Revised 5/18/19
Chapter One
The people of Lake Town were all flabbergasted by the sight of a troupe of elves in armor standing in a boat at the very edge of their shabby homes. What was more was that three had come aboard onto the boardwalk, demanding for the town's doctor. In recent months an epidemic had swept over the land, the children more vulnerable than the adults and after twelve children died a mysterious skilled healer had come, curing the children in days. Word about the mysterious healer had traveled and when the Elvenking's own offspring had fallen ill, he commanded the captain of his army to send out a small squadron to bring the healer to him in Mirkwood.
"By order of King Thranduil, if the healer does not come forth within the hour, we shall set this town ablaze."
Many of the people gasped and whispered, exchanging knowing looks as some whispered to warn the healer.
"For the love of—this is ridiculous." came a woman's voice as a woman with dark brown hair tied up in a bun and dressed in worn-out rags of clothing. A large and strange looking bag hung from her shoulder.
"No, please, this village will fall into disease again if you leave us." said a woman, holding onto the healer's arm with her weathered hands.
She looked back at the older woman and then at all the sad faces of the townspeople. "Your children are all healthy again and I have taught you how to keep them that way. Take what I've taught you and continue to improve." she said, pulling her arm from the older woman's grip, smiling gently at her. "My services are needed elsewhere now."
She turned and bravely took steps towards the elves. She had heard many fantastical tales from the villagers about the elves of Mirkwood, mostly about their cruelty and greed. In truth, she believed most of it but also took their tales with a grain of salt. She had met elves before, and had come across some who were mistrustful of humans, but the majority of their kind had been hospitable and more often curious…about her.
"Are you the healer of this town?" the elf asked, doubting the strange looking woman before him.
"Well I did spend a good portion of my life in medical school and put myself in a great deal of debt in student loans—so yeah, I'd like to think of myself as a healer." she said, "So are you gonna let me onto your boat or are you gonna be rude and make me swim there?"
The elven warrior was taken aback by the woman's boldness. "This way." the elf said, turning to allow the woman onto the boat.
The woman swung her bag up into the other elf, "Don't be so rude and carry that."
Getting on the boat she noticed right away of the stares she was getting from the elven soldiers, the curiosity and intrigue she had grown accustomed to in her time in Middle Earth. She would think she'd be used to it by now. In minutes they were sailing off across the lake and she couldn't help but look back at Lake Town and the many sad faces she was leaving behind. It pained her to see such disappointment, considering that words did not have to be said that she would never return. She was never good with goodbyes, which is why she preferred to not form attachments.
But it was hard.
"Lady Healer," she looked back at the elf of whom she assumed was the leader of this small squadron. He was a handsome elf, of course all of his kind were super model gorgeous that it made her bitterly jealous and also horny to the point where she couldn't help but fantasize being in the middle of an orgy with all these masculine beauties. She pinched her rib to focus herself. "You will be in the presence of King Thranduil. He does not tolerate humans and under normal circumstances he would not turn to one for help but his kingdom has come under a dark cloud as his people are in need of an unconventional solution."
She forced a friendly smile onto her face. "Luckily for you I am quite unconventional." she said though with little humor. She looked back again just before the view of the town vanished behind the trees and brush of the forest.
xxxxx
"Wow…this place makes Buckingham Palace look cheap." she said, taking in the sight of the Elvin Kingdom in the woods.
"You are the talented healer of Lake Town?" came a rich, velvety voice, catching the woman's attention as she turned around to see the most beautiful man she's ever laid eyes upon (or was he just a very masculine woman?). Nevermind the orgy fantasy with the elven soldiers on the boat, her body immediately craved the sex god in front of her. "A woman, no less."
Two seconds and she already hated and desired him. It was safe to say by the crown on his head and the clothing he wore that the man in front of her was King Thranduil.
"Forgive me if my gender offends you." she replied sarcastically, proud of herself to keep her voice cool and her knees straight.
"Your impudence shall not go unnoticed in my kingdom, so you will bite your tongue in my presence." he said, standing up and going to the woman, stopping just two long strides from her. Fuck! How tall was he? She had to tilt her head back quite a bit just to look up at his oh so beautiful face. He carefully circled her, looking at her from all angles, analyzing every detail. Her attire were mere peasant rags, and she looked too healthy under the grime and filth for an average human, not to mention she did not smell foul like horse dung and rotting fish as the humans from Lake Town do. He stopped in front of her, his icy blue eyes staring into her brown ones.
Thranduil looked to one of his servants before turning away to return to his throne as the servant came forward to direct the healer away.
"This way, Lady Healer." said the servant, their voice low as they led the way.
