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Well, here's a bit more of Thera and Thim's story...and what's this? We find out who that baby with the Rangers is...!
So this is kind of a chatty part....we will be moving along in the next section soon!
Thanks for sticking with this!
Thera's dreams were full of leering faces, and water. Would she ever get warm? And her arm ached fiercely. Brushing aside the faces, she moaned aloud for water. She felt her head lifted and something cool trickled down her throat. She started to drink faster, but the glass was soon taken away.
"No," she croaked aloud.
She opened her eyes, which felt hot and sandy. Her vision swam sickeningly as if she was on a boat. A warm light glowed to her left, spilling across her form in a soft wave of brightness. Was it snow? She stirred restlessly and realized she was not lying on the ground in the rain but something that gave as she moved. That didn't bruise every bone. It felt like her bed at home. She smiled at that thought. Home. Home would be nice.
A shadow moved across the light and she shivered. Was it going to rain again? A cool hand lay on her brow and slowly the whirling stopped and she sighed, grateful. A face leaned into her blurry vision as the hand lifted. She blinked several times, but her tired brain did not recognize the concerned features, the very bright, intense eyes. But the voice she heard clearly, though she could not make out the words. Beautiful and soothing, she closed her eyes again and slept.
Feeling feather light when she awoke again, Thera yawned and lay there assessing herself.
Her head still hurt and her arm, though the pain was dull, lay unmoving at her side. Lifting her head a little off the pillows, she saw that it was wrapped in clean linen from wrist to elbow.
Falling back, she looked at a ceiling of light overlaid wood. Turning her head to the left, she saw a wide mullioned window outside of which she saw trees waving in a strong breeze and racing clouds. It looked to be late in the morning. A long table stood before the window, upon which rested a pile of linens and a slightly steaming bowl from which a refreshing scent of peppermint came. At the end of the bed, a few feet away, was a closed carved door with curling leaves on the edges. To her right, a small bedside table supported an array of bottles and a goblet. Beyond the table, hung a wall hanging, a tapestry of running deer under moonlight, followed by horsemen waving bows. She could see the edge of a woven carpet and close by her side, a high backed chair whose carvings echoes the carved vines surrounding the door.
She had no idea where she was.
She had never seen such a richly appointed room in Bree. She rubbed her face with her left hand and tried to sit up further. She had to go find Thim. She had slept too long and he must be hungry.
Not able to sit up well, she swallowed dryly and rolled off the bed with a thump on the carpet. Leaning her head on the edge of the bed, the cool quilt felt good. She shook herself as she realized she was about to fall asleep again. No, no, she had to find Thim. If Thim was all right, then she could relax. Lifting her head, she slowly pushed herself up on to very shaky legs. She noticed there was another door to her left along the wall back of the bed and she debated which door would lead to Thim. Deciding the door at the end of the bed probably opened into a hallway, she careened to it, her face falling against the cool surface of the wood. Groping with her good hand, she turned her body so the left hand could unlatch the brass handle. Ah! Success! The door silently opened and she fell back, grasping the swinging door.
About to step out into what was indeed a corridor, she walked right into a man's chest, and was grabbed very carefully, to avoid injuring her arm. Lifting her up, the man brought her back to the bed and lay her down. Pulling the blankets out from under her, he covered her up again.
Smiling, he sat in the bedside chair. "Well, that was more activity than I expected from you at this point."
Thera dazed by her run in, focused on the speaker, smiling uncertainly. He had unusually dark grey eyes, a color she had not seen on anyone before. His very long dark brown hair lay on either side of his jaws, framing a friendly, concerned face with arched expressive eyebrows, a thin aristocratic nose and a warm smile. He wore a long dark blue robe, with tight sleeves and a little silver on the high collar and sleeve edges. He leaned over and placed his hand on her forehead. It was so nice and cool, she didn't want him to remove it. But after a moment he did and sat back.
Then she remembered why she had gotten out of bed: Thim! Where was he? She sat up with that thought almost making herself sick. But kind stranger or not, she had to see to Thim. Dizzily swinging her legs out the opposite side of the bed, she made to go around.
Bonk! She ran into that chest again, and the strong arms lifted her again. Tears of exhaustion filled her eyes and she struggled feebly saying "No, no, I have to go to Thim, he hasn't had any breakfast and he really needs some willow bark tea. And Lily needs grooming. I think her left rear shoe is loose."
"Mistress, all will be well. You need to rest some more. Thim is a very sick little boy-" He lay her back and covered her once more.
She waved away his comment, "That is why we have come from Bree looking for Rivendell. To see the elves, to cure his wasting sickness," she yawned and tears filled her eyes again. "My poor Thim, my poor Thim. We have to get you to the elves, I promised!" She covered her face with her left hand, crying in earnest now. "I promised! I did! I promised! And now I don't see him here, he is all I have---"
Elrond, for it was the Lord of Imladris at her side, concerned for her escalating distress, sat on the edge of the bed near her and carefully put his arms around her and rocked her softly. Whispering in her hair as he had when one of his children had had a bad dream, he said "Shhhhh, braveheart. Your Thim is just next door. You have reached Rivendell and all will be well. Shhhh. Sleep now." Her tears slowed and Thera let the rocking lull her back to sleep.
Sighing, Elrond lay her back with a frown. She had come all this way for her little one? Where did she come by the nasty knife wound? And what had happened to their horse Lily? The scouts had told him of their condition when found. Shaking his head slightly, Elrond left and went the short distance to Thim's room. Perhaps Thim would tell him who his mother was.
But standing at the still comatose boy's side, Elrond shook his head. He had not exaggerated Thim's condition. Inspecting a brazier near the bed that held some gently steaming water filled with pungent herbs to ease the boy's breathing, he checked the water level, adding a little. He then poured a small glass of cordial from a carafe on the bedside table. Lifting Thim's head he carefully tipped a little of the liquid down his throat and then massaged it gently to get him to swallow. He did that four times until Thim had drunk enough to satisfy him.
Thim was not just fighting congestion in his lungs, he had a 'wasting sickness' she said. No wonder the lad was as thin as he was. Mentally going through the many illnesses that could cause prolonged under nourishment, Elrond checked Thim's pulse. Satisfied for the moment, he lay the thin wrist down and went back to his study for a little research.
As he strolled thoughtfully back to the western side of the House and the large library there, his chief advisor Erestor stopped him.
"My lord, one of the Dunedain's fever has risen. And the little one, he... he is not happy about something and is crying quite strenuously."
Elrond laughed. "Erestor I should have taken your advice ages ago and built an actual infirmary here. I never expected to have so many patients at once."
Erestor smiled back and put a hand on his lord's arm. "I can try to calm the little one. He is not ill..."
"He wasn't when I examined him initially. Seems a perfectly healthy human two-year old. Perhaps he just needs a change. There is a pile of clean linen next to his bed. Go, see what you can do with little Aragorn and I shall attend to the Dunedain." He started to walk off and then turned, his eyebrows raised in question. "Which one is he?"
"Dashan, my lord. The one with the orc blade wound."
"Ah yes. My thanks, Erestor. Tonight at dinner, we'll discuss what to do with Aragorn."
Erestor bowed slightly and went to see to the toddler.
Later that night, all his patients needs addressed and sleeping as soundly as their various ills and Elvish medicine allowed them, Lord Elrond went into the temporary nursery just off his room. The room had previously been used by Celebrian as a solarium and more recently as a workroom where in his copious amounts of free time he indulged in a little silver work.
He bent over the small trundle bed where the toddler lay curled up, a thumb in his mouth. Erestor had done as he asked, cleaned and changed the toddler and helped get him fed. Elrond rubbed a hand across the baby's cheek, so very, very soft and brushed the tumbled dark curls off his forehead. He was a beautiful boy, wide grey eyes and a merry, gaped-tooth smile---ah, that explained the fractious behavior. Little Aragorn was teething! He made a mental note for tomorrow to make sure he had enough pain-killing tincture to rub on the boy's gums.
Sighing, he stared sightless at the sleeping boy. He was certainly the youngest hopeful to come here. How many Dunedain had he sheltered here in Imladris? How many of their lives had unraveled or ended abruptly, a withering of hope as Arathorn and Gilraen's lives had, ambushed by orcs? How many had lived lives of uncertainty and waiting? Would this little human be the one to turn hope into reality, to see the return of the king to Gondor and rule a united kingdom once again?
"Well, we shall see in time, won't we Aragorn? Sleep well little one!" He turned, and readying himself for bed, soon blew out the candles and lay down.
He had just reached the level of deep Elvish sleep, when a thin wail cut through his dreams and brought him straight up in his bed. What?
The thin wail got louder, and Elrond rushed to the solarium to find Argaorn standing up, clutching the edge of the trundle bed and crying as if his heart would break. Elrond carefully picked up the boy and lay him against one shoulder and began to rock him gently. It had been so long since he had held such a little one! The crying escalated and Elrond delved deep into his memory of when his own children were toddlers and began reciting the Lay of Beren and Luthien, weaving sleep into the telling. Aragorn hiccuped a few times and then put his thumb in his mouth, fretting around the finger. Elrond, smiling, made his voice softer and in a few minutes, Aragorn slept, his thumb sliding out of his mouth, a thin line of drool running down Elrond's sleeping tunic.
Laying the boy back down in his bed, he rubbed his back slowly for a few minutes to further relax the child.
"Well, that wasn't so hard!" Smiling, Elrond went back to bed and slept deeply.
But little Aragorn was not so easily consoled, and the elf lord was awakened twice more before the sun rose.
A bit bleary-eyed and reminded of his hectic days helping in the healer's tents during war, Elrond rubbed his face and stared down at the now sleeping Aragorn. "You certainly have a mind of your own, young one!"
The first thing Elrond did after a bath and breakfast was to make sure he had plenty of the teething tincture, and close to the trundle bed.
Adjusting his gray robes more comfortably, he went to see his other patients. A stop in the kitchens found someone more than willing to see to breakfast for Aragorn.
He went and checked on the two injured Dunedain who had been part of an escort group, along with Aragorn's parents, when they were attacked by orcs in the Wild. The survivors of the attack had raced to Rivendell with their precious charge, the next Dunadan, Aragorn. Dashan of the infected orc wound, was still sleeping but was not feverish. The other, Farlas, had a slash in his lower leg, but was up and eating breakfast. Content with their progress, he made his way to his more worrisome patients, Thera and Thim.
Thera had awoken with the sun. The room was filled with purple light slowly softening as the sun came over the eastern side of the mountains. She lay there again confused about where she was. Taking a deep breath, she sat up, and giving her a head a minute to settle it's whirling, and then shakily went to the door opposite her bed.
Her right arm still hung uselessly at her side but she had to get to Thim. Opening the door slowly, she looked up and down a stone corridor with beautiful blue and grey tile and a long runner of deep wool with old rose colored designs swirling through it. It was soft beneath her feet. Thim had to be nearby. Didn't the tall stranger say so? Didn't he tell her this was indeed Rivendell? She rubbed her forehead tiredly and leaned against the wall because her knees threatened to give way.
Taking a deep breath, she went to the next door and carefully pulled it open. She brought a hand to her mouth and leaned against the doorjamb. Thim lay in a bed much like hers, though the room had more gold in the rugs, the color of the wood and the cheerful bouquet of tiger lilies and yellow roses on the long table beneath the mullioned window like hers. His bedside table was covered with bowls and small bottles, like hers. But unlike her, he was still and pale.
Thera careened to Thim's side, banging her arm against the edge of the table. Ignoring the sharp pain, she picked up Thim's thin right hand and then kissed him on the forehead. His skin was warm but his breathing was raspy even though the air was full of fragrant herbs.
Thera awkwardly got up on the bed and hugged him with her good arm. Her bad arm she flung aside wincing as it banged on Thim's knee. Would it ever work again? She looked at it again as it lay on Thim's stomach, a thin line of blood now appearing through the linen. Thera's eyes filled with tears. Not about her arm, but because Thim was unresponsive.
She buried her face in the pillow next to Thim, her tears turning into sobs. Thim looked no better. Were the elves here? Could they save Thim? She shook him with her good arm. "Come on Thim, wake up, please! We are in Rivendell! We made it, though I am not sure how. Please! Don't leave me here alone. We have come so far. And look, it is a nice day outside." She shook him again. "Please Thim, wake up!"
The door opened slowly and the tall stranger from the day before appeared. Both eyebrows went up at Thera's presence. Lifting herself awkwardly, she looked accusingly at the elf. "Why isn't Thim better? Why won't he wake up?"
"As I've said mistress, he is very ill, and I'm not sure what is wrong with him." He sat in the chair at Thim's side. "Perhaps if you tell me how he got sick, I might be able to discover the illness."
Thera looked at her questioner and then sat back, her face draining of color. This must really be an elf! He didn't look terrifying or nasty and the room spoke of, well, for lack of a better word, civilized behavior.
