Chapter Four: Signs of healing
Three days have passed when the girl began to show signs of waking up and looking a shade stronger than before.
It started from the little movements here and there, a slow fluttering of her eyelids as her brown eyes sought to re-focus on him. Estel tilted his head to the right so he could cover the gentle sunlight shining on the girl's face at that moment. A rustle of leaves from behind signaled the coming of a strong breeze, which shifted the leaves letting more sunlight into the room.
Soon, the branches settled to its former place permitting the thick leaves to cast again a shade back into the room. The boy continued to observe as the telltale signs of the girl's wakefulness began to surface.
He stared into her still glazed eyes and wondered what stories she might have, what places she had visited and more importantly of what lays beyond the protected realm of Imladris. A smile crept on his face while those thoughts played in his mind. It piqued his curiosity further and was looking forward in getting to know her. He leaned on the bed causing more movements to rouse the girl.
Estel has been keeping vigil since the day she was rescued. Unfortunately, the girl was still listless most of the time he was visiting her.
Often times, his father would come to the room and the elf lord would routinely check her bandages and her healing wounds. Fortunately, most of the bruises and gashes responded well to the medicine his father applied and only a few deep cuts need repeated attention now. The bruises on her arms and legs have left only a reddish imprint and Estel knew, another three more days with steady application of the herbal medicine, it will all be gone.
The girl moaned that previous day when the elf lord inspected her bandaged torso and chest but Estel knew as he watched his father, he could tell from his expression that the girl was out of danger and was recovering.
A servant would come to her room every day to bring a cup of broth to help her drink since she could not hold solid food yet and right after her every soup meal the girl would instantly fall asleep. No doubt, the soup was laced with a sleeping herbal concoction to hasten the girl's healing. Their guest remained in bed since the day she was taken into the House of Elrond for care.
However, today, he knew it was going to change. Estel now had a feeling of expectancy while watching their recuperating guest. Color has started to paint her normally pallid features and she seemed to be more reactive to the sounds she was hearing.
Her eyelids close again while a low moan followed when she shifted under the covers. Estel brow furrowed a little with concern. He tentatively placed his hand on the girl's forearm.
Anathea felt nauseous and her throat was dry. She didn't want to move. Every part of her body ached from numerous unseen injuries that she must have received from ... where? Her mind asked. Where am I? The question came filtering through her consciousness.
She wanted to open her eyes but she was afraid that the men have captured her and they have placed her in some dungeon to rot. But wait... She sniffed the air. This isn't the smell of a filthy dungeon. She thought. There was a scent of rosemary lingering in the room and she waited a little longer as her still reeling senses gave her more clues as to where she might be, right now. She settled deeply and listened to the chirping birds that were coming from her right. Birds! Yes, it was what she was hearing all right. She inhaled deeply when another breeze swept into the room. It also carried the bird melodies into the bedchamber. She lay motionless for a while savoring the calmness that reached out to her even with her eyes close, she felt it touched her.
Her mind told her that she was laying in a bed, wrapped with something smooth about her body-an eiderdown. Slowly, as if taking a chance, she opened her eyes and squinted at something. No, that wasn't right. Someone, someone was with her too. She told herself and blinked a couple of times as her eyes adjusted to the level of light coming into the airy chamber.
Estel could see her face go taut as she stiffly moved her head on the pillow.
When Anathea's vision came back to normal, a face of a boy filled her sight, standing in front of her. He was staring at her with curiosity.
The boy stood straighter. "Welcome back to the living." The boy greeted as he gave her a warm smile. He withdrew his hand that was on her arm. "How are you feeling?" He inquired.
Anathea didn't answer at once but continued to stare at him as if he was a dream. She glanced at the sheets that wrapped her little body and saw her own fingers wiggled on the softness of the blanket. The sheets were made of the smoothest material that she never felt before in her young life. It was far smoothest what her sister would make... She stopped. She swallowed the lump building inside her throat and sighed. She didn't want to cry so she held it down but her lips did quaver while stopping the tears from falling. She faced the boy again who was still holding that smile for her.
