It was a warm summer morning, so Nimiel had enjoyed her short walk to the forest clearing where the healers cultivated medical plants. It was one of the few places where some shy rays of sunlight still reached the ground. The rest of the forest had grown so dusky, so depressing and dark that she hardly ever ventured away from the caves on her own anymore, except for picking herbs to refill her medical supply. Nimiel remembered happier times when the forest had been green and full of life. But of course many centuries had passed since then. She sighed and walked on, a bittersweet smile on her face.

The first patient she was going to visit that day would be the girl who had survived the spider attack on the settlement near the southern border of the kingdom. Eighteen people had been killed by the beasts, and it was a miracle that this child had managed to escape and survive in the forest for two days before the guards had found her. Nimiel had done her very best to mend the bruises and bites the girl had suffered but there was a much deeper wound in her soul that was not even close to healing. A whole month had passed since the guards had brought her to the Houses of Healing, but still she had not spoken a single word. Nimiel cared about each and every one of her patients but this child's fate touched her more deeply than any battle-slain hero she had attended in five thousand years.

She entered the palace through the main gate and crossed the inner courtyard. It was a busy place, even in the early morning hours. People were walking from here to there, chatting and shouting assignments to each other.

When she reached the entrance of the healing quarters, she was welcomed by the familiar smell of herbs and freshly washed linen. She took a moment to look around. This was her own little kingdom which she ruled with dedication, a good deal of pragmatism and – as the healers joked among themselves – with an iron fist. She did not even try to hide the little smile of amusement and ever so slight satisfaction that appeared on her face.

A nurse in a blue dress and white apron greeted her with a respectful nod. Nimiel handed her the basket full of herbs and inquired after some of the patients. There had been no new admissions or critical incidents during the night, so she started her daily routine as intended.

The little girl sat upright in her bed in one corner of the children's room, immobile, gazing at the opposite wall, her red hair forming a bright contrast against the white pillowcase. There were no other children in Nimiel's care at the moment, so the girl was all alone in the room.

One of the walls was covered with drawings and a big chest right next to the door held an impressive collection of wooden toy animals. There was a shelf full of books and a table with paper, brushes and paint. It was a joyful place to recover from an illness, but the little girl did not seem to care for any of it.

When Nimiel entered the elfling acknowledged the visitor with a blank stare in her general direction. The healer approached her bed and made an effort to manage a cheerful smile. "Good morning, my dear," she said and kneeled down by the bedside. While carefully examining the last remaining spider bite on the girl's arm, she told her all sorts of meaningless pleasantries, but there was no reaction. The child did not even complain when Nimiel applied a burning ointment to the wound.

"What are we going to do with you, my brave little Tauriel?" she asked herself rather than the child. Until the girl would be able to tell her what her real name was, Nimiel had decided to simply call her Tauriel, because a daughter of the forest she was, and all the other healers had started to refer to her by that name as well.

There was a knock at the door and one of the apprentice healers peeked inside. "Excuse me, my lady," he uttered. "I'm sorry to interrupt but we have a…, well, an emergency of sorts."

Nimiel turned around. "What is it?"

The young man was clearly struggling to maintain a serious expression. "The king's butler. Apparently the prince fell off a tree and suffered a slight laceration to the head, but it is poor Galion who seems to be in much greater need of medical assistance."

"Just offer him a glass of wine and tell him to calm down," Nimiel laughed. "Although I do understand his distress. That boy clearly has too much time for foolish ideas and I would not wish to trade places with old Galion when he tells his father the news… Very well then, I am on my way." She handed the bowl of ointment to him. "Here, finish this for me, please." She gave the little girl another encouraging yet unanswered smile before she rushed out of the room to face this most urgent medical challenge.

In the waiting room she found the butler stretched out in a chair, pale-faced and exhausted. "Galion, mellon nín," she greeted him, "I hear your protégé overestimated his abilities again?"

The butler shook his head. "I hate the summer holidays. In the name of Eru, that boy is driving me to the edge of my sanity. Only last week he accidentally set fire to the tapestry in the throne room and burnt off the faces of half the Valar on it. I am sure you can picture the king's reaction to a headless Manwë looking down on his map table."

