Mírdan
Chapter Two: The Healers
Meril removed the bandage that Rúmil had applied to the elf's side. Pressing a clean white cloth to the wound underneath, she applied firm pressure to try and staunch the blood flow. "I need help," she said, turning to the other healer who was looking over her shoulder. "Hold the cloth; this bleeding must be stopped now."
Placing both hands beside those of the other woman, Meril gently touched the bruised skin of the injured elf. Closing her eyes she merged her mind with his. Pain immediately wracked her body and she gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. Slowly, she moved past partial thoughts and images not her own. Visualizing the structure of the brain, she searched until she found the main vessel running through it. She followed this cord, down the neck, through the elf's heart, until she reached that which was leaking his life's fluid. Silently, she wove together the broken walls of the vein till the blood flowed along its normal path. Then she set to mending the tears in the tissue and skin surrounding the wound. There were fractures along the ribs, and she willed energy from her body to wrap around those bones. Satisfied that new growth had begun, she quickly scanned for more serious injury. Once she had repaired the worst of the bodily damage, she set about a different task.
Travelling back up the great vessel, she again entered the elf's brain, heightening her senses to a new level. On this plane appeared a swirling mass of colourful threads, mostly soft blues and greens, interspersed here and there with clingy strands of black and red. She followed one of the red and began an intricate manoeuvre. Lightly pulling on the delicate strand, she unwound it from around those of cooler colour, balling it into her mind and compressing it into a compact bundle. Taking one of the black threads, she began to wrap it around the ball she had made, until black completely covered red, walling away pain and painful memories, as one would wrap a ball of yarn. She knew this to be a temporary fix only, but any respite she could give would do much to mend the broken body. The elf desperately needed a few days of peaceful, healing sleep. Mind healing took much energy, and as her strength began to wane, she withdrew her connection.
It took some time before Meril's eyes focused. She rubbed them and smiled wearily at her apprentice.
"How fares our patient?" she asked.
"His breathing is better and there is colour in his cheeks." Her partner replied.
"Good," said Meril. "Now that he is more stable, we should clean the rest of his wounds."
In companionable silence, both women dipped clean white cotton cloth into bowls of warm water that were set on a tray beside them and began to cleanse the dried blood that covered almost every surface of the elf's body.
"There are old scars and bruises here," Meril said, "and some wounds that were healed have been freshly opened. This elf has been beaten continuously for a long period of time. The gash is most recent, but at least two days old. From whence he came, I know not, but I do wonder that he made it here at all."
Meril sighed. "Sit with him while I speak with Rúmil and Rŷn. I am sure they wonder how he fares. Afterward, I will fetch us a snack from the kitchen."
Her assistant nodded, "I will keep watch on our patient. After we eat, you should rest. You may relieve me when you have gained back your strength." She took a seat in a chair by the side of the bed, her eyes never leaving the pitiful shape under the blankets. Like Rúmil, she prayed to the Valar that the elf would recover.
Meril wiped her hands on her apron and gently closed the door to the healing room. Rúmil and Rŷn had been sitting on a bench outside the door, and both stood when she entered the hallway.
"Will he live?" Rúmil asked the question foremost in everyone's mind.
"I have done what I could for his physical injuries," Meril replied, "As to the other; it shall depend on how much will he has to live. He has been through a lot, I am afraid."
"May we see him?" both Rúmil andRŷn asked at the same time.
"Best let him rest a few days. I will keep you informed of his progress and will let you know when he awakens," Meril answered. "There is nothing more either of you can do here. Go home and rest. I will notify you of any change in his condition. And Rúmil, I have sent a message to Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel, and Marchwarden Haldir and three galadhrim have been sent to the border to relieve Fael." She smiled at both Rúmil and Rŷn. "Keep our elf in your prayers. Perhaps we will find out more when he regains consciousness."
Rúmil pushed his head back once more under the cascading water of the falls. He had scrubbed his body till it was almost raw, but he still felt the blood of the wounded elf on his skin, still felt the miniscule weight of the slight body in his arms. In his mind, he heard once again the whimper of pain that had escaped those pale lips. "By the valar, who could treat an elf so unjustly?" he thought. He stepped from the ledge in front of the falls and clambered from rock to rock until he reached the riverbank then stood for a moment, letting the water run slowly from his skin. The image of the elf again played before his eyes. What could he possibly have done to undergo such rough treatment? Who in his right mind could inflict such damage on anyone? It was beyond Rúmil's capability of understanding. If at all within his power, he would make sure no harm would come to the elf again.
Once he had dried his wet hair and body, he dressed and started walking towards home. The events of the morning had pushed his weariness away, but now it returned full force, and it was with heavy steps that he climbed the ladder to his talan. After putting away his weapons, and removing his boots and cloak, he sank tiredly into a chair and rested his head against the wooden dining table. A hand gently touched his shoulder as his older brother, Haldir, placed a cup of steaming tea in front of him.
"Aye, brother, I heard of your deed this day," Haldir spoke softly into his ear, as he wrapped his arms about his youngest brother. Tears brimmed in Rúmil's eyes and flowed down his cheeks as he leant back against the comfort of Haldir's chest.
"He was hurt so badly, Hal," Rúmil whispered. "I do not think there was an inch of his body that was left untouched. Meril said he had been abused for some time. Haldir, I could feel his pain, I still feel it now."
"Shush, Rúmil, he is safe." Haldir replied as he nuzzled Rúmil's hair. "Drink the tea and I will help you to bed. I will even lay with you if you like."
Rúmil looked up lovingly into the warm hazel eyes of his brother. "Aye, Haldir, I would like that. I know I will see his face many times over in my sleep."
Haldir nodded, thinking of the many nights he had held Rúmil in his arms while his youngest brother battled nightmares. So young, so innocent, he thought, looking down at the upturned face.
Haldir, Orophin and Rúmil were orphans. They were but elflings when their parents were brutally attacked and killed by orcs. Orophin, the eldest of the three locked his sorrow inside, as did Haldir. But Rúmil suffered in his sleep, reliving the loss over and over in troubled dreams. Rúmil, who would hunt orcs with blood lust and hatred in his eyes, but would cry over a dragonfly with a broken wing; Rúmil, who was by nature gentle and loving. "Yes, Rúmil," Haldir thought, "would take the injured elf's pain to heart."
Seeing that his brother had finished his tea, Haldir removed the empty cup from the table and grasping Rúmil by the wrist, led him into his bedroom. Rúmil had just enough strength left to change into a nightshirt before he fell in an exhausted heap on the bed. