Chapter Three: Sky and Light

"When I woke up, the fading light was shining through the window, and I could hear the quiet calls of the birds outside. 'Ah, he's finally awake,' said a voice from across the room.

"I looked up. 'Grandmother!'

"'Hello, Sméagol.'

"She looked better than she had in weeks, though she was still weary and had to be propped up with the pillows. The over-deep blush had left her cheeks, and here eyes had lost some of their fever brightness.

"Déagol was sitting in the corner nead her bed, smoking. 'Good evening,' he said.

"Evening! How long have I been asleep?'

"'Three days. Give or take a few hours.'

"I gaped, amazed. 'Three days!'

"'Yes. You slept very soundly.'

"Déagol, I learned, had been using a combination of kingsfoil and other herbs to heal my grandmother. Though she still had a fever, it had gone down four degrees, and she had been coherent for the past ten hours or so.

"'Your mother told me about how hard you've been working, Sméagol,' she said. 'Come over here and give your grandmother a kiss.' I did, and she smiled. 'Both of you have been busy. Poor Déagol hasn't even had a chance to be shown around yet.'

"'I can to that,' I said, taking the hint.

"'Go right ahead,' she said. 'I'm going back to sleep.'

"We shut the door quietly behind us as we left.

"'Was it really three days?' I asked Déagol once we were outside her room.

"He smiled. 'You sound so surprised. Yes, it was. After all, you have been working almost nonstop for the past fortnight.'

"A few of my young cousins ran up to us from another corridor. 'How is she?' they asked, breathless.

"'Recovering and much better,' I said. Relieved, the ran on, their worries shed and their minds now turned to childhood carelessness.

"'Your grandmother is quite an alert person,' said Déagol. 'When my grandfather was her age, his mind was that of a small child.'

"Unsure of what to say to that, I led him down the next hallway. 'This is the wine cellar,' I said. 'My grandmother will probably want to visit here as soon as she's well.' He smiled.

"'How did you learn so much about healing?' I asked him as we continued down the corridor.

''I have a cousin who lives across the river from Lothlórien,' he said. 'A Fallohide. He's friendly with the Elves there, and I learned from them on my visits.'

"'Elves!' I exclaimed. I was very excited. 'I have heard much about them, but never seen one. Is it true that the people of Lothlórien are among the most beautiful creatures in Middle-earth?'

"'This I cannot say,' said Déagol, 'for I have never traveled much. But yes, they are fair and light. Their eyes are the color of the mid-morning sky and their hair is like moonlight shining on corn silk.'

"We had reached the end of the corridor, and I led him outside. The sun was setting over the river, and I could hear muted voices from the other side of the bank. We sat down under a tree, upon one of its wide roots.

"'I wish I had traveled,' I said looking out at the smoldering ball of fire on the horizon. 'I've never been more than eight miles away from the smial.'

"'What would you do if you did travel?" he asked.

"The answer sprang to my lips immediately. 'Explore the waters,' I said. 'I would take a boat and travel on the rivers until I reached the sea.'

"'And what then?'

"'I don't know,' I said.

"We sat under the tree in silence until the sun was gone and darkness forced us out of our thoughts and back to the murmur and glowing light of the smial."