Before answering his question she asked pointedly, just to make sure she had heard him right. "You are an elf? And this is Rivendell?"
"Yes, mistress. I am Elrond and this is my refuge of Imladris, Rivendell in the Common Tongue. And you are?"
"I am Thera, Thim's sister."
"Ah, his sister. I thought you were his mother. How old are you?"
"I am 18, almost 19. Our parents died last year. Are you a healer?"
"I am. Tell me of your brother's illness."
Satisfied with his answers, Thera leaned back, taking a moment to glance at her comatose brother, then looked up at Elrond. "It was late this Spring, after a great deal of rain. Thim didn't get wet or anything, the weather had actually been very warm, over a week of it. We were just out by Farmer Candle's farm, feeding the ducks in his pond and Thim and I were hunting polliwogs in the reeds. It felt really good to be splashing around in the water."
"Was the water warm?" Elrond was beginning to get an idea.
"Yes. And I remember how nice and squishy the mud was between my toes. Sad to say, the warm weather didn't last, and we got more rain. Thim caught a cold, and, and well, he just never got better."
"Did you get sick mistress?"
Thera thought about it and then shook her head. "No, no I wasn't sick. I don't get sick very often." Thera leaned over and kissed Thim's forehead, pausing to brush his hair off his forehead.
"Because he is sickly and tends towards colds and the like, everyone starts there. Most thought he had some kind of pneumonia. I went through all the doctors and healers in Bree. Even any I could discover that were just traveling through. None of them could determine what his illness was. Poor Thim, he got heartily sick of being poked, prodded, purged and bled."
Elrond winced at her litany. "I can assure you that none of that will be necessary." The elf lord stood and went around to Thera's side of the bed. Scooping her up he took he back to her room and set her down on her bed, moving pillows behind her back so she could sit up comfortably.
"I have a idea of what might be troubling your brother. I need to make a special cordial for him, though. In the meantime, would you like breakfast?"
"I am a little hungry."
"Fine. After breakfast, why don't you go sit with Thim? I think having you near him is a big help. Talk to him."
She nodded, feeling hopeful for the first time in months.
Smiling, Elrond left. Well, one problem solved. Now if her brother's illness would be just as easily fixed.
Aragorn was chewing on the edge of his tunic shirt and looked up with guileless eyes at the elf as he approached the trundle bed.
Elrond picked him up and adjusting him automatically on his left hip, he strolled out of his suite of rooms, headed for his study to finish his work on the cordial for Thim.
Once in the brightly lit room, Elrond set Aragorn down and continued to his stillroom, the entrance of which was just behind his desk. Aragorn wobbled a bit and tried to follow, but then plopped down, fascinated by the rug under his chubby feet.
Entering the cool stone room, Elrond thoughtfully fingered several bunches of drying herbs and inspected a few tightly lidded stone jars. Deciding on his choices, he sprinkled a few fingers full into a mortar. Just as he began to grind them, he heard a crash and a wail from Aragorn.
Rushing out, he saw the boy crying on the floor, a crumpled table runner, a broken vase and bedraggled roses strewn through ribbons of water. Picking up the unhappy child, Elrond looked him over carefully, but saw no injuries. Surveying the mess, he sighed. "I obviously need another pair of eyes and hands for you, my little Dunadan." Leaving the study with Aragorn, he started his search.
Thera sat next to Thim, telling him all about Rivendell and Elrond.
"Oh, Thim, everyone was right about the elves. They are not cruel and, they are actually quite beautiful, and tall! Very tall. I can't wait for you to meet them. And one of them IS a healer! His name is Elrond and he thinks he can cure you. We both have very nice rooms, but I would be happy with just one."
Even though Thim was still unconscious, he didn't fell hot, when she put a hand to his forehead. She got up and tentatively inspected and tasted the contents of the various bottles and cruets. "Ah, Thim, good old willow bark, but with a bit of something more." The next one tasted nasty and unrecognizable. Savoring the last one, she smiled, it tasted like very thick meat broth, with many flavors in it. She liked it so much, she tasted it again. "This must be what you have been eating these last few days. I wish I knew how to make it, this is just perfect for an invalid."
Looking at him again, her face fell, "Oh Thim, you just have to wake up." She settled herself comfortably next to him and started to sing.
