Chapter 8: Now Lay Me Down, My Soul To Keep
The stars were dim that night.
Instead of letting their soft light blend and weave between the moons own, they simply hung in the black inky sky like tiny crystals that had faded after millennia of use.
Two set of eyes watched the moons progress across the sky, waiting with an almost baited breath for anything, or everything to happen.
A cat and an anxious father saw the sky deepen in colour as light drifted across the world, leaving a black veil in it's wake, neither elf nor cat offered each other consolation as they were busy offering their own comfort to the child nestled safely in his fathers arms
Many hours had passed and Thranduil laid on the feather mattress, his beloved son cradled protectively in his arms. Whenever Legolas had startled awake, of dreams that had orc faces leering and of wolves singing, Thranduil would sooth the youngster to sleep again by singing simple lullaby's or talking softly into an attentive pointed ear.
"Ada," came Legolas's soft voice, three hours until the world of Middle- earth awoke with the sun. "I'm thirsty, may I have a drink of water?"
Seeing that his sons lips were dry and cracked, the king slipped off the bed and walked over to where the jug of water was kept besides the door, for easy access. Finding a clean, wooden polished cup, Thranduil's mind came to thinking.
Athelas could be used or combined in teas for stomach relief and calming those in sever stress, but no healer had ever thought to bring other healing plants into use when brewing Athelas, thinking the naturally powerful plant could cancel the other herbs power out.
Shrugging, Thranduil quickly went over his healing training that he had learnt at the Last Alliance that came in handy, especially when it was the dead of night and no healer was to be found. Knowing and remembering which plants did what, Thranduil carefully set to work and busily started creating a tea that would most likely taste foul, but could and would aid in the body's own healing of internal injuries. If he mixed it correctly, that is.
After crushing the plants into a past, the king then mixed a carefully measured dose of the green texture into the cup. Thranduil added chamomile for a more pleasant taste and peppermint for the nausea that his son was suffering. He added it to the boiling water, when enough was measured he carefully removed the plant material and walked to his sons bedside.
Legolas had dozed off, due to the potions and drug-induced tonics given to him a few hours before. His eyes were closed. Showing he was running out of time to save him.
Thranduil set the cup down and then carefully raised Legolas to a sitting position. Sliding in behind him, he propped him against his body, woke the young prince, and helped him to find the edge of the cup.
The young elf grimaced at the taste at first, but after a few sips, the drink seemed to warm his body in ways that blankets and fires had failed to do in the past hours of the day. Cup empty, Legolas leaned against his fathers body and relaxed with a deep contented sigh, feeling like he wasn't frighting with a unknown being that wanted his soul.
Keeping his eyes open, Legolas watched the dim stars brighten for the last few hours before they winked themselves to sleep.
Like many youngsters do when they fall asleep, Legolas snuggled deeper into his fathers embrace and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his mind slipped into dreams that were almost like relief.
~*~
Startled awake, Thranduil looked around for what had forced him from the light doze he'd slipped into for, what he thought was, a few minutes. Looking around for the reason, the king looked down and found his son all snuggled up and contently sucking his thumb.
Not bothering to pull the offending digit out of the child's mouth, Thranduil placed a cool palm against his sons forehead and was relieved to find no sign of a fever that had begun the night before.
Gently slipping from his child's embrace, Thranduil stretched and was satisfied when he heard several cracks along his spine, releasing tension and potential cramping for later that day.
Sensing that Legolas would be safe for at least a few minutes, Thranduil walked out of his child's room to see if he could find the healer at the breakfast table. He breathed in, feeling a wave of . . . oh how to describe the feeling . . . like peace calming the panic in his chest that wanted to either leap out of his throat or squeeze his lungs tightly. But now there was a quiet emptiness that wasn't in any way disturbing or quickly forgotten.
When Thranduil walked into the hall he noticed that some of the servants eyes refused to meet his, guessing that he had come out to tell that the youngest of the Thranduilian's had passed on. However when Taurereg looked over and noticed that it wasn't grief that was coming from the king, but a certain pride . . . and knowing? Sighing, Taurereg let a small smile come to his lips.