Being lead away through the grandest of structures the woman had ever been to, she couldn't help but let her jaw go slack in astonishment. Before she knew it, she had been led into an echoing room of marble stone so glistening that she could practically see her grungy reflection in the floor and walls. The sound of water being poured caught her attention as she looked ahead of her to see that a bath had been drawn for her (or at least she hoped it was for her. Lord knew she was in desperate need of a good scrub).
"I am certain that you are weary and wish to bathe before seeing the prince." said the elven servant.
"A bath is definitely what I need." the woman said, already beginning to remove her ratty clothing. The elven servant averted her eyes as the human woman stripped naked and climbed into the bath with no shame whatsoever. As she sat in the steamy water she couldn't resist but groan in pure pleasure and allowed her body to relax as she submerged completely under the water.
Resurfacing after a minute the woman felt like she was in heaven, forgetting briefly where she was before a hand came over her and woke her from her daydream. The elven servant had taken a rag and began to run it over the healer's shoulders, scrubbing gently at the grime.
"I can bathe myself." the woman said, reaching for the rag.
"As King Thranduil's guest, it is my duty to see to your every need." the servant said.
"What's your name?"
The elf hesitated a moment, having never been asked of her name in a long time. "Ester." she replied almost shyly.
The healer looked up at Ester and smiled. "I'm Ayla."
After being washed cleaned, Ayla was given a new set of clothes to wear. Ayla was glad to be rid of the rags she had no choice to wear for the past year. The new clothes were light and had an indescribable feel to them, like silken fluid. Her hair had been combed out by Ester, her hair dried surprisingly fast with the towels, as if they drew the water out like a magnet. Ester then set to putting Ayla's hair in a simple braid that was of the fashion of the elves.
"Lady Ayla, I will show you to the young prince." Ester said.
"Tell me about the prince, what is his condition?" Ayla asked, already switching into her professional mode.
"The young prince has become gravely ill after breaking his arm from a fall." explained Ester as she led Ayla down the hall. "Soon after, he developed a fever and has been unable to eat or drink for three days now. Our most skilled healers have done all they can to no avail, which is why in desperation the King has turned to you, Lady Healer. He, like many, has heard of your renown for healing the most impossible illnesses."
"Me? But all I've done was help people change their lifestyle to stay clean and healthy. Nothing special about that." she said.
"But Lake Town is not the only place you have visited. Stories of a mysterious healer have traveled far and wide across Middle Earth." They stopped outside a door where five elves stood, seeming to be waiting. "Lady Healer, they are healers who have been unable to heal our prince and have graciously documented all they have done for the prince so that you would not waste your time repeating failed treatments."
One elf with long black hair and earthy green eyes handed her a bound tome of about fifty pages. Curious, she opened to the first page and was rather put off by the writing. "Thank you, this would be helpful if I knew how to read your language."
"We had our reservations about such an event," spoke the second healer, a female elf with golden hair and purple eyes. "Which is why I volunteered to help you translate."
"Please, there will be time for pleasantries once the prince is in better condition." said the first elf, his voice carrying a hint of annoyance.
Entering the room with the female elf, Ayla first noticed how dim the room was. Second was how stagnant the air smelled and felt. Third, she noticed the bed up against the wall where a small, frail child lay.
"Lady Healer, this is Prince Legolas." the female elf said.
Going to the young prince's bedside, she set her bag down, unzipping the top and pulled out her stethoscope and placing the earpieces in her ears before setting the diaphragm on his chest, listening to his breathing and heartbeat. Ayla placed two fingers on the boy's wrist, feeling the fluttering of his pulse under her fingertips. The female elf stood at the foot of the bed, observing the human woman and the strange devices she used. Her keen eyes observing the human woman's techniques and how she went about analyzing the young prince's body so carefully.
Taking the earpieces out and then hanging the stethoscope around her neck, Ayla stood up and went to the windows, pulling the curtains back and opening all the windows, allowing a cool breeze into the room.
"What are you doing?" the female elf asked, curious.
"This room needs air. I'm guessing since he's been bed ridden that none of these windows have been opened. He needs fresh air circulating into the room, breathing in the same stale air is doing more harm than good." she said, her tone clinical. "When was the last time he was bathed and dressed in fresh clothes?"
"Not since after he broke his arm."
"Then get me some hot water and rags and fresh clothes for him."
Once hot water and rags were fetched, the female elf helped Ayla bathe the young prince and dress him in fresh clothes.
"You're very peculiar for a human. Why do all of these things without trying to heal him first of his sickness?"
Ayla looked at the elvin woman while unraveling the bandage on the prince's arm gently. "In my experience people tend to feel better if they're clean, dry, and comfortable. You have to cure your outside before your inside. That's what my mentor had taught me."
"Lady Healer—"
"—Ayla. My name is Ayla. What's yours?"
The elf was nonplussed by Ayla's forwardness and plain-speak. "Kwenthrith."
