Author's Note: Well here is my fourth chapter. Thank you all so much for reviewing! They have greatly encouraged me to continue this story. Thanks again! I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's work.
Chapter 4 The Healers' Flet
She was floating, floating away in some deep dark abyss. She felt almost peaceful in this quiet state of being. I could stay here forever, thought the elf, no pain, no fear, just rest and calmness. Mithuial was not aware of her surroundings, she was not aware that the March Warden himself had rushed her in his own arms to the healers' flet. The elleth was also not aware of the poison that had infected her body, rushing through her bloodstream, tangling her veins along with it. The healers had at first suspected it just to be a mere wound from the arrow. They inspected the injury with the greatest of care, until they found a trail of black liquid that was discharging from it slowly. The foul creatures had painted the tips of their weapons with this toxin, hoping to cause great sickness to the recipient of the blow. And now that evil had befallen the young Captain, as she lay still and stiff, her breathing labored. Suddenly, convulsions shook the maiden. Her body jerked and twitched violently in her fit. Moans escaped from her lips and she cried in anguish. Then, the substance began to have an ill effect on her stomach. The elleth retched up dark blood, feeling fire burn her throat as she did so. One of the young healers ran to the doorway, calling for assistance. Elves rushed to and fro, each bearing a jar or container of some sort of medicinal herb. One more knowledgeable healer pushed her way through the crowd trying to hold Mithuial still, in fear that she would harm herself during the seizure. The elf managed to force open the younger one's mouth, but kept her fingers clear, so that they would not accidentally be bitten as she convulsed. She then poured a thick green liquid down the sick elf's throat, holding her nose and forcing her to shallow. The March Warden shuddered and finally became still. Mithuial sank back into darkness, the piercing white light of pain leaving her as quickly as it had come on. The healers muttered softly under their breath and made clicking noises with their tongues, as they began to attend to her wound and hope for the best.
Haldir had made great haste to the healers' flet, wiping off Mithuial's comment as pure delusion ranting and arriving in a matter of minutes. The healers had seen to her at once, for a poisoned wound was no less dangerous to an elf, even with their natural healing powers. They bid the March Warden to stay, wanting a messenger available if need be. Haldir was just about to respond that he was no young guard member, but the commander, when they slammed the door in his face. He sighed, knowing that the healers would become much immersed in their work shortly and that an argument of any kind would be futile. And so the Captain could do nothing but sit himself down in one of the stiff wooden chairs that bordered the small outer room to wait for their summons, if it ever came. Time passed by slowly and his mind began to wander. He should be out in the forest, seeing to the aftermaths of the attack. No doubt that the Lord and Lady would want an audience with him. They always requested his and Mithuial's presence when a surprise assault fell upon the Golden Wood. Those meetings were never pleasant, his counterpart would always try to pin the blame on him and because he was male, he normally was the scapegoat. Why he even tolerated such immaturity from the maiden baffled him. For he was Haldir, the proud and brave March Warden, Lorien's most prized warrior, he did not deserve to be pushed around by a young elleth! But then, as he mulled these thoughts over in his already troubled mind, shouts and cries for assistance came from the room near to him. The door was suddenly thrown open and out rushed a white faced healer, calling for the others.
"What is going on?" Haldir questioned, his instinct as a commander taking over, wanting to know the depth of the situation.
"The Captain has gone into convulsions," the healer managed to stutter as others ran down the hall and into the room. The door was slammed shut once more, leaving Haldir in silence.
"Poor Mithuial," he muttered to himself, "I do hope that she makes it through this. I may hate her, but not enough to see her dead or in harm's way." His thoughts then turned over to what she had before falling into unconsciousness. She had said that she loved him. Was that true? No, no it was preposterous. She did not love him. She had to be completely swept up in delirium, not understanding a word that she was saying. He tried to brush it off, excusing it in any manner possible. But still an uncomfortable weight remained on his chest. He rubbed his temples vigorously, trying to ward off the headache that threatened to overcome him.
The healers stooped over the now still body of the maiden. One of them held a silver scalpel, engraved with flowers in the elven fashion. She dug into the wound near the shoulder, removing any of the splinters of wood that had lodged themselves in her flesh from the shaft of the arrow. Several were removed before they could begin to treat the poison within her blood. Orc toxins were effective and if an elf was in the wild with no medicinal treatment available, he or she could suffer from it and die in a matter of days. But with the proper herbs and mixtures, the substance could be countered before it had traveled too far into the said elf's system. After administering some more anti-toxins to her they then bandaged the wound and moved Mithuial into one of the spare rooms set aside for seriously injured patients that needed to be watched closely. It would take a few weeks for her to be completely rehabilitated and able to return to her duty. In the meantime, she must stay in the infirmary on bed rest. The healers had had many unfortunate experiences with the young elf before and as they moved out to speak to Haldir, they all said silent prayers to the Valar that this time would be different.