Putting his own food down, the healer walked over to Thranduil and waited for the answer. The king just looked at the healer not letting anything slip.
"Taurereg," Thranduil asked with the air of a confident warrior, "is it not said that mercy is granted to those who need it most, but do not ask of it?"
"Show me, Thranduil, do not give me riddles to solve on patients."
Putting his plate of food down, Thranduil led the sceptical healer to the room of the young prince, who was currently resting peacefully, curled up under his blankets, comforter and thumb in their rightful places.
Hating to wake the clearly tired child, Taurereg gently went over the princelings vitals, finding that his fever was still there, but only slight and that his breathing was steadily getting better, eve if he had a slight cold and raspy breathing, but the blood had stopped, so he was in no immediate danger.
"I wish some of my other critical patients would suffer this type of ailment." The healer muttered under his breath, but the king heard it loud and clear.
"And what medical ailment do you call this?" Thranduil replied, his blue eyes shining and a smile on his face much to the quiet annoyance of the healer.
"A miracle." Taurereg answered, gathering his left-over supplies of herbs and medical equipment, noticing the cup, he picked it up and took a whiff of the contents. A small smile lit his confused features. "Athelas, peppermint, chamomile, basil. I see that you gambled, as you did on the battlefield."
"What doesn't kill him will make him healthier." Thranduil answered.
"Well, it doesn't seem to have any unwanted effects, it's made him slightly quieter, too. Though his knee is still bruised, his hand is healing nicely." Taurereg sighed, rubbing his eyes, feeling the weight of that past few days slip from him. "I should see how Neldëá is doing, she was quite upset at Legolas's condition."
"She will make a fine healer one day," Thranduil comforted, "from what I've heard, she knew what she was doing and was level -headed, as well as a fine fighter."
"I would prefer her to be a healer," Taurereg laughed slightly, "whenever a battle, no matter how small, she has to be there for the cause."
"I know the feeling," was the kings reply.
~*~
It had now been two days since the rescue of the prince, and while he still was suffering from a runny nose and easily chilled, he was again his elfling self, a little quieter than normal but that was to be expected.
Marilla hadn't left the princes side since the day that he'd been brought in deathly ill barely able to comprehend what was happening to him, the white cat simply had to coaxed by the elfling to eat and take care of herself, which seemed to distract Legolas most of the time.
To keep himself sure that his younger brother was safe and happy Lúrin would spend a few hours, telling his young brother tales of the other creatures that lived in the forest of Mirkwood and other beings that roamed Middle-earth.
The race of men seemed to capture his interest the most, and Lúrin would spend hours describing how they were different that elves and why the weren't immortal and did he know any, and that Legolas was going to one day find one and be best friends with them.
"I can see that happening!" laughed his brother. "Next you'll telling me that a Dwarf will befriend you."
"It could be possible." Legolas replied quietly. "A wolf saved me, did it not?"
"I suppose," murmured Lúrin in thought.
"Lúrin, do you know what happened to Lanthur?"
Relaxing more into his brothers bed, Lúrin thought about it. "Well, I suppose he'll go back to his family, where he'll most likely become an alpha male, he'll have lots of cubs and be one of the best leaders that his clan has ever had."
Legolas was quiet for a while and his brother started to worry at the sudden change. "What's wrong?"
Legolas took a deep shaky breath. "At . . . the cave. I saw . . . signs of, heaps of paws that were being dragged away." He looked up at his brother, teary-eyed. "They murdered his whole family Lúrin, he has no one to care for him, Lanthur's alone."
With a sigh, Lúrin knew what he had to do. "How about I find him a new home?"
Shaking his head in earnest, Legolas grabbed onto his brothers arm. "We must bring him back!! The orcs will hunt him and kill him, he has been in the company of elves!!"
Lúrin was completely confused as to what his brother was talking about. "What are you talking about?"
"We've tainted him!!" Legolas cried. "His kind won't take him in and he'll be hunted by orc's, all because I've named him and he's placed his trust in me!"
"Calm yourself, Legolas, please." Lúrin soothed holding his brother by his shoulders. "He's an animal that has survived in this harsh forest, if he can survive here, he will be alright."