"What is it?" Tthe boy asked as he saw the bemused expression written on her face.
Anathea pushed herself up on the elbows and opened her mouth but a squeak came out. She swallowed and tried again to speak up.
"Water?" The girl asked in rasp voice.
"I'll get you a cup of water to drink," he offered and went to the pitcher of water set on the other bed table at the middle of the room. Anathea followed him with her eyes and was easily distracted by the things she found in the room. Ornate furniture was placed in essential portions inside the room. They looked very otherworldly and rare. Her gaze then traveled on the spirals that adorned the walls and archways. It seemed to be a dominant design in the room. Then something else caught her attention. Off to a small wall near where the archway opened to the veranda, she noticed a phoenix in form of a relief. It was crowned under intertwined wooden vines. The design looked unusual yet beautiful on its own. After a moment of staring at it, her eyes took hold of the bedchamber she was in again. She has not seen a room so beautifully made, ever in her life. Was she...dead? Is this the afterlife her father told her about? But, wait...the boy said; 'welcome back to the living.' she thought. Her musings were left alone as she continued to let her gaze roam around the airy chamber and could not help noticing a female statue so gracefully made standing at the head of her bed. Her arms spread out, it appeared to be watching over, beholding her. She sank back deeper in her pillows when her shoulders grew tired and a back pain made her lie down. Her eyes followed the graceful contours on the statue's face as the boy returned. He brought with him a cup filled with water just as he promised. She started to sit up.
At her bedside, Estel could see that the girl was having a difficult time sitting up on her own. He was also worried after hearing a groan escaped her lips that she appeared exhausted from the simple task of sitting up.
"Careful," he said and set aside the cup on the bedside table so that he could help her sit up. The pained expression on the girl's face disappeared and gratefully took the cup offered by the boy. The cool soothing liquid coursed through her dried throat. She also noticed for the first time that her lips had some sort of balm on them.
"I will go and get my father," the boy remarked and was about to leave her side when she stopped him.
"I'm not dead?" The tone was filled with sudden terror that made Estel pause in his steps.
"No, you are very much alive. Lord Elrond, my father healed you from your wounds. You don't need to be afraid," trying to ease the girl's fears.
"The men will not be coming here. Imladris is a protected area." He spoke with pride about his home.
"Im-la-dris?" The girl slowly worded out.
"That's right," the boy nodded. "Or Rivendell in the common tongue." He supplied. "I'll be back," he told her and left the room.
"I have never heard of this place," she muttered to no one as she gazed around the room again. She watched the tree standing near the veranda. The soft sunlight danced on the leaves still covered with dew. When the breeze rustled it again, the dew seemed to leap out from the leaves and twinkled for a short time, caught in the sunlight's path before disappearing in thin air. Her gaze returned to the other leaves, which were still moist with dew. She watched the leaves becoming like tiny pinpricks of light. Following the gentle swaying of the leaves started to lull her back to sleep. She nestled deeper in the soft pillows. Next, her eyes caught sight of a bird flying into the room. It perched itself on the chair near the bed and Anathea smiled as she stared at the tiny creature, watching back at her.
"You are not afraid," she observed. The bird started to chirp in singsong notes as if in answer to her that it was not. It tilted its little head regarding her.
"Was that a... no?" The girl asked and looked closely at the bird. To her, it looked like a thrush. However, she has seen so few of them and never thought there would be any living at this time.
The thrush chirped again and this time surprised her by flying nearer to her and landed in front of her. The bird bopped up and down the motion when it sat on her stomach.
Anathea giggled but later coughed when searing pains from her chest almost left her half conscious and was frightened from what she was experiencing. She stared at the ceiling, willing to make the pain that was still on her chest to disappear. Moments later, she looked at the bird. "I'm fine, I think." Her voice breaks in uncertainty. Another moment of silence passed before she spoke up. "I wish I can touch you, but my arms still hurt." She told her new-feathered friend.
The bird chirped the longest at her before flying away.
"Please don't go," she trailed, as the bird flew out of the chamber. "Come back." She called again, her voice this time was soft. However, the bird did not return.
A few more minutes passed before a knock sounded through the room. The girl turned to the direction of the door and was not prepared to see the approaching forms. She gasped.
Her first instinct was to cower deeper into her bed if it was possible but it was not the case. She hardly had enough strength even sit up as it is. Wriggling under the covers made her pant and another bout of pain erupted from within her body. She nearly cried out in pain though her eyes started to glisten. Elladan and Elrohir exchanged puzzled frowns on their faces as they walked into their guest's room. They could easily see the uncomfortable expression on the girl's face. Elrond too, noticed it yet he remained calm.
Estel, with his hand on his father seemed to be practically dragging the elf lord as he strode towards the bed.
Now it was Estel's turned to look puzzled when he caught the frightened expression of the girl.
"They are not going to harm you," he said in the start of his explanation. "This is my father Master Elrond and my brothers. Elladan and Elrohir." He introduced. "And I am Estel." He finally said and flops at the middle of the bed.
The girl flinches at the bounce from the boy's sudden movement shifted her again in her bed.
"Estel, be careful," Elrond admonishes upon seeing the pained expression of the girl.
The boy stared at his hands with a slight bow of the head. "I'm sorry. I will try not to be too rough." He looked slightly embarrassed at their guest.
The girl's eyes lighted from one face to another after the introduction. "Your father?" She softly asked though in a way as if she didn't believe him.
"That's right." Estel answered her and knew what she was going to say next.
"But you don't look like them," continuing in a soft tone unaware that the Elves have very sharp hearing.
"I am adopted." Estel said and was not offended by the comment. It was expected and retained his smile when he faced her again.
Elrond came to the side of her bed now and looked down at his young charge. Anathea stared at the ageless eyes that inquiringly gazed down at her. She let her gaze fell on the other Elves who were standing by the foot of her bed. Something from her childhood was slowly surfacing to her consciousness. It was story of some kind, and then she remembered.
"You are an elf," the girl said it more of a realization than a question.
"Yes, child, we are," answered the elf lord as he smiled. He could detect the girl's hesitation. "What is your name?"
"Anathea," she responded while she nervously playing at the sheets.
"And your parents?" He asked trying to continue the conversation.
"My father, Armalos and my mother, Molivnia." She finally supplied. She lowered her gaze and looked forlorn when another lump began to start.
"Don't cry anymore, Anathea. No one's going to harm you," Estel said hoping to ease her.
Elrond reached out to touch the girl on her forehead. They all waited for her to calm down and when she finally did, she asked. "How did I get here?"
"We traveled by horseback. My brother, Elrohir," Elladan started while gesturing to his brother, "heard a scream by the Ford of Bruinen. We all went to see what was going on when we saw you dangling from the tree branch."
"They were after me," Anathea recalled in a hushed tone. She was afraid that if she said it any louder, the men would assuredly know where she was. Elrond recognized the irrational fear in her voice that he continued stroking her head. The girl turned to look at him. It was as if the little child was trying to draw security from the elf lord. Elrond knew he would gladly give it to the girl.
"I...I fell over..." She abruptly stopped and looked away while her hands tightened into two small balls of fists. The bad memories churned inside her mind and she did not like it.
The twin brothers bobbed their heads in confirmation and looked very torn. "But with the skills of our father, you are on your way to healing." Elladan remarked as he clearly tried to sidestep the painful memory for the child.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Elrond gently asked. His voice was like a breeze capable of surrounding her very being, penetrating it until the depths of her soul that was hiding from the scrutiny. Yet, his gaze was not harsh or forceful. She wanted to follow him out from her hiding place. She wanted very much but something was holding her back.
Elrond was aware that if he could lead the girl out from her shell of distrust, by telling them what happened, it would help relieved the burden that he was sure has started burying itself into the child's soul. He knew by experience that human children have fragile constitution whether in body or in mind compared to an elfling.
"Do remember what happened to you?" Elrond asked while keeping his tone gentle and warm. His hand never ceased stroking the girl's head for the action always calmed the girl. Anathea nodded in assent as her brows furrowed as she recalled the things that happened.
