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Chapter 17 - Just a Little Talan in the Woods
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"Orophin, help me."
Orophin grasped Haldir beneath his shoulders and careful of the spikes and other debris littering the bottom, anxiously lowered his brother down into the crumbling pit.
Giving his brother a nod, Haldir turned and stepped gingerly around the various piles of bone and desiccated animal carcasses scattered about the floor of the pit, while pressing the sleeve of his tunic over his nose and mouth, trying in vain to thin the sickly smell of death emanating from the dead adan.
His eyes roamed the still form from head to toe. The adan had been tall, as tall as Rúmil, but broader across the shoulders and chest. He did not appear to be one who could be taken down easily in a struggle. The March Warden's mind replayed the story given to them by the less than truthful feredir in the woods.
'There was a misunderstanding between Rúmil and my brother, Daris. They grappled and Rúmil stabbed him…'
'This must be Daris,' Haldir thought, and he cocked his head to the side, studying the body. The angle of the blade imbedded in the adan's midriff easily contradicted part of the feredir's story. The knife's position suggested it had been thrown, probably from above, not thrust forward during a struggle.
'Somehow during the struggle they stumbled.'
Haldir knew this was also a lie. The knife wound was clean. The adan was dead before the blade had entered his body. Since the wound supposedly took place before the fall, it would have bled profusely. Haldir strongly suspected that the man now lying at his feet might have been killed by the feredir and he wondered why.
'They both lay within an old bear pit but a league west of our camp…'
And that was only partially true; the adan was here but where was Rúmil? Haldir retrieved Rúmil's dagger and passed it to Orophin then turned away from the man, scanning the floor of the pit once more. His keen eyes spotted a few strands of long, silvery blonde hair, and snatching them up, Haldir slid them between his fingers, knowing the length and texture as Rúmil's.
Bending down, he examined the wooden spikes, pulling loose the small bits of Elven fabric caught on the blood-encrusted points. His gaze then shifted to look intently at the packed soil in which they were imbedded, the amount of dried blood pooled around the spikes giving him pause. If Rúmil had survived the fall, could he have survived losing that much blood?
"He was here, Orophin. Help me up."
Orophin reached out and held tightly to Haldir's hands, pulling him from the deadly abyss. Scattering the regrouping vultures, they staggered some distance away before collapsing to the ground, gasping for clean, fresh air. Haldir turned his head to look at Orophin.
"We are both fairly confident that he yet still lives?"
Meeting Haldir's gaze, Orophin nodded his head in agreement, and asked, "Where could he be, Haldir? Someone removed him from that Elbereth forsaken hole."
Haldir replied solemnly, "I wish I knew, for I fear that wherever he is, he is in need of aid."
After a few quiet moments, they rose and reluctantly approached the pit once more, again angering the resettling birds. The elves began throwing leaves, branches, dry grass, anything they could find that would burn, into the pit, and then backing away, they set it ablaze, burning everything within.
Watching the growing pyre, Haldir said, "When this done, we shall return to fill this fetid pit. It will kill no longer."
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The sensation of something cool against his too warm skin woke Rúmil from a restless sleep, and glancing around, he again found himself surrounded by children.
A small, blonde elfling was dabbing salve that smelled vaguely of athelas into his cracked lips, while the dark-haired elleth from before was rubbing the same salve into the raw welts on his wrists. Slowly, his eyes drifted upward to where a damp cloth was being pressed against his forehead.
A little squeak from Loarel made Mirrian look up from her task.
"What?"
Loarel whispered just a little louder, and both Mirrian and Aerien had to strain to hear her.
"I said… he… is… awake."
Mirrian looked down into the weary, blue eyes of the injured elf and smiled.
"So he is. Thank you, Loarel."
Turning her attention back to the elf laying on the pallet, Mirrian removed the cloth from his forehead and pressed her hand in its place, frowning as she did so.
"Are you thirsty? You should try to drink if you can."
Rúmil nodded his head slightly, relieved to find the movement not as painful as upon his first waking.
"Loarel, saes, switch places with me."
Mirrian moved behind Rúmil as Danelhir had done earlier and helped him to rise. Loarel filled a cup with fresh water and held it to his lips. He was able to drink another before he shook off an attempt at a third, and Mirrian lowered him back to the pallet.
Rúmil closed his eyes as the world began to spin around him and then opened them once more only to see three anxious faces hovering above him, studying him intently.
"We thought you fell asleep again. 'Tis hard to tell when your eyes are closed."
Rúmil looked fixedly at the little, blonde elfling sitting beside him. She looked like a Lòrien elf, with white-blonde hair and silvery-blue eyes. It made him wonder if he was indeed home and if he was, where were his brothers? He swallowed painfully, trying to clear his throat before he spoke.
"Am I… home?"
The little elfling scrunched up her face in thought.
"Well, you are in our home."
"Nay… Lòrien… am I in Lòrien?"
"You are not in Lòrien, but we are waiting for them to come," and then the little elfling reached for the cup, and asked, "Would you like some more water?"
Rúmil shook his head, and said, "Waiting? Waiting for…?"