At these words Legolas burst into tears. "No, he won't." He sobbed harder and Lúrin embraced his young sibling.
"I'll make sure that he is, if not than I'll coax him back. But Legolas," Lúrin stated firmly, "being tied up for his lifetime is not worth it. He'd rather die than be isolated, alone and left on a rope."
Sniffing, Legolas wiped his eyes dry and nodded. "But he won't hurt anyone, he could live in the stables with Ruby."
Lúrin had to laugh at the thought of a stable boy (or his father) going to saddle up the roan horse only to find a male wolf with the horse. The look on their face would be enough. "I doubt that they'd agree to that." His brother smiled weakly. "It could be a new dog."
~*~
The next day Lúrin had returned with a wolf at his heels, a look of confusion and worry within it's canine features. Many of the elves that spotted Lúrin with the wolf, gave their crowned prince strange looks but were given no explanation of why a predatory creature was allowed within the borders or why it was heading towards the palace.
His senses on the wolf the whole time, Lúrin didn't fully trust the shaggy beast, especially when it was being brought to his injured brothers side. However, he did relax a little when it spotted the resting elfling and seemed to sigh in deeply and happily at finding the elfling alive and well.
"Lúrin!!" cried Legolas happily. "You found Lanthur!!! You rescued him!!!"
Smiling at his brothers joy, Lúrin allowed the wolf closer. Lanthur didn't jump on the bed but proceeded to sniff the elfling with enthusiasm and when satisfied, he gave a sigh through his mouth that held a grin.
The two simply stared at one another for what seemed hours until Legolas broke away and looked at his brother.
"He says thankyou and you're welcomed." Legolas spoke, although he sounded a little confused, "he also says that he was honoured to help and in his payment will help live off the rodents that are living off of our own food."
Lanthur gave a short bark to say that he meant it.
"And that he is thankful that you let him near our home."
"He's welcomed." Lúrin replied, bowing slightly to the wolf, who wagged his tail in return. With a last adoring glance at the child he'd helped rescue, Lanthur whined and then bounded off, where they could hear him pounding away and howling to the morning.
"Lúrin, what was he thanking you for?" Legolas asked confused.
Lúrin sighed, but his face was bright with a smile. "Well, on my way to finding him, accidentally came upon another wolf, turns out it was Lanthur's mate, and so now we have a new clan living close by."
"So, we'll be hearing them sing?" Legolas exclaimed in happiness.
"As long as they don't come too close and don't injure any of our livestock." Lúrin replied, settling himself in a comfy chair. He set his weapons aside and stretched out, hearing various joints pop in a most satisfying way. "I was hard to convince him to leave his mate though, I had to coax him."
Legolas's brow furrowed as he thought this over. "You were going to feed him Marilla, weren't you?"
Lúrin couldn't help but laugh at this.
***** AN: I'd like to make an apology to some misinformation that's in this. Twice I've written that the elf Táralóm is a healer and has a daughter. It is in FACT Taurereg who's the father of Neldëá. Táralóm is just one of the guards (one that I don't particularly like) and has no children of his own.
Also I apologise that I've been really long in updating but a few things that have happened has prevented me from doing so earlier.
The main reasons was because of the Sydney Royal Easter Show, where I won three 2nds (Dairy Goat Handlers, Best Presented and Angora Handlers) and won Champion at Alpaca Junior Judging. So that took up about two weeks or more.
And then there's the death of my rat Marco. Now I know many people think that a rat is vermin and scum of the earth, but if you met my Marco, you'd throw those comments away. He's been dead for only three weeks and I still miss my little buddy terribly, he's not in pain anymore (he died of cancer three weeks this Wednesday).
So this is dedicated to the little rat with a big heart who gave me a reason to live and brought joy to my life for three years.
****
Marco "Mr Rat" Drayton
10 March 2001 to 6 April 2004
You taught me that the true meaning to life was to have quarter of a choc- chip cookie, a medicine cup full of tea and someone to snuggle up against and crash out on every night . . . and to pine when they left for any amount of time.