"We were heading for Gondor since my father received news from his brother that he has work waiting for him at his own smith shop. My father has been a smithy all his life and wanted so much to learn the crafts of the great masters in the White City." Her tone changed, to one that was filled with new promises and her eyes glittered with excitement.
"When my uncle told him such news, it was something my father cannot pass up. So, he packed the family together. My older sister and younger brother went with us. We traveled with other the families heading for Rohan. Father decided that it was best to join them, than travel on our own when evil things roam on the lands." She related.
"A wise decision your father made." Elrond remarked.
Anathea paused and glanced at the elf lord as she slightly nodded and went on with her tale while they listened.
"It had been many nights were our travel was uninterrupted until that night." She looked away again and stared at the intricate wood relief design of a phoenix that adorned the opposite wall of the chamber.
"Father decided to give more rest on the horses and us, especially to Movlen, my brother. He was running a slight fever after having been thrown into the stream by the other boys in the traveling group we rode out with, the day before that. So, mother and father started to make camp while Movlen lay nearby. We were separated from the main group since they decided to press on without us." She related as her voice rose to a pitch higher as if it was a mark for the listeners that the horrifying incident was about to come.
"My sister decided to take a ride and I wanted to go along with her. So with expressed promises that we will return before dusk, our father relented. We have not been riding out long when from behind the trees, five riders came after us!"
Elrond, who had taken a sit on the chair beside the bed, felt Anathea's little hand tightened inside his own. The girl looked down when he gave her a reassuring squeeze.
"They chased us down hard, away from where we first came," Anathea continued her tale. Her breath starting to turn ragged. "Norleana, my sister," the girl furnished upon seeing Estel's inquiring look. "Decided that we would just back track to the camp when it was safe to return so we rode on. I don't know where we were going until we stumbled into a camp that lay ahead of us. We shortly stopped to call for help instead, we saw the tents slashed on both sides, bags strewn everywhere and we could not find any one inside. We stayed too long which proved to be wrong." Anathea stopped as her lower lip trembled.
"Do you want to stop?" Elrond asked, concerned in his voice when the girl paused.
The girl seemed to consider it but shook her head. She felt drawn to tell them her story.
"Something hit us. It was a while before I realized that a man jumped behind us. I do not know how he was able to do it." Her brow furrowed in puzzlement.
"I was thrown off from the horse. I heard shouts from the men. My sister...they took my sister but she did something...I no longer heard her after the shouts." Anathea's voice turned to quiet panic.
Elrond held her little hand and maintained a reassuring presence to the girl as he saw her eyes grow wild and glisten.
"I kept running because that's what she told me to do. I didn't look back either." She peered at the faces before her as the tears began to stream down her cheeks. Elrond began to wipe off the tears off the girl's face. Anathea searched the faces before her for confirmation of the dreaded thought that was haunting her mind. Hoping for a different answer from her kind hosts, she asked.
"Was my sister any where near...?" She let her question trail and stared at Elrond and his sons for their answers.
Elladan shook his head. "We found nothing, Anathea. But that does not mean, she is..." searching for a right word as not to stun the girl.
"Dead?" Anathea muttered looking very dejected, alone and vulnerable.
Estel flinched from where his sitting as he heard the word. He didn't expect he would react so strongly from it. He caught his father looking at him with concerned eyes. From behind, Elladan and Elrohir have already moved closer during the girl's story and have placed their hands on Estel's shoulders. The boy involuntarily let out a sigh. He knew what it was like to lose ones parents.
"I would not put it so directly," Elladan uncomfortably said.
The little girl deeply sighed as her tears fell again. "They are gone." She muttered repeatedly and a sob escaped as her turned sideways.
The elven brothers stood distraught but when their father motioned them to leave the chamber, they obeyed. It was enough for now, so Elladan and Elrohir led Estel out of the room. Elrohir glanced back as he saw his father trying to soothe the girl.
"Sleep now. May Elbereth Gilthoniel shine ever on your path as long as you live, Anathea." He kissed the girl on the forehead and stayed with her until all the sobs were gone and soon sleep completely overtaken her.
Three days have passed when the girl began to show signs of waking up and looking a shade stronger than before.
It started from the little movements here and there, a slow fluttering of her eyelids as her brown eyes sought to re-focus on him. Estel tilted his head to the right so he could cover the gentle sunlight shining on the girl's face at that moment. A rustle of leaves from behind signaled the coming of a strong breeze, which shifted the leaves letting more sunlight into the room.
Soon, the branches settled to its former place permitting the thick leaves to cast again a shade back into the room. The boy continued to observe as the telltale signs of the girl's wakefulness began to surface.
He stared into her still glazed eyes and wondered what stories she might have, what places she had visited and more importantly of what lays beyond the protected realm of Imladris. A smile crept on his face while those thoughts played in his mind. It piqued his curiosity further and was looking forward in getting to know her. He leaned on the bed causing more movements to rouse the girl.
Estel has been keeping vigil since the day she was rescued. Unfortunately, the girl was still listless most of the time he was visiting her.
Often times, his father would come to the room and the elf lord would routinely check her bandages and her healing wounds. Fortunately, most of the bruises and gashes responded well to the medicine his father applied and only a few deep cuts need repeated attention now. The bruises on her arms and legs have left only a reddish imprint and Estel knew, another three more days with steady application of the herbal medicine, it will all be gone.
The girl moaned that previous day when the elf lord inspected her bandaged torso and chest but Estel knew as he watched his father, he could tell from his expression that the girl was out of danger and was recovering.
A servant would come to her room every day to bring a cup of broth to help her drink since she could not hold solid food yet and right after her every soup meal the girl would instantly fall asleep. No doubt, the soup was laced with a sleeping herbal concoction to hasten the girl's healing. Their guest remained in bed since the day she was taken into the House of Elrond for care.
However, today, he knew it was going to change. Estel now had a feeling of expectancy while watching their recuperating guest. Color has started to paint her normally pallid features and she seemed to be more reactive to the sounds she was hearing.
Her eyelids close again while a low moan followed when she shifted under the covers. Estel brow furrowed a little with concern. He tentatively placed his hand on the girl's forearm.
Anathea felt nauseous and her throat was dry. She didn't want to move. Every part of her body ached from numerous unseen injuries that she must have received from ... where? Her mind asked. Where am I? The question came filtering through her consciousness.
She wanted to open her eyes but she was afraid that the men have captured her and they have placed her in some dungeon to rot. But wait... She sniffed the air. This isn't the smell of a filthy dungeon. She thought. There was a scent of rosemary lingering in the room and she waited a little longer as her still reeling senses gave her more clues as to where she might be, right now. She settled deeply and listened to the chirping birds that were coming from her right. Birds! Yes, it was what she was hearing all right. She inhaled deeply when another breeze swept into the room. It also carried the bird melodies into the bedchamber. She lay motionless for a while savoring the calmness that reached out to her even with her eyes close, she felt it touched her.
Her mind told her that she was laying in a bed, wrapped with something smooth about her body-an eiderdown. Slowly, as if taking a chance, she opened her eyes and squinted at something. No, that wasn't right. Someone, someone was with her too. She told herself and blinked a couple of times as her eyes adjusted to the level of light coming into the airy chamber.
Estel could see her face go taut as she stiffly moved her head on the pillow.
When Anathea's vision came back to normal, a face of a boy filled her sight, standing in front of her. He was staring at her with curiosity.
The boy stood straighter. "Welcome back to the living." The boy greeted as he gave her a warm smile. He withdrew his hand that was on her arm. "How are you feeling?" He inquired.
Anathea didn't answer at once but continued to stare at him as if he was a dream. She glanced at the sheets that wrapped her little body and saw her own fingers wiggled on the softness of the blanket. The sheets were made of the smoothest material that she never felt before in her young life. It was far smoothest what her sister would make... She stopped. She swallowed the lump building inside her throat and sighed. She didn't want to cry so she held it down but her lips did quaver while stopping the tears from falling. She faced the boy again who was still holding that smile for her.