"Rúmil, you are again awake." Danelhir had returned with yet another young adan at his side. He leaned down and scooped up the tiny elfling Rúmil had been speaking to and began to tickle her gently.
Rúmil watched as he handed the giggling little blonde over to the dark-haired elleth. Danelhir then crouched down beside him, wrapping an arm around the slightly reluctant boy huddled at his side, pulling him closer. This child looked like a male version of Loarel, and he appeared to be very uncomfortable being this close to him.
"Mirrian, will you take Aerien and Loarel and see what you can do with the food that we formidable warriors were able to gather? Eli and I will see to Rúmil's other injuries while you are gone."
Then turning back to Rúmil, he smiled, and said, "I also found something for your fever."
Aerien gave Rúmil a wave goodbye from over elleth's shoulder as Mirrian shuffled the little maidens out of the talan. Rúmil turned his attention back to Danelhir, watching as he crushed some herbs in his hands and then drop them into a roughly hewn wooden mug, adding steaming water to make a tea. Danelhir again supported him while the still nervous adan helped him to drink.
"Eli and I must change your bandages and clean the wounds. We will try not to hurt you."
Rúmil's pale cheeks pinked brightly as the blanket was lifted. Noticing his discomfort, Danelhir said, "You were pierced cruelly. We had to remove your clothing so that we could properly tend your injuries. 'Twas Eli and I who did so."
Danelhir was careful to move the blanket aside just enough to expose Rúmil's side and continued speaking as he began removing the bandages.
"You were pierced through your left side and right thigh. The spikes also grazed your calves and ribs, but your body is strong. I can think of no other that would have survived your ordeal."
Rúmil watched as the shy, little adan silently handed the older elfling what he needed as he cleaned the wound in his side. Danelhir then repeated the same steps with his thigh before turning his attention to the other scrapes and bruises that covered his body. He tenderly rubbed salve into his bruised ribs and hips and then handed the jar to the small boy before taking up a damp cloth to clean the smaller wounds.
"Your right shoulder was dislocated, and Mirrian and Eli aided me in putting it back into place shortly after we brought you here; you must try not to move it." Then he leaned over and removed a thick bandage from Rúmil's shoulder, and said, "There is also a… wound on your shoulder that has become badly infected."
Rúmil looked away from Danelhir's knowing gaze and back to the little adan. His recollection of all that had happened to him was still hazy but the throbbing pain from bite wound on his shoulder pulled that particular memory forward with vivid clarity. Danelhir followed his gaze to Eli and sighed, understanding his desire not to speak further of the injury.
"Eli, rub some salve into the bruises on Rúmil's knees and ankles while I tend to these scratches."
Eli's eyes widened, darting back and forth between the jar in his hand and the bruises in question. Rúmil continued to watch him as he dipped his fingers into the jar and then lifted them out to stare at the fragrant goop that covered his fingers. He seemed fearful and Rúmil was not sure why.
"'Tis all right, Eli; you will not hurt him."
Eli let out a breath, letting his fingers hover for a few moments before gingerly rubbing the salve into the bruised skin. Danelhir smiled and nodded in approval then turned to complete his task. When Eli had finished, Danelhir leaned over and looked into the eyes of the warrior.
"Rúmil, I need to shift you onto your side so that I can see to the wounds on your back. It will be painful."
Rúmil nodded in understanding but was not as prepared as he hoped when the pain hit. He bit his bottom lip, splitting the tender, healing skin, as Danelhir began to roll him, and he cried out softly as his hip, thigh, and shoulder were pressed into the pallet.
The young boy jumped, startled by the sound, and looked down at Rúmil with large, green eyes. He desperately wanted to comfort the elf, but he was not sure if elf wanted comfort from him. Rúmil squeezed his eyes shut tightly as Danelhir tended the large wounds. Eli noticed the blood welling up on his lip, and tears began to slip from his eyes when the elf moaned, obviously struggling to stay quiet.
However, when he heard the elf suck in a hitched sob, he could not stand it any longer and sat down facing Rúmil. His eyes full of concern, Eli gazed deeply into the paling face of the elf and tentatively reached out to grasp the larger, trembling hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Danelhir worked as quickly as he could and then slowly moved the elf onto his back once more, rechecking the bandages to make sure that they were still in place. A shimmering, blue gaze met his and he leaned over to push the long, golden hair back behind Rúmil's ears.
"You should rest now," he said softly.
Danelhir tucked in the blankets and then placed a hand on Rúmil's forehead.
"Your fever has lessened, that is good," and looking at his brother, the corners of Danelhir's mouth twitched upward. Eli was still holding onto the elf's hand tightly.
"I believe my brother would like to stay with you for awhile, if that is acceptable to you?"
Rúmil felt the small, warm hands wrapped around his, and turned his gaze to the small child who was watching over him protectively and nodded his head.
These children had to be the most perplexing creatures he had ever met. They referred to themselves as siblings, yet they obviously were not. They seemed to know who he was, but he could not remember ever meeting them. And where were their parents? His curiosity wanted to voice these questions and more, but he was just too tired and instead willingly gave in to the call of sleep.
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~* To Be Continued *~
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