Elrond was no stranger to stupid questions. Most people asked him stupid questions that seemed like things that they should know themselves. Sometimes he took enjoyment from people and their stupid questions, other times he was close to ripping his hair out. 

        Elrond was busy working, deep into his work in the healing ward. As Chief Healer he took the hardest cases and helped the newer additions to the ward. Today, a group of men came in. The told the guards at the city gates that their chieftain was badly wounded and needed a healer. The guards, not knowing what else to do, let them in and took them to the leading authority on gauze and green paste, Master Elrond.

"Master!" The guards barged into the room where he was working with one of the newest healers. A young elleth.

"Yes, sirs. Is there a problem?" The two looked between each other before telling the story.

"You see Master Elrond, the Chief needs a healer, and we though you would believe us and you would help them." It's because I'm a Pheredhil isn't it. He said naught what he was thinking but inclined his head politely in a gesture for them to take him to the leader of the men.

        He realized quickly that he wasn't sure if he could leave just yet. Elrond out his back to the two ellons and looked to the younger healer who he had been working with.

"Will you be alright if I leave?" 

"I will do my best Master Elrond." He turned back to the guards,

"Alright, show me." The two exchanged glances before hurrying off with Elrond on their heels to a room only four doors down from the one he had been in. It was a room much like the others. White walls, white bed, it was normal. Except for the fact that the sheets were more pink than red. There were three men in the room. Two by the side of the leader, and then the leader himself.

"Are you Master Elrond?!" The oldest of the men that was conscious stood up.

"I have the pleasure of being him."

"Please, our leader was shot on the ride here. He has been bleeding badly, and losing him my drive the tribe apart. We have heard of your brother and the great deeds he did, will you help us?" The question was only a whisper to the healer but he heard.

"I will try my best to save him but he looks far gone as we speak." I will make no promises, but I will try. For my brother's sake I will try. The arrow had been removed from his side, but it had been removed badly. The flesh was torn, matted, ripped and of course it was a bloody mess. I'll need a needle, he'll need stitches. "Guards." Elrond looked up to meet the eyes of the startled and obviously disturbed guards. "Go back to the room I was in, tell the elleth there that I need her to come here right away if she has finished."

"R-right away Master Elrond!" They left the room leaving the three men and the healer alone. He took a wad of cotton and got the wound semi clean, it would be best for now. The elleth came into the room with a roll of gauze and an upset look.

"Keep your wits about you child, he isn't dead yet." His steely eyes met her green ones. "Find some Athelas, Kingsfoil, whatever you prefer but I just need some." She nodded and hurried off into another room to get the herb.

"Will he be alright?" The older man inquired. 

"If it all goes accordingly, he should be fine." The man paled a bit but kept a calm composure. The elleth ran back into the room with a fist full of Athelas.

"Will this do?" Elrond took the plant in his hand with a determined look.

"Aye, this will do. I'll need bandages, and all of the supplies to stitch the wound close. Can you get that?" 

"Of course Master Elrond." She hurried over to the other side of the room and began opening doors frantically to find what he had asked for. Meanwhile, Elrond kept the wound as clean as he could without any bandages. The elleth slipped down on her knees to reach the lowest door where, low and behold, the things he had been looking for sat. 

        She brought them over to him, slipping down to the floor by his side. He crushed up the Athelas in his hand and pressed it into the deep wound. She handed him a needle with something a kin to silk. He kept one end of the string in his mouth and the other was in the needle as he stitched the wound shut. Elrond snapped the string with a strong tug. 

"Here." She handed him the roll of cotton bandages and watched carefully as he wrapped the rest of the wound. One slice of a knife later the wound was bandaged and would hopefully heal. 

"Thank you milord, we are in your debt." One of the men said as if he had been running the entire way here. Elrond held up his hand,

"Do not thank me, we did it together. You should rest, no doubt you have been caring for your friends sense he was shot." The man nodded but for the first time that night, the other man said something.

"Milord, you are a healer, correct." Elrond blinked. Sweet Eru. Didn't he see any of that?

"Yes. I am." With that Elrond walked out of the room back to his own. He needed a tall glass of wine after that.

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Well. Elrond is indeed a healer. And I have made sure to prove that to you. Happy 15 prompt everybody! Wow. 15 short stories in two days............ I think I set a record *passes out*

~Megan