"It feels like the bones weren't set properly." Ayla said, able to see the bump of the bone through the swelling and bruising on the arm.
"And what does that mean for the Prince?" Kwenthrith asked.
"It means I'm gonna have to re-break his arm and set it properly."
Stricken, Kwenthrith immediately looked to the closed door and back at Ayla. "Are you mad?"
"Look, I've seen this a lot. If you don't set the bone right it'll cause a lot of damage, especially in children. The very fact that he's feverish is because of this arm not healing properly. A greenstick fracture is the least of our problems. Get me two splints and bandages."
Kwenthrith hesitated a moment before she left to get what was needed and in a few short minutes she returned, but she was not alone. The other healers had also come in once they had been told what Ayla was going to do. Ayla wasn't surprised that Kwenthrith had told the others of her plan. She was a stranger, someone they did not trust, and they were only looking out for the safety of their sick prince on behalf of their king.
"I must object to your barbaric method. Your job is to heal the prince, not cause him more pain." said one.
"Sometimes you gotta break a bone or two to get the results you want." Ayla said.
"The King will not stand for this!" said the second.
Ayla stood up and faced the other healers. "Go ahead, tell your King that I'm going to do what needs to be done. At least I'm doing something."
"On what grounds must you re-break his arm? What evidence is there that his arm is the cause?" asked the first again.
"C'mere and feel for yourself." Ayla said, waving for him to step forward. When he did she guided his fingers, pressing them into the prince's bruised arm. The young prince groaned in his unconscious state while the elven healer felt the obvious notch. "If I don't reset it, not only will his arm be deformed he might actually die. Help me heal this child."
The elf looked at her and then at the young prince before nodding his head in agreement.
"Please step back," she said. The other healers all stood aside, watching with academic fascination as Ayla grabbed the injured arm, situating it against her body. She firmly grasped his wrist with one hand and the base of his elbow with the other. She paused to gather her concentration before bracing her weight, twisting her upper body with the movement as she pulled with her arms in opposite directions. She heard the sound of the bones crack back into place within the scream of the young prince who wailed in agony.
"Help me wrap his arm. Grab the splints and the wraps." Ayla said. "It's all right, kid. The worst part is over."
The elven healers in the room each took up a task to assist, Kwenthrith took it upon herself to hold the splints against the young prince's arm while the other healer wrapped it in place and a third recorded it in the tome.
"If your method does not work, then what?" Kwenthrith asked.
"It really depends on him now. All we can do is sit and wait and monitor his condition." Ayla said.
"The King will surely not see it that way should the prince's health turn for the worst after what you have done." said the cynical elf, looking at Ayla with the same distrust she had seen many times before. Frustrated, Ayla crossed her arms and jutted one hip out in a saucy, defiant pose.
"Fuck you." she said, startling the three elves with her harsh language. "You motherfuckers are the ones who wanted my help and you people have the nerve to treat me like some uneducated moron. Just so you know, from what I've seen, your weak-ass natropath hippy medicine didn't work because you all ignored an obvious injury. If anyone is to blame; it's all three of you."
xxxxx
Ayla watched as the barred door was locked, trapping her in a prison cell. As soon as King Thranduil had heard that she had re-broke his son's arm he immediately ordered her arrest. With a sigh, Ayla sat down on the ground since there was no chair or bench.
"Fuck me..." she muttered, unable to stop the memories of her past from flooding back.
xxxxx
(Past)
The sound of rusted hinged creaked, the noise loud of the damp dungeon. Heavy, armored boots stomped down the flagstones, stopping outside Ayla's cell. Looking up when the jingle of keys reached her ears, she watched warily as the wooden door swung open and a man entered. She could just make out the outline of a sword strapped to his hip right before his figure eclipsed her, grabbing her roughly to stand her up. She was then forced to walk forward out of the cell where she was met with a roguish looking man. From a quick glance Ayla took notice that his armor was different. It was polished and well cared for with an etching of a tree on the chest piece. Looking up at his face her eyes caught the sight of a crown on his head.
"You're either a king or you just think very highly of yourself." Ayla said before she could stop herself. Luckily for her, the man seemed to have a sense of humor as he chuckled. With a wave of his hand the guard released his hold on Ayla.
"Forgive the treatment you were shown, my Lady." he said, his voice gentle and smooth like warmed oil. "My men are tired from many years of fighting the dark forces of Mordor. So please understand their caution when they happened upon you in the field tending to all of the wounded, enemy and ally alike."
Ah. That's right. This is all but a misunderstanding. Fucking bastards. "As a doctor it's not my place to choose who to help." she said, keeping her voice even.
"You're a curious woman. May I ask where you are from?"
"Only if you will tell me where I am."
"Fair enough; you are in Gondor."
"Damn, I was hoping you were gonna say Hogwarts."