I'll miss you, little man.
***
The stars were dim that night.
Instead of letting their soft light blend and weave between the moons own, they simply hung in the black inky sky like tiny crystals that had faded after millennia of use.
Two set of eyes watched the moons progress across the sky, waiting with an almost baited breath for anything, or everything to happen.
A cat and an anxious father saw the sky deepen in colour as light drifted across the world, leaving a black veil in it's wake, neither elf nor cat offered each other consolation as they were busy offering their own comfort to the child nestled safely in his fathers arms
Many hours had passed and Thranduil laid on the feather mattress, his beloved son cradled protectively in his arms. Whenever Legolas had startled awake, of dreams that had orc faces leering and of wolves singing, Thranduil would sooth the youngster to sleep again by singing simple lullaby's or talking softly into an attentive pointed ear.
"Ada," came Legolas's soft voice, three hours until the world of Middle- earth awoke with the sun. "I'm thirsty, may I have a drink of water?"
Seeing that his sons lips were dry and cracked, the king slipped off the bed and walked over to where the jug of water was kept besides the door, for easy access. Finding a clean, wooden polished cup, Thranduil's mind came to thinking.
Athelas could be used or combined in teas for stomach relief and calming those in sever stress, but no healer had ever thought to bring other healing plants into use when brewing Athelas, thinking the naturally powerful plant could cancel the other herbs power out.
Shrugging, Thranduil quickly went over his healing training that he had learnt at the Last Alliance that came in handy, especially when it was the dead of night and no healer was to be found. Knowing and remembering which plants did what, Thranduil carefully set to work and busily started creating a tea that would most likely taste foul, but could and would aid in the body's own healing of internal injuries. If he mixed it correctly, that is.
After crushing the plants into a past, the king then mixed a carefully measured dose of the green texture into the cup. Thranduil added chamomile for a more pleasant taste and peppermint for the nausea that his son was suffering. He added it to the boiling water, when enough was measured he carefully removed the plant material and walked to his sons bedside.
Legolas had dozed off, due to the potions and drug-induced tonics given to him a few hours before. His eyes were closed. Showing he was running out of time to save him.
Thranduil set the cup down and then carefully raised Legolas to a sitting position. Sliding in behind him, he propped him against his body, woke the young prince, and helped him to find the edge of the cup.
The young elf grimaced at the taste at first, but after a few sips, the drink seemed to warm his body in ways that blankets and fires had failed to do in the past hours of the day. Cup empty, Legolas leaned against his fathers body and relaxed with a deep contented sigh, feeling like he wasn't frighting with a unknown being that wanted his soul.
Keeping his eyes open, Legolas watched the dim stars brighten for the last few hours before they winked themselves to sleep.
Like many youngsters do when they fall asleep, Legolas snuggled deeper into his fathers embrace and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his mind slipped into dreams that were almost like relief.
~*~
Startled awake, Thranduil looked around for what had forced him from the light doze he'd slipped into for, what he thought was, a few minutes. Looking around for the reason, the king looked down and found his son all snuggled up and contently sucking his thumb.
Not bothering to pull the offending digit out of the child's mouth, Thranduil placed a cool palm against his sons forehead and was relieved to find no sign of a fever that had begun the night before.
Gently slipping from his child's embrace, Thranduil stretched and was satisfied when he heard several cracks along his spine, releasing tension and potential cramping for later that day.
Sensing that Legolas would be safe for at least a few minutes, Thranduil walked out of his child's room to see if he could find the healer at the breakfast table. He breathed in, feeling a wave of . . . oh how to describe the feeling . . . like peace calming the panic in his chest that wanted to either leap out of his throat or squeeze his lungs tightly. But now there was a quiet emptiness that wasn't in any way disturbing or quickly forgotten.
When Thranduil walked into the hall he noticed that some of the servants eyes refused to meet his, guessing that he had come out to tell that the youngest of the Thranduilian's had passed on. However when Taurereg looked over and noticed that it wasn't grief that was coming from the king, but a certain pride . . . and knowing? Sighing, Taurereg let a small smile come to his lips.