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|Top of Form 3 |Bottom of Form 3 |
Well, here's a bit more of Thera and Thim's story...and what's this? We find out who that baby with the Rangers is...!
So this is kind of a chatty part....we will be moving along in the next section soon!
Thanks for sticking with this!
Thera's dreams were full of leering faces, and water. Would she ever get warm? And her arm ached fiercely. Brushing aside the faces, she moaned aloud for water. She felt her head lifted and something cool trickled down her throat. She started to drink faster, but the glass was soon taken away.
"No," she croaked aloud.
She opened her eyes, which felt hot and sandy. Her vision swam sickeningly as if she was on a boat. A warm light glowed to her left, spilling across her form in a soft wave of brightness. Was it snow? She stirred restlessly and realized she was not lying on the ground in the rain but something that gave as she moved. That didn't bruise every bone. It felt like her bed at home. She smiled at that thought. Home. Home would be nice.
A shadow moved across the light and she shivered. Was it going to rain again? A cool hand lay on her brow and slowly the whirling stopped and she sighed, grateful. A face leaned into her blurry vision as the hand lifted. She blinked several times, but her tired brain did not recognize the concerned features, the very bright, intense eyes. But the voice she heard clearly, though she could not make out the words. Beautiful and soothing, she closed her eyes again and slept.
Feeling feather light when she awoke again, Thera yawned and lay there assessing herself.
Her head still hurt and her arm, though the pain was dull, lay unmoving at her side. Lifting her head a little off the pillows, she saw that it was wrapped in clean linen from wrist to elbow.
Falling back, she looked at a ceiling of light overlaid wood. Turning her head to the left, she saw a wide mullioned window outside of which she saw trees waving in a strong breeze and racing clouds. It looked to be late in the morning. A long table stood before the window, upon which rested a pile of linens and a slightly steaming bowl from which a refreshing scent of peppermint came. At the end of the bed, a few feet away, was a closed carved door with curling leaves on the edges. To her right, a small bedside table supported an array of bottles and a goblet. Beyond the table, hung a wall hanging, a tapestry of running deer under moonlight, followed by horsemen waving bows. She could see the edge of a woven carpet and close by her side, a high backed chair whose carvings echoes the carved vines surrounding the door.
She had no idea where she was.
She had never seen such a richly appointed room in Bree. She rubbed her face with her left hand and tried to sit up further. She had to go find Thim. She had slept too long and he must be hungry.
Not able to sit up well, she swallowed dryly and rolled off the bed with a thump on the carpet. Leaning her head on the edge of the bed, the cool quilt felt good. She shook herself as she realized she was about to fall asleep again. No, no, she had to find Thim. If Thim was all right, then she could relax. Lifting her head, she slowly pushed herself up on to very shaky legs. She noticed there was another door to her left along the wall back of the bed and she debated which door would lead to Thim. Deciding the door at the end of the bed probably opened into a hallway, she careened to it, her face falling against the cool surface of the wood. Groping with her good hand, she turned her body so the left hand could unlatch the brass handle. Ah! Success! The door silently opened and she fell back, grasping the swinging door.
About to step out into what was indeed a corridor, she walked right into a man's chest, and was grabbed very carefully, to avoid injuring her arm. Lifting her up, the man brought her back to the bed and lay her down. Pulling the blankets out from under her, he covered her up again.
Smiling, he sat in the bedside chair. "Well, that was more activity than I expected from you at this point."
Thera dazed by her run in, focused on the speaker, smiling uncertainly. He had unusually dark grey eyes, a color she had not seen on anyone before. His very long dark brown hair lay on either side of his jaws, framing a friendly, concerned face with arched expressive eyebrows, a thin aristocratic nose and a warm smile. He wore a long dark blue robe, with tight sleeves and a little silver on the high collar and sleeve edges. He leaned over and placed his hand on her forehead. It was so nice and cool, she didn't want him to remove it. But after a moment he did and sat back.
Then she remembered why she had gotten out of bed: Thim! Where was he? She sat up with that thought almost making herself sick. But kind stranger or not, she had to see to Thim. Dizzily swinging her legs out the opposite side of the bed, she made to go around.
Bonk! She ran into that chest again, and the strong arms lifted her again. Tears of exhaustion filled her eyes and she struggled feebly saying "No, no, I have to go to Thim, he hasn't had any breakfast and he really needs some willow bark tea. And Lily needs grooming. I think her left rear shoe is loose."