"Pardon?"
"Forget about it."
xxxxx
(Present)
Three days had gone by, though Ayla could only guess as her only way of keeping track of time was when a guard would come and bring her stale bread and a cup of water.
"Ayla," Kwenthrith whispered, crouching down to speak through the bars. "Prince Legolas has awoken and his fever is gone. You were right about his arm."
"Great, now tell your King to let me out." Ayla said. "I'd like to leave." Kwenthrith stood and hurried away.
Ayla sighed, wishing she could simply wake up from this incredibly long and very detailed larp dream.
xxxxx
Ayla was awoken to the sound of keys jingling and then the screech of the iron door swinging open to her cell. She lifted her head to see who it was, not at all surprised to see two elvin soldiers. They both entered the cell and each grabbed her arm and hauled her roughly to her feet, her wrists bound in metal cuffs that bit into her wrists painfully. She had been through a similar scenario before and wondered if the outcome would be the same or perhaps different. All she knew was that she was going to find out soon as she was brought into the throne room and forced onto her knees before the king. Ayla saw from the corner of her eyes the elvin healers who were standing off to the side in silence.
"You dared to harm my son in his vulnerable state when I had called upon your service to do the opposite." said Thranduil, "Your barbaric methods both appall and insult me, human. How can you call yourself a healer when you purposely cause pain?"
"Is he better?" she asked, daring to look up at him and purposely ignoring his question. She took in his posture, sitting up straight in his throne, his beautiful face a mask of calm though she could see in his icy eyes the raging anger locked within. Then she dared to continue, pressing her luck. "You had a staff of healers, all of whom couldn't seem to figure out that all your son's problems stemmed from his broken arm of which had been ignored."
"You dare—" one of the healers started but stopped short after one sharp look from his king.
"Yeah, I dare." Ayla said, now growing bolder as she moved to stand but the guard at her back pushed firmly down on her shoulder, keeping her from rising. "I dared to think outside the box and fix the problem by resetting his arm. So I ask again; is he better?" This time Ayla turned her head to look at the healers, feeling their shame and embarrassment rather than see it (and she so wished she could see it past their practiced masks).
"You will continue to care for my son." Thranduil said curtly before waving his hand to dismiss her.
"Wait, what?" Ayla wasn't sure she heard right as she was picked up and lead away down a different hallway and into a small room with a single bed and water basin. "What? No pillow mint?" she asked sarcastically, turning to the guards who merely shut the door and locked her inside.
xxxxx
For a week Ayla would tend to the young prince, nursing him back to health. The youth proved to be a fast healer as he would stubbornly insist on getting out of bed, as all children did. Ayla found the young prince to be quite endearing, growing on her quickly and it didn't take long for her to discover that he had always been treated like a prince, not a child. It also became apparent to her that she was to Legolas' personal nanny.
So, thinking she was held captive for an indefinite amount of time and since she also had nothing better to do, she would let the child be a child. She watched while Legolas would run about, his arm still in a sling and healing, though it didn't seem to slow the boy down. He was still fearless as he balanced along the edges of the walls and bridges.
"I see our Prince has made quite the recovery." Kwenthrith said as she walked beside Ayla. The elf maiden had been the only one to apologize to Ayla, and had become Ayla's only companion of sorts.
"Yeah, and thanks to your King I'm now reduced to a glorified nanny." Ayla said almost bitterly. She grew accustomed to moving around, not staying in one place for too long, it had become almost second nature for her to do so ever since she came to Middle Earth who knows how long ago.
"May I ask where you have learned such healing methods?" Kwenthrith asked.
Ayla couldn't help but think of her previous life and how much she missed her friends and family (and Netflix and coffee and Tylenol). "I used to be a doctor, having gone through medical school and learning from the best. I had the best technology and facilities and I never truly appreciated what I had until coming to Middle Earth. Being here has shown me what I've truly taken for granted."
"Before coming to Middle Earth? Are you perhaps from the Valor?"
Ayla had heard of the Valor from listening to bards sing about it in pubs and from what little the elves she had met in her travels were willing to share. "No, I'm just another unfortunate human." she said, not mentioning that she is a human with a rather unnaturally long life. She had lost count how many years have gone by, wandering from place to place.
Kwenthrith sensed Ayla was withholding information about herself and could also sense that prying would only make the situation uncomfortable for Ayla. She would have to give their new relationship time to form trust.
"Ayla! Come play with me!" Legolas called, waving with his good arm from where he stood on a thick tree branch.
"Prince Legolas has grown fond of you, Lady Ayla." Kwenthrith said, "It has been so long since anyone has seen him so alive and happy. You truly are a great healer."
Ayla shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say, kids love me." she said dryly before walking ahead of Kwenthrith towards Legolas who was grinning at her brightly.