"What is it?" Tthe boy asked as he saw the bemused expression written on her face.
Anathea pushed herself up on the elbows and opened her mouth but a squeak came out. She swallowed and tried again to speak up.
"Water?" The girl asked in rasp voice.
"I'll get you a cup of water to drink," he offered and went to the pitcher of water set on the other bed table at the middle of the room. Anathea followed him with her eyes and was easily distracted by the things she found in the room. Ornate furniture was placed in essential portions inside the room. They looked very otherworldly and rare. Her gaze then traveled on the spirals that adorned the walls and archways. It seemed to be a dominant design in the room. Then something else caught her attention. Off to a small wall near where the archway opened to the veranda, she noticed a phoenix in form of a relief. It was crowned under intertwined wooden vines. The design looked unusual yet beautiful on its own. After a moment of staring at it, her eyes took hold of the bedchamber she was in again. She has not seen a room so beautifully made, ever in her life. Was she...dead? Is this the afterlife her father told her about? But, wait...the boy said; 'welcome back to the living.' she thought. Her musings were left alone as she continued to let her gaze roam around the airy chamber and could not help noticing a female statue so gracefully made standing at the head of her bed. Her arms spread out, it appeared to be watching over, beholding her. She sank back deeper in her pillows when her shoulders grew tired and a back pain made her lie down. Her eyes followed the graceful contours on the statue's face as the boy returned. He brought with him a cup filled with water just as he promised. She started to sit up.
At her bedside, Estel could see that the girl was having a difficult time sitting up on her own. He was also worried after hearing a groan escaped her lips that she appeared exhausted from the simple task of sitting up.
"Careful," he said and set aside the cup on the bedside table so that he could help her sit up. The pained expression on the girl's face disappeared and gratefully took the cup offered by the boy. The cool soothing liquid coursed through her dried throat. She also noticed for the first time that her lips had some sort of balm on them.
"I will go and get my father," the boy remarked and was about to leave her side when she stopped him.
"I'm not dead?" The tone was filled with sudden terror that made Estel pause in his steps.
"No, you are very much alive. Lord Elrond, my father healed you from your wounds. You don't need to be afraid," trying to ease the girl's fears.
"The men will not be coming here. Imladris is a protected area." He spoke with pride about his home.
"Im-la-dris?" The girl slowly worded out.
"That's right," the boy nodded. "Or Rivendell in the common tongue." He supplied. "I'll be back," he told her and left the room.
"I have never heard of this place," she muttered to no one as she gazed around the room again. She watched the tree standing near the veranda. The soft sunlight danced on the leaves still covered with dew. When the breeze rustled it again, the dew seemed to leap out from the leaves and twinkled for a short time, caught in the sunlight's path before disappearing in thin air. Her gaze returned to the other leaves, which were still moist with dew. She watched the leaves becoming like tiny pinpricks of light. Following the gentle swaying of the leaves started to lull her back to sleep. She nestled deeper in the soft pillows. Next, her eyes caught sight of a bird flying into the room. It perched itself on the chair near the bed and Anathea smiled as she stared at the tiny creature, watching back at her.
"You are not afraid," she observed. The bird started to chirp in singsong notes as if in answer to her that it was not. It tilted its little head regarding her.
"Was that a... no?" The girl asked and looked closely at the bird. To her, it looked like a thrush. However, she has seen so few of them and never thought there would be any living at this time.
The thrush chirped again and this time surprised her by flying nearer to her and landed in front of her. The bird bopped up and down the motion when it sat on her stomach.
Anathea giggled but later coughed when searing pains from her chest almost left her half conscious and was frightened from what she was experiencing. She stared at the ceiling, willing to make the pain that was still on her chest to disappear. Moments later, she looked at the bird. "I'm fine, I think." Her voice breaks in uncertainty. Another moment of silence passed before she spoke up. "I wish I can touch you, but my arms still hurt." She told her new-feathered friend.
The bird chirped the longest at her before flying away.
"Please don't go," she trailed, as the bird flew out of the chamber. "Come back." She called again, her voice this time was soft. However, the bird did not return.