"Mistress, all will be well. You need to rest some more. Thim is a very sick little boy-" He lay her back and covered her once more.
She waved away his comment, "That is why we have come from Bree looking for Rivendell. To see the elves, to cure his wasting sickness," she yawned and tears filled her eyes again. "My poor Thim, my poor Thim. We have to get you to the elves, I promised!" She covered her face with her left hand, crying in earnest now. "I promised! I did! I promised! And now I don't see him here, he is all I have---"
Elrond, for it was the Lord of Imladris at her side, concerned for her escalating distress, sat on the edge of the bed near her and carefully put his arms around her and rocked her softly. Whispering in her hair as he had when one of his children had had a bad dream, he said "Shhhhh, braveheart. Your Thim is just next door. You have reached Rivendell and all will be well. Shhhh. Sleep now." Her tears slowed and Thera let the rocking lull her back to sleep.
Sighing, Elrond lay her back with a frown. She had come all this way for her little one? Where did she come by the nasty knife wound? And what had happened to their horse Lily? The scouts had told him of their condition when found. Shaking his head slightly, Elrond left and went the short distance to Thim's room. Perhaps Thim would tell him who his mother was.
But standing at the still comatose boy's side, Elrond shook his head. He had not exaggerated Thim's condition. Inspecting a brazier near the bed that held some gently steaming water filled with pungent herbs to ease the boy's breathing, he checked the water level, adding a little. He then poured a small glass of cordial from a carafe on the bedside table. Lifting Thim's head he carefully tipped a little of the liquid down his throat and then massaged it gently to get him to swallow. He did that four times until Thim had drunk enough to satisfy him.
Thim was not just fighting congestion in his lungs, he had a 'wasting sickness' she said. No wonder the lad was as thin as he was. Mentally going through the many illnesses that could cause prolonged under nourishment, Elrond checked Thim's pulse. Satisfied for the moment, he lay the thin wrist down and went back to his study for a little research.
As he strolled thoughtfully back to the western side of the House and the large library there, his chief advisor Erestor stopped him.
"My lord, one of the Dunedain's fever has risen. And the little one, he... he is not happy about something and is crying quite strenuously."
Elrond laughed. "Erestor I should have taken your advice ages ago and built an actual infirmary here. I never expected to have so many patients at once."
Erestor smiled back and put a hand on his lord's arm. "I can try to calm the little one. He is not ill..."
"He wasn't when I examined him initially. Seems a perfectly healthy human two-year old. Perhaps he just needs a change. There is a pile of clean linen next to his bed. Go, see what you can do with little Aragorn and I shall attend to the Dunedain." He started to walk off and then turned, his eyebrows raised in question. "Which one is he?"
"Dashan, my lord. The one with the orc blade wound."
"Ah yes. My thanks, Erestor. Tonight at dinner, we'll discuss what to do with Aragorn."
Erestor bowed slightly and went to see to the toddler.
Later that night, all his patients needs addressed and sleeping as soundly as their various ills and Elvish medicine allowed them, Lord Elrond went into the temporary nursery just off his room. The room had previously been used by Celebrian as a solarium and more recently as a workroom where in his copious amounts of free time he indulged in a little silver work.
He bent over the small trundle bed where the toddler lay curled up, a thumb in his mouth. Erestor had done as he asked, cleaned and changed the toddler and helped get him fed. Elrond rubbed a hand across the baby's cheek, so very, very soft and brushed the tumbled dark curls off his forehead. He was a beautiful boy, wide grey eyes and a merry, gaped-tooth smile---ah, that explained the fractious behavior. Little Aragorn was teething! He made a mental note for tomorrow to make sure he had enough pain-killing tincture to rub on the boy's gums.
Sighing, he stared sightless at the sleeping boy. He was certainly the youngest hopeful to come here. How many Dunedain had he sheltered here in Imladris? How many of their lives had unraveled or ended abruptly, a withering of hope as Arathorn and Gilraen's lives had, ambushed by orcs? How many had lived lives of uncertainty and waiting? Would this little human be the one to turn hope into reality, to see the return of the king to Gondor and rule a united kingdom once again?
"Well, we shall see in time, won't we Aragorn? Sleep well little one!" He turned, and readying himself for bed, soon blew out the candles and lay down.
He had just reached the level of deep Elvish sleep, when a thin wail cut through his dreams and brought him straight up in his bed. What?
