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Wine of the Wood
Five warrior trainees had a day off. Aldanna had a barrel. Tathar and Brethilríl had picked many buckets of berries, picked from outside the Keep's immediate area. Legolas had found the small cave. Brethildíl had made sure that their parents thought they were with another parent.
"Well?" Legolas asked as he led the little group towards the cave, glancing back to where Aldanna and Brethildíl were lugging the barrel along. "What did you tell the parents?"
Brethildíl grinned wolfishly. "Thranduil, Aldariel, Lothellon and Sílívren believe we are with Ladlaurë. Ladlaurë believes we are with Lothelleth. Lothelleth believes we are with Malthon and Neldororn. Malthon and Neldororn have not returned from the south, their patrol is still a day away according to scouts."
Thranduil and his ever-present bodyguard, Lothellon, were usually easy to avoid, as they were often concerned with matters of the realm. Lothellon usually left the Brethils in their mother's care, or with their friends' parents. Thranduil was impossible to avoid when he had free time, but with the situation in the south (which was keeping Tathar and Aldanna's fathers on duty) he was rather preoccupied.
The Queen, Aldariel, and her bodyguard, Sílívren, were rarely seen apart. If it weren't for their exalted status, people might assume that the two women were raising Legolas and Aldanna as a family. The pair were shut in the same meetings as the King.
Ladlaurë, the mother of both Brethils, was the Kingdoms' premier seamstress, which meant she often kept her children and their friends busy with dyeing fabrics, and occasionally even weaving or sewing the simpler items of clothing. She and Lothelleth often palmed their children off on each other in order to do their jobs without the adolescents interfering. The two ellyth often complained that their children had too many days off from training, usually after one of them had spent a day cleaning up mess caused by their children.
Lothelleth, Tathar's mother, never questioned her son's best friends, even though they were known to cause trouble. As such, Brethildíl needed only to tell her that Neldororn and Malthon had returned, and Lothelleth immediately consented to allowing her son to spend the day with his father.
"Congratulations, Brethildíl," Tathar acknowledged the elleth's efforts, waving a bucket of berries as he started to reach for her shoulder, before realising his hands were far too full to do so without losing a bucket of delicious-looking red berries. "We should have most of the day, no-one will look for us until dinner."
When they arrived in the cave, Aldanna hauled her barrel onto one end, and pried the lid off. It smelled of Dorwinion wine, but there was little to be done about that. At least it would be watertight. Legolas eyed the barrel with apprehension, until he heard a mischievous chuckle from Aldanna's direction. He still couldn't believe how well the elleth had taken to the ride down the Laketown all those years earlier, and still avoided sitting near anyone who was or had been drinking Dorwinion wine.
Each young adult took turns tossing the buckets of berries into the barrel, and Brethilríl took a bath in a nearby stream before redressing, rolling up his breeches, and climbing into the barrel. He stomped on the berries for a time, and soon swapped places with his sister, after she also bathed.
A time later, the berries were well and truly smashed, and all five had stained feet and calves. They washed again, but the berry juice did not come off.
They turned the barrel sideways, balanced on some rocks, to pick out the berry skins and seeds. Soon their hands and wrists were stained red, and Aldanna licked her fingers, eyes wide at the overly-sweet taste of the berry juice.
Legolas and Brethilríl also licked the juice off their own fingers, but Tathar and Brethildíl just shook their heads and washed their hands in the stream, with little more success than their friends in getting rid of the red stain.
When Tathar and Brethildíl returned, they were surprised to find their friends sitting slumped against the walls of the cave. Concerned, Brethildíl shook their shoulders, but received no response, except an incoherent gurgling from her brother.
"Tathar!" she called, prompting her friend to appear at the mouth of the cave, a quizzical look in his eyes. "Tathar, I think the berries are poisonous! You have to get a healer!"
Tathar immediately took to his heels, running along the forest floor straight towards the Keep. Trees moved branches out of his way, and the occasional Huorn even walked clear out of his path. Tathar ran across the bridge, and grabbed the first elf he saw.
"Legolas and Brethilríl and Aldanna are poisoned! Tell the healers!" It wasn't until after the shaken elf fled in the direction of the Healing Wing that Tathar realised who it was – Bragolaglor, the Crown Prince. Oops, he thought as he headed off in search of more elves. He's going to be frantic when he delivers that message.
Tathar soon caught sight of a group of warriors, newly returned from the South. "Adar!" he called, and the ellon's face cracked into a wide grin, before he dropped his pack, bow and quiver to rush up to Tathar, hugging his son tightly.
"Aldanna and Legolas and Brethilríl ate some poisonous berries!"
"What?" Neldororn barked, jumping back from his son to look into his eyes.
"Berries! Legolas, Aldanna, Brethilríl! Unconscious!" Tathar sobbed, utterly useless when hysteria finally hit him.
"Where are they?" the warrior-healer asked sharply, paling at the thought of his daughter in pain.
