He coughed again, breathing hard, with a ragged wetness that I didn't like. Four arrows. How many had it taken to kill Boromir? Stupid. Dain wasn't human, and this wasn't a movie. Dain wasn't even fae in the way all the other fae were. He was maybe a demigod, and he'd made enough jokes about poisoned daggers and other such murder attempts that I knew he'd survived some gnarly shit. But I still hated it, holding onto the spikes of his spine as I drove my unimpaled leg against his back to keep him from bleeding out through shredded holes.

"You're forbidden from dying," I told him, my voice trembling. I couldn't do it again. I—I couldn't watch another man I cared about die. "Unacceptable outcome."

"I'm not going to die," he said in a soothing voice, like I was a frightened animal. "The iron's out, and the bleeding will stop as soon as I don't have any more traces of it in the wounds." Dain panted, and spat more blood. "It's going to hurt a lot for a few days, and I'll have some new scars for a while," he said, sounding strained. "But I'll be back to pestering you within a week."

"Oh," I said softly. The fact that Dain couldn't lie to me made all those words so much more comforting than if he'd been human. "Can I still pester you while you've got holes in you?"

"If you'd like," Dain said, something odd in his voice. "I won't be good for much besides lying there and complaining, though."

"Too bad you've got these handles on your back," I replied, trying for some levity while we sprawled there in the smeared blood, waiting for the guards to stay away for long enough that it was clear Dain wouldn't die on his own. "Otherwise I'd spoon you for some classic sickbed comfort."

"I could glamor them off for you," he said, almost in his teasing purr despite the strain from the agony he had to be in.

"Don't you fucking dare!"

He made a low hum of sound, hacked up more blood, then rolled his head to the side to look over his shoulder at me with a tired smile on his red mouth. "Sometimes that's inconvenient," Dain said, looking at me with a contentment I didn't expect from a man with this many holes in him. "But most of the time I really like it."

"That I know what you look like?" I asked, a little confused.

"That you'd hate it if I looked any differently." He smiled for me again before turning his head back to the side. "You're the only one who feels that way."

"Well," I said, not really knowing how to respond. "I guess that's what soulmates are for."