Nimiel could not help but laugh. "Poor Galion, I feel for you. Stay here for a while, take a deep breath and let me see what I can do for your little adventurer." The butler sighed and managed an exhausted nod.

Nimiel entered the treatment room where another healer was already examining the prince's head. The boy did not seem to suffer too much, in fact he looked rather satisfied with himself and was admiring an enormous red and golden apple in his hand.

"Lady Nimiel, look, I picked this myself, right from the highest branch!" he exclaimed when he saw her, shaking off the healer's hand.

"Thank you, Belegor, I will take it from here," Nimiel said and her colleague gladly left the field to her. As soon as he had closed the door behind himself, Nimiel sat down next to the boy on the treatment table and looked at him with the sternest of expressions. "Legolas, what were you thinking?" she asked him. "You scared your poor friend Galion to death. And can you imagine how worried your father will be?"

The boy's face turned to the wall. "Ada has no time to worry about me," he replied. Nimiel suddenly felt a strong urge to hug him. She knew how much King Thranduil cherished his only son, but being a father and ruling a kingdom in a huge, beast-infested forest were indeed two tasks most difficult to combine. The prince had a legion of people at his disposal but he still craved his father's attention – and who could blame him?

Nimiel knew that in this moment she could do nothing to ease the child's distress but to offer a little distraction, so she gave him a mirror and let him watch closely while she cleaned and bandaged the harmless laceration on his forehead, explaining every step of the treatment and every substance she used.

Her strategy paid off: As he rejoined Galion in the waiting room with an impressive bandage around his head – a benevolent exaggeration on Nimiel's part, given the harmless wound – he wore the proud face of a victorious warrior.

"I am afraid you will have to stay here for a little while to make sure you have not suffered a concussion," Nimiel decided. The prince's disappointment was plain to see but Galion convinced him to be good and obey the healers. The butler took his leave, not at all ready to bear the news to the king.

Nimiel took her patient to the children's room and ordered a nurse to put fresh sheets on one of the spare beds. The little girl gave them an absent look. "Legolas, I would like you to meet Tauriel," the healer explained. "She has been through a very hard time and is still recovering, so be nice to her!" She had a glimpse of hope that maybe the company of another child would help the girl come out of her shell.

Legolas threw an interested look at the other bed, but for the moment the only reaction he got was a frown. That was something at least, Nimiel thought and set off to finally continue her morning round.

-x-x-x-x-

The children spent the next half hour in silence, ignoring each other's presence as best they could. Legolas had introduced himself to his new roommate, but her utter lack of reaction had mortally offended him, so he chose to punish her by returning the silent treatment.

He kept it up for a good while but eventually he could not bear the enforced idleness any longer and started to explore the room in spite of the healer's strict order to stay in bed. He found the chest with the toy animals and spent some time examining them, always under the critical eyes of Tauriel, who could not quite manage to hide her interest in her new companion. Soon Legolas found his favourite animal, a tiny wooden elk with impressive antlers. He took it to the little table in the centre of the room and started to paint it purple. Tauriel continued to watch him with increasing disdain.

And suddenly, out of the blue, she said, "Elks aren't purple." He turned around and stared at her in astonishment. She had spoken in the dialect of the Silvan people, which he had been learning for less than a year. If only he had paid enough attention during his lessons to give her a proper response!

Instead he just replied with as much condescension as he could manage, "How would you know? I bet you've never seen one."

A pair of squinted green eyes turned towards him. "I have seen pictures of them in books."

"That's probably the only thing people like you can do with books," Legolas snapped.

She gasped and her face reflected her fury, but she only replied coldly, "At least I know that there are no purple creatures at all in any corner of any forest."

"Oh, really?" He rose from his chair and approached her bed, holding the elk in one hand and the paintbrush in the other. "Let me show you a purple forest creature!" With one quick movement he waved the paintbrush and splashed a good deal of purple paint into Tauriel's astonished face.

-x-x-x-x-

Nimiel had not yet finished half of her ward round when she was called to the waiting room again. This time she was expected by a rather unusual visitor. "My lord," she greeted the king with a bow, "let me assure you that there is no reason to worry, your son has not suffered any substantial injury."

The king's posture relaxed and his expression softened slightly. Under all the layers of his majestic countenance it was not easy to read his thoughts, but Nimiel had known her king long enough – and cured him from more than one battle wound during the past five thousand years – as to notice his relief.