"Cave. A mile west," Tathar managed to articulate before dissolving in sobs.
Malthon took off running, and Celebglín was only a heartbeat behind. Aglarmoth, Tingallos and Belegcú followed hastily. Neldororn sat Brethildíl down on a bench and helped her to calm down.
Back in the cave, Brethildíl was panicking. She wanted to be a healer, one day, but she had never imagined it would be like this! She wasn't even a full warrior yet, and had yet to begin her healing training – all she really knew was first aid, learnt at the knee of her idol.
Her idol, whose daughter she was currently failing.
If Aldanna died on Brethildíl's watch, she would be crushed. Not only by the loss of her close friend, but also by the loss of her career – for Malthon would never teach her after she let his daughter die!
She gathered buckets of clear stream water, but washing out her friends' mouths was achieving little.
Legolas shuddered, as if cold, and Brethildíl's despair only worsened. Legolas, her close friend and the son of the King. As they were still underage, Legolas had not yet claimed the title of Prince, but that did not mean his death would be any less devastating to the kingdom – and, more specifically, the King. If Legolas died now, Brethildíl could say goodbye to her father, who always took the King's side in any situation, not to mention her career as a healer – if Malthon would not train her, the King would certainly not send her to Imladris to learn from Lord Elrond.
Brethildíl was running out of options. She could almost see her life falling apart, right now, as her closest friends lay dying on the floor of some forgotten cave, and all she could do was try to make them drink water.
Turning her attention to her brother, Brethildíl nearly broke down in tears. Losing the potential of her dream career, even losing her closest friends, was nothing compared to losing Brethilríl. "Drink, Brethilríl, please!" she begged, sobbing as she tried to make her brother swallow some of the cool liquid.
"No!" she cried, when the precious liquid dribbled out of his lips. "No! You can't do this to me! None of you can!"
As she tried, yet again, to make Legolas drink, something crashed into the clearing outside the cave with a crash. The noise caught her attention, and she rose, facing the entrance of the cave with a sword raised, thankful for the lessons to never leave the Keep without weaponry. A familiar face soon was revealed out of the trees, and she fell to the ground, weak-kneed. Malthon! The healer was Aldanna's father, and the appearance of the healer Brethildíl most idolised was the best thing that could have happened.
Malthon immediately assessed his daughter, then Legolas and Brethilríl. He sighed in relief. "They all have strong heartbeats. They are breathing fine, if a little shallow for my liking. Their pupils are dilated, and their blood is a little too thin – see the bruises on Aldanna's elbow from when she sat down? But on the whole, no permanent damage was done. Let's get them to the Healing Wing, they need lots of water to flush the poison from their systems."
Malthon picked his daughter up in his arms easily, and Tingallos lifted Legolas. Belegcú took charge of Brethilríl.
Brethildíl walked back to the Keep in the company of the heroic patrol, leaving behind the winemaking tools.
Tathar and Neldoron had drafted the realm's best healers, redheaded sisters, to treat the adolescents, who, alongside the King and the Crown Prince, met them at the gate, before immediately taking Aldanna, Legolas and Brethilríl to the healing halls.
When they reached the Healing Wing, Brethildíl immediately set herself in a chair by her brother. Culdol immediately started assessing Legolas, while Caranfinríl pushed past Brethildíl to assess Brethilríl, and Malthon started treating Aldanna.
It seemed an age before any of them woke up. Legolas threw up, the red colour of his puke making everyone in the room nauseous. He was moved into another room by Culdol, and soon after, Aldanna also vomited. Malthon carted her off into the room with Legolas, and Tathar followed, brow knitted with concern for his best friends. Minutes later, Brethilríl was brought in by Caranfinríl, after he also threw up.
A few junior healers landed the unpleasant task of cleanup, and Tathar was grateful they did not ask his assistance, for he thought himself more likely to add to the mess than to lessen it.
Soon, the rest of the parents arrived. Tathar and Brethildíl stayed silent, not wanting to draw attention to themselves as the Queen fussed over Legolas, Sílívren checked Aldanna and Lothellon and Ladlaurë crowded Brethilríl.
"How did this happen, Tathar?" Neldororn asked his son gently. Tathar gulped, guilty eyes attempting fruitlessly to avoid his father's penetrating gaze.
"We wanted to try making wine," he confessed, voice small, but in the silence which had followed Neldororn's question, every elf in the room heard.
Thranduil raised an eyebrow in eerie mimicry of Neldororn as he lifted his gaze from his dozing son.
"We must have picked the wrong berries. They licked their fingers," Brethildíl offered from across the room, causing the focus to shift to herself. She fidgeted uncomfortably under the many gazes from powerful Elves.
Thranduil shook his head in exasperation as Neldororn rolled his eyes.
"I am on leave for the next week," Malthon stated. "I think it's time you lot learned which plants are edible and which are not. We leave as soon as these three are well enough."
"Agreed," Thranduil stated, turning a tender gaze on Legolas.