Putting his own food down, the healer walked over to Thranduil and waited for the answer. The king just looked at the healer not letting anything slip.
"Taurereg," Thranduil asked with the air of a confident warrior, "is it not said that mercy is granted to those who need it most, but do not ask of it?"
"Show me, Thranduil, do not give me riddles to solve on patients."
Putting his plate of food down, Thranduil led the sceptical healer to the room of the young prince, who was currently resting peacefully, curled up under his blankets, comforter and thumb in their rightful places.
Hating to wake the clearly tired child, Taurereg gently went over the princelings vitals, finding that his fever was still there, but only slight and that his breathing was steadily getting better, eve if he had a slight cold and raspy breathing, but the blood had stopped, so he was in no immediate danger.
"I wish some of my other critical patients would suffer this type of ailment." The healer muttered under his breath, but the king heard it loud and clear.
"And what medical ailment do you call this?" Thranduil replied, his blue eyes shining and a smile on his face much to the quiet annoyance of the healer.
"A miracle." Taurereg answered, gathering his left-over supplies of herbs and medical equipment, noticing the cup, he picked it up and took a whiff of the contents. A small smile lit his confused features. "Athelas, peppermint, chamomile, basil. I see that you gambled, as you did on the battlefield."
"What doesn't kill him will make him healthier." Thranduil answered.
"Well, it doesn't seem to have any unwanted effects, it's made him slightly quieter, too. Though his knee is still bruised, his hand is healing nicely." Taurereg sighed, rubbing his eyes, feeling the weight of that past few days slip from him. "I should see how Neldëá is doing, she was quite upset at Legolas's condition."
"She will make a fine healer one day," Thranduil comforted, "from what I've heard, she knew what she was doing and was level -headed, as well as a fine fighter."
"I would prefer her to be a healer," Taurereg laughed slightly, "whenever a battle, no matter how small, she has to be there for the cause."
"I know the feeling," was the kings reply.
~*~
It had now been two days since the rescue of the prince, and while he still was suffering from a runny nose and easily chilled, he was again his elfling self, a little quieter than normal but that was to be expected.
Marilla hadn't left the princes side since the day that he'd been brought in deathly ill barely able to comprehend what was happening to him, the white cat simply had to coaxed by the elfling to eat and take care of herself, which seemed to distract Legolas most of the time.
To keep himself sure that his younger brother was safe and happy Lúrin would spend a few hours, telling his young brother tales of the other creatures that lived in the forest of Mirkwood and other beings that roamed Middle-earth.
The race of men seemed to capture his interest the most, and Lúrin would spend hours describing how they were different that elves and why the weren't immortal and did he know any, and that Legolas was going to one day find one and be best friends with them.
"I can see that happening!" laughed his brother. "Next you'll telling me that a Dwarf will befriend you."
"It could be possible." Legolas replied quietly. "A wolf saved me, did it not?"
"I suppose," murmured Lúrin in thought.
"Lúrin, do you know what happened to Lanthur?"
Relaxing more into his brothers bed, Lúrin thought about it. "Well, I suppose he'll go back to his family, where he'll most likely become an alpha male, he'll have lots of cubs and be one of the best leaders that his clan has ever had."
Legolas was quiet for a while and his brother started to worry at the sudden change. "What's wrong?"
Legolas took a deep shaky breath. "At . . . the cave. I saw . . . signs of, heaps of paws that were being dragged away." He looked up at his brother, teary-eyed. "They murdered his whole family Lúrin, he has no one to care for him, Lanthur's alone."
With a sigh, Lúrin knew what he had to do. "How about I find him a new home?"
Shaking his head in earnest, Legolas grabbed onto his brothers arm. "We must bring him back!! The orcs will hunt him and kill him, he has been in the company of elves!!"
Lúrin was completely confused as to what his brother was talking about. "What are you talking about?"
"We've tainted him!!" Legolas cried. "His kind won't take him in and he'll be hunted by orc's, all because I've named him and he's placed his trust in me!"
"Calm yourself, Legolas, please." Lúrin soothed holding his brother by his shoulders. "He's an animal that has survived in this harsh forest, if he can survive here, he will be alright."