The thin wail got louder, and Elrond rushed to the solarium to find Argaorn standing up, clutching the edge of the trundle bed and crying as if his heart would break. Elrond carefully picked up the boy and lay him against one shoulder and began to rock him gently. It had been so long since he had held such a little one! The crying escalated and Elrond delved deep into his memory of when his own children were toddlers and began reciting the Lay of Beren and Luthien, weaving sleep into the telling. Aragorn hiccuped a few times and then put his thumb in his mouth, fretting around the finger. Elrond, smiling, made his voice softer and in a few minutes, Aragorn slept, his thumb sliding out of his mouth, a thin line of drool running down Elrond's sleeping tunic.
Laying the boy back down in his bed, he rubbed his back slowly for a few minutes to further relax the child.
"Well, that wasn't so hard!" Smiling, Elrond went back to bed and slept deeply.
But little Aragorn was not so easily consoled, and the elf lord was awakened twice more before the sun rose.
A bit bleary-eyed and reminded of his hectic days helping in the healer's tents during war, Elrond rubbed his face and stared down at the now sleeping Aragorn. "You certainly have a mind of your own, young one!"
The first thing Elrond did after a bath and breakfast was to make sure he had plenty of the teething tincture, and close to the trundle bed.
Adjusting his gray robes more comfortably, he went to see his other patients. A stop in the kitchens found someone more than willing to see to breakfast for Aragorn.
He went and checked on the two injured Dunedain who had been part of an escort group, along with Aragorn's parents, when they were attacked by orcs in the Wild. The survivors of the attack had raced to Rivendell with their precious charge, the next Dunadan, Aragorn. Dashan of the infected orc wound, was still sleeping but was not feverish. The other, Farlas, had a slash in his lower leg, but was up and eating breakfast. Content with their progress, he made his way to his more worrisome patients, Thera and Thim.
Thera had awoken with the sun. The room was filled with purple light slowly softening as the sun came over the eastern side of the mountains. She lay there again confused about where she was. Taking a deep breath, she sat up, and giving her a head a minute to settle it's whirling, and then shakily went to the door opposite her bed.
Her right arm still hung uselessly at her side but she had to get to Thim. Opening the door slowly, she looked up and down a stone corridor with beautiful blue and grey tile and a long runner of deep wool with old rose colored designs swirling through it. It was soft beneath her feet. Thim had to be nearby. Didn't the tall stranger say so? Didn't he tell her this was indeed Rivendell? She rubbed her forehead tiredly and leaned against the wall because her knees threatened to give way.
Taking a deep breath, she went to the next door and carefully pulled it open. She brought a hand to her mouth and leaned against the doorjamb. Thim lay in a bed much like hers, though the room had more gold in the rugs, the color of the wood and the cheerful bouquet of tiger lilies and yellow roses on the long table beneath the mullioned window like hers. His bedside table was covered with bowls and small bottles, like hers. But unlike her, he was still and pale.
Thera careened to Thim's side, banging her arm against the edge of the table. Ignoring the sharp pain, she picked up Thim's thin right hand and then kissed him on the forehead. His skin was warm but his breathing was raspy even though the air was full of fragrant herbs.
Thera awkwardly got up on the bed and hugged him with her good arm. Her bad arm she flung aside wincing as it banged on Thim's knee. Would it ever work again? She looked at it again as it lay on Thim's stomach, a thin line of blood now appearing through the linen. Thera's eyes filled with tears. Not about her arm, but because Thim was unresponsive.
She buried her face in the pillow next to Thim, her tears turning into sobs. Thim looked no better. Were the elves here? Could they save Thim? She shook him with her good arm. "Come on Thim, wake up, please! We are in Rivendell! We made it, though I am not sure how. Please! Don't leave me here alone. We have come so far. And look, it is a nice day outside." She shook him again. "Please Thim, wake up!"
The door opened slowly and the tall stranger from the day before appeared. Both eyebrows went up at Thera's presence. Lifting herself awkwardly, she looked accusingly at the elf. "Why isn't Thim better? Why won't he wake up?"
"As I've said mistress, he is very ill, and I'm not sure what is wrong with him." He sat in the chair at Thim's side. "Perhaps if you tell me how he got sick, I might be able to discover the illness."
