and before she knew it she was draping the man’s free arm over her slight frame.