A few more minutes passed before a knock sounded through the room. The girl turned to the direction of the door and was not prepared to see the approaching forms. She gasped.
Her first instinct was to cower deeper into her bed if it was possible but it was not the case. She hardly had enough strength even sit up as it is. Wriggling under the covers made her pant and another bout of pain erupted from within her body. She nearly cried out in pain though her eyes started to glisten. Elladan and Elrohir exchanged puzzled frowns on their faces as they walked into their guest's room. They could easily see the uncomfortable expression on the girl's face. Elrond too, noticed it yet he remained calm.
Estel, with his hand on his father seemed to be practically dragging the elf lord as he strode towards the bed.
Now it was Estel's turned to look puzzled when he caught the frightened expression of the girl.
"They are not going to harm you," he said in the start of his explanation. "This is my father Master Elrond and my brothers. Elladan and Elrohir." He introduced. "And I am Estel." He finally said and flops at the middle of the bed.
The girl flinches at the bounce from the boy's sudden movement shifted her again in her bed.
"Estel, be careful," Elrond admonishes upon seeing the pained expression of the girl.
The boy stared at his hands with a slight bow of the head. "I'm sorry. I will try not to be too rough." He looked slightly embarrassed at their guest.
The girl's eyes lighted from one face to another after the introduction. "Your father?" She softly asked though in a way as if she didn't believe him.
"That's right." Estel answered her and knew what she was going to say next.
"But you don't look like them," continuing in a soft tone unaware that the Elves have very sharp hearing.
"I am adopted." Estel said and was not offended by the comment. It was expected and retained his smile when he faced her again.
Elrond came to the side of her bed now and looked down at his young charge. Anathea stared at the ageless eyes that inquiringly gazed down at her. She let her gaze fell on the other Elves who were standing by the foot of her bed. Something from her childhood was slowly surfacing to her consciousness. It was story of some kind, and then she remembered.
"You are an elf," the girl said it more of a realization than a question.
"Yes, child, we are," answered the elf lord as he smiled. He could detect the girl's hesitation. "What is your name?"
"Anathea," she responded while she nervously playing at the sheets.
"And your parents?" He asked trying to continue the conversation.
"My father, Armalos and my mother, Molivnia." She finally supplied. She lowered her gaze and looked forlorn when another lump began to start.
"Don't cry anymore, Anathea. No one's going to harm you," Estel said hoping to ease her.
Elrond reached out to touch the girl on her forehead. They all waited for her to calm down and when she finally did, she asked. "How did I get here?"
"We traveled by horseback. My brother, Elrohir," Elladan started while gesturing to his brother, "heard a scream by the Ford of Bruinen. We all went to see what was going on when we saw you dangling from the tree branch."
"They were after me," Anathea recalled in a hushed tone. She was afraid that if she said it any louder, the men would assuredly know where she was. Elrond recognized the irrational fear in her voice that he continued stroking her head. The girl turned to look at him. It was as if the little child was trying to draw security from the elf lord. Elrond knew he would gladly give it to the girl.
"I...I fell over..." She abruptly stopped and looked away while her hands tightened into two small balls of fists. The bad memories churned inside her mind and she did not like it.
The twin brothers bobbed their heads in confirmation and looked very torn. "But with the skills of our father, you are on your way to healing." Elladan remarked as he clearly tried to sidestep the painful memory for the child.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Elrond gently asked. His voice was like a breeze capable of surrounding her very being, penetrating it until the depths of her soul that was hiding from the scrutiny. Yet, his gaze was not harsh or forceful. She wanted to follow him out from her hiding place. She wanted very much but something was holding her back.
Elrond was aware that if he could lead the girl out from her shell of distrust, by telling them what happened, it would help relieved the burden that he was sure has started burying itself into the child's soul. He knew by experience that human children have fragile constitution whether in body or in mind compared to an elfling.
"Do remember what happened to you?" Elrond asked while keeping his tone gentle and warm. His hand never ceased stroking the girl's head for the action always calmed the girl. Anathea nodded in assent as her brows furrowed as she recalled the things that happened.