"I thank you for your care," he replied. "Next time Legolas will know better." They both knew that was a lie.

"Do you wish to see him?" Nimiel offered. "I have placed him with the girl who survived the spider attack."

There was a short pause before he answered. Nimiel suddenly regretted bringing up Tauriel and the spider issue. She knew that the king, being very concerned with the well-being of his people and watching the increasing spider problem in his realm with growing alarm, had been utterly shocked at the massacre at the southern border. He felt guilty for not being able to protect his subjects from the evil brewing in the shadows of the forest. So when the guards had brought Tauriel to the Houses of Healing, he had urged Nimiel to do everything she could to help the child and had often inquired after her progress during the weeks that followed.

So he did now, as they walked along the corridor. "Her wounds are almost healed," Nimiel explained, "but she is still silent. From a medical point of view, it is unnecessary to keep her here any longer, but as we have not been able to find any relatives of hers, I believe she will have to stay with us a little longer, until we know what is to become of her. I would not like to see her leave without making sure that she will be placed in the best possible hands."

The king stopped and looked at her firmly. "Rest assured that I will not let this child suffer any more misfortunes."

"My lord, it was not your fault." Nimiel took a step towards him and touched his hand – an unthinkable insolence, but in all the long years of their friendship she had learned when to behave inappropriately in order to prevent her king from despairing of his self-imposed sense of duty.

"It is my responsibility to guarantee my people's safety and it was my soldiers who could not protect those families. So it is my fault, whatever effort you might make to comfort me, meldis nín," he said, forcing what was supposed to look like a smile. "So tell me, what do you suggest as to the girl's future whereabouts?"

Nimiel had indeed made up her mind about that question, though she had not spoken of her idea to anyone at the Houses of Healing so far. "Well, I believe it may benefit her mental recovery to leave the healing quarters as soon as possible. And as there seem to be no family members, I would be willing to take her under my own care."

The king seemed sceptical. "With all due respect, my lady, do you not think you may be overreaching yourself? The duties you have to oversee every day are enough for two people as it is. I do not wish the head of my healing quarters to die of exhaustion."

Nimiel shook her head. "It would not be an imposition at all. Until she is well enough to attend school, I will cut back my working hours. I am sure the other healers will be perfectly fine with that arrangement – and not altogether unhappy. As for my son, who is not that much older than the girl, he was very pleased with my idea. We are already a rather unconventional family since his father… was taken from us."

Nimiel paused. She hardly talked about her late husband and her mentioning him now, in front of the king, who had to bear a no less tragic fate, had been an accident.

He took a moment to answer, but then he simply said, "The matter is settled then. I am glad this issue has been resolved so easily."

They had reached the door of the children's room and stopped. They could hear strange noises coming from the inside, which did not quite fit the notion of two sick children recovering. They looked at each other sceptically, then Nimiel opened the door with a determined thrust.

The sight offered to them made them freeze in the doorframe: Two elflings drenched in purple paint, shouting profanities at each other from either side of the little table in the middle of a mess of pencils, brushes and paper.

"Silent, I see…" the king remarked with a smirk, but Nimiel was too stunned to answer.

In the meantime the children had noticed the adults and stared at them with guilty faces. "Legolas, stop that nonsense at once," the king said to his son in a firm voice.

The prince put down his paintbrush and looked to the ground. "I'm sorry, Ada," he mumbled.

Nimiel walked up to Tauriel, whose cheeks were red with agitation. She looked up at the healer with a guilty frown, but Nimiel just laughed and gave her a hug – a completely improper reaction, as she realised a moment later on seeing Legolas' perplexed face.

The king had crouched down in front of his son and started to give him a lecture about appropriate behaviour. His expression was very stern, but Nimiel saw a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. "You will stay here – in bed – until Lady Nimiel releases you. And before you leave, you will clean up the mess you made." Legolas wanted to protest, but his father's severe look made him keep his mouth shut.

"So will you, young lady," Nimiel said to Tauriel, who had gone back to being silent – this time, however, it was out of defiance, as Nimiel could clearly read from her face.

When the adults had left the room, the two elflings glared at each other from their beds. "Peasant!" Legolas snarled.

"Snob!" Tauriel spat back at him.