At these words Legolas burst into tears. "No, he won't." He sobbed harder and Lúrin embraced his young sibling.
"I'll make sure that he is, if not than I'll coax him back. But Legolas," Lúrin stated firmly, "being tied up for his lifetime is not worth it. He'd rather die than be isolated, alone and left on a rope."
Sniffing, Legolas wiped his eyes dry and nodded. "But he won't hurt anyone, he could live in the stables with Ruby."
Lúrin had to laugh at the thought of a stable boy (or his father) going to saddle up the roan horse only to find a male wolf with the horse. The look on their face would be enough. "I doubt that they'd agree to that." His brother smiled weakly. "It could be a new dog."
~*~
The next day Lúrin had returned with a wolf at his heels, a look of confusion and worry within it's canine features. Many of the elves that spotted Lúrin with the wolf, gave their crowned prince strange looks but were given no explanation of why a predatory creature was allowed within the borders or why it was heading towards the palace.
His senses on the wolf the whole time, Lúrin didn't fully trust the shaggy beast, especially when it was being brought to his injured brothers side. However, he did relax a little when it spotted the resting elfling and seemed to sigh in deeply and happily at finding the elfling alive and well.
"Lúrin!!" cried Legolas happily. "You found Lanthur!!! You rescued him!!!"
Smiling at his brothers joy, Lúrin allowed the wolf closer. Lanthur didn't jump on the bed but proceeded to sniff the elfling with enthusiasm and when satisfied, he gave a sigh through his mouth that held a grin.
The two simply stared at one another for what seemed hours until Legolas broke away and looked at his brother.
"He says thankyou and you're welcomed." Legolas spoke, although he sounded a little confused, "he also says that he was honoured to help and in his payment will help live off the rodents that are living off of our own food."
Lanthur gave a short bark to say that he meant it.
"And that he is thankful that you let him near our home."
"He's welcomed." Lúrin replied, bowing slightly to the wolf, who wagged his tail in return. With a last adoring glance at the child he'd helped rescue, Lanthur whined and then bounded off, where they could hear him pounding away and howling to the morning.
"Lúrin, what was he thanking you for?" Legolas asked confused.
Lúrin sighed, but his face was bright with a smile. "Well, on my way to finding him, accidentally came upon another wolf, turns out it was Lanthur's mate, and so now we have a new clan living close by."
"So, we'll be hearing them sing?" Legolas exclaimed in happiness.
"As long as they don't come too close and don't injure any of our livestock." Lúrin replied, settling himself in a comfy chair. He set his weapons aside and stretched out, hearing various joints pop in a most satisfying way. "I was hard to convince him to leave his mate though, I had to coax him."
Legolas's brow furrowed as he thought this over. "You were going to feed him Marilla, weren't you?"
Lúrin couldn't help but laugh at this.
***** AN: I'd like to make an apology to some misinformation that's in this. Twice I've written that the elf Táralóm is a healer and has a daughter. It is in FACT Taurereg who's the father of Neldëá. Táralóm is just one of the guards (one that I don't particularly like) and has no children of his own.
Also I apologise that I've been really long in updating but a few things that have happened has prevented me from doing so earlier.
The main reasons was because of the Sydney Royal Easter Show, where I won three 2nds (Dairy Goat Handlers, Best Presented and Angora Handlers) and won Champion at Alpaca Junior Judging. So that took up about two weeks or more.
And then there's the death of my rat Marco. Now I know many people think that a rat is vermin and scum of the earth, but if you met my Marco, you'd throw those comments away. He's been dead for only three weeks and I still miss my little buddy terribly, he's not in pain anymore (he died of cancer three weeks this Wednesday).
So this is dedicated to the little rat with a big heart who gave me a reason to live and brought joy to my life for three years.
****
Marco "Mr Rat" Drayton
10 March 2001 to 6 April 2004
You taught me that the true meaning to life was to have quarter of a choc- chip cookie, a medicine cup full of tea and someone to snuggle up against and crash out on every night . . . and to pine when they left for any amount of time.
I'll miss you, little man.
***