"We were heading for Gondor since my father received news from his brother that he has work waiting for him at his own smith shop. My father has been a smithy all his life and wanted so much to learn the crafts of the great masters in the White City." Her tone changed, to one that was filled with new promises and her eyes glittered with excitement.
"When my uncle told him such news, it was something my father cannot pass up. So, he packed the family together. My older sister and younger brother went with us. We traveled with other the families heading for Rohan. Father decided that it was best to join them, than travel on our own when evil things roam on the lands." She related.
"A wise decision your father made." Elrond remarked.
Anathea paused and glanced at the elf lord as she slightly nodded and went on with her tale while they listened.
"It had been many nights were our travel was uninterrupted until that night." She looked away again and stared at the intricate wood relief design of a phoenix that adorned the opposite wall of the chamber.
"Father decided to give more rest on the horses and us, especially to Movlen, my brother. He was running a slight fever after having been thrown into the stream by the other boys in the traveling group we rode out with, the day before that. So, mother and father started to make camp while Movlen lay nearby. We were separated from the main group since they decided to press on without us." She related as her voice rose to a pitch higher as if it was a mark for the listeners that the horrifying incident was about to come.
"My sister decided to take a ride and I wanted to go along with her. So with expressed promises that we will return before dusk, our father relented. We have not been riding out long when from behind the trees, five riders came after us!"
Elrond, who had taken a sit on the chair beside the bed, felt Anathea's little hand tightened inside his own. The girl looked down when he gave her a reassuring squeeze.
"They chased us down hard, away from where we first came," Anathea continued her tale. Her breath starting to turn ragged. "Norleana, my sister," the girl furnished upon seeing Estel's inquiring look. "Decided that we would just back track to the camp when it was safe to return so we rode on. I don't know where we were going until we stumbled into a camp that lay ahead of us. We shortly stopped to call for help instead, we saw the tents slashed on both sides, bags strewn everywhere and we could not find any one inside. We stayed too long which proved to be wrong." Anathea stopped as her lower lip trembled.
"Do you want to stop?" Elrond asked, concerned in his voice when the girl paused.
The girl seemed to consider it but shook her head. She felt drawn to tell them her story.
"Something hit us. It was a while before I realized that a man jumped behind us. I do not know how he was able to do it." Her brow furrowed in puzzlement.
"I was thrown off from the horse. I heard shouts from the men. My sister...they took my sister but she did something...I no longer heard her after the shouts." Anathea's voice turned to quiet panic.
Elrond held her little hand and maintained a reassuring presence to the girl as he saw her eyes grow wild and glisten.
"I kept running because that's what she told me to do. I didn't look back either." She peered at the faces before her as the tears began to stream down her cheeks. Elrond began to wipe off the tears off the girl's face. Anathea searched the faces before her for confirmation of the dreaded thought that was haunting her mind. Hoping for a different answer from her kind hosts, she asked.
"Was my sister any where near...?" She let her question trail and stared at Elrond and his sons for their answers.
Elladan shook his head. "We found nothing, Anathea. But that does not mean, she is..." searching for a right word as not to stun the girl.
"Dead?" Anathea muttered looking very dejected, alone and vulnerable.
Estel flinched from where his sitting as he heard the word. He didn't expect he would react so strongly from it. He caught his father looking at him with concerned eyes. From behind, Elladan and Elrohir have already moved closer during the girl's story and have placed their hands on Estel's shoulders. The boy involuntarily let out a sigh. He knew what it was like to lose ones parents.
"I would not put it so directly," Elladan uncomfortably said.
The little girl deeply sighed as her tears fell again. "They are gone." She muttered repeatedly and a sob escaped as her turned sideways.
The elven brothers stood distraught but when their father motioned them to leave the chamber, they obeyed. It was enough for now, so Elladan and Elrohir led Estel out of the room. Elrohir glanced back as he saw his father trying to soothe the girl.
"Sleep now. May Elbereth Gilthoniel shine ever on your path as long as you live, Anathea." He kissed the girl on the forehead and stayed with her until all the sobs were gone and soon sleep completely overtaken her.