Thera looked at her questioner and then sat back, her face draining of color. This must really be an elf! He didn't look terrifying or nasty and the room spoke of, well, for lack of a better word, civilized behavior.
Before answering his question she asked pointedly, just to make sure she had heard him right. "You are an elf? And this is Rivendell?"
"Yes, mistress. I am Elrond and this is my refuge of Imladris, Rivendell in the Common Tongue. And you are?"
"I am Thera, Thim's sister."
"Ah, his sister. I thought you were his mother. How old are you?"
"I am 18, almost 19. Our parents died last year. Are you a healer?"
"I am. Tell me of your brother's illness."
Satisfied with his answers, Thera leaned back, taking a moment to glance at her comatose brother, then looked up at Elrond. "It was late this Spring, after a great deal of rain. Thim didn't get wet or anything, the weather had actually been very warm, over a week of it. We were just out by Farmer Candle's farm, feeding the ducks in his pond and Thim and I were hunting polliwogs in the reeds. It felt really good to be splashing around in the water."
"Was the water warm?" Elrond was beginning to get an idea.
"Yes. And I remember how nice and squishy the mud was between my toes. Sad to say, the warm weather didn't last, and we got more rain. Thim caught a cold, and, and well, he just never got better."
"Did you get sick mistress?"
Thera thought about it and then shook her head. "No, no I wasn't sick. I don't get sick very often." Thera leaned over and kissed Thim's forehead, pausing to brush his hair off his forehead.
"Because he is sickly and tends towards colds and the like, everyone starts there. Most thought he had some kind of pneumonia. I went through all the doctors and healers in Bree. Even any I could discover that were just traveling through. None of them could determine what his illness was. Poor Thim, he got heartily sick of being poked, prodded, purged and bled."
Elrond winced at her litany. "I can assure you that none of that will be necessary." The elf lord stood and went around to Thera's side of the bed. Scooping her up he took he back to her room and set her down on her bed, moving pillows behind her back so she could sit up comfortably.
"I have a idea of what might be troubling your brother. I need to make a special cordial for him, though. In the meantime, would you like breakfast?"
"I am a little hungry."
"Fine. After breakfast, why don't you go sit with Thim? I think having you near him is a big help. Talk to him."
She nodded, feeling hopeful for the first time in months.
Smiling, Elrond left. Well, one problem solved. Now if her brother's illness would be just as easily fixed.
Aragorn was chewing on the edge of his tunic shirt and looked up with guileless eyes at the elf as he approached the trundle bed.
Elrond picked him up and adjusting him automatically on his left hip, he strolled out of his suite of rooms, headed for his study to finish his work on the cordial for Thim.
Once in the brightly lit room, Elrond set Aragorn down and continued to his stillroom, the entrance of which was just behind his desk. Aragorn wobbled a bit and tried to follow, but then plopped down, fascinated by the rug under his chubby feet.
Entering the cool stone room, Elrond thoughtfully fingered several bunches of drying herbs and inspected a few tightly lidded stone jars. Deciding on his choices, he sprinkled a few fingers full into a mortar. Just as he began to grind them, he heard a crash and a wail from Aragorn.
Rushing out, he saw the boy crying on the floor, a crumpled table runner, a broken vase and bedraggled roses strewn through ribbons of water. Picking up the unhappy child, Elrond looked him over carefully, but saw no injuries. Surveying the mess, he sighed. "I obviously need another pair of eyes and hands for you, my little Dunadan." Leaving the study with Aragorn, he started his search.
Thera sat next to Thim, telling him all about Rivendell and Elrond.
"Oh, Thim, everyone was right about the elves. They are not cruel and, they are actually quite beautiful, and tall! Very tall. I can't wait for you to meet them. And one of them IS a healer! His name is Elrond and he thinks he can cure you. We both have very nice rooms, but I would be happy with just one."
Even though Thim was still unconscious, he didn't fell hot, when she put a hand to his forehead. She got up and tentatively inspected and tasted the contents of the various bottles and cruets. "Ah, Thim, good old willow bark, but with a bit of something more." The next one tasted nasty and unrecognizable. Savoring the last one, she smiled, it tasted like very thick meat broth, with many flavors in it. She liked it so much, she tasted it again. "This must be what you have been eating these last few days. I wish I knew how to make it, this is just perfect for an invalid."
Looking at him again, her face fell, "Oh Thim, you just have to wake up." She settled herself comfortably next to him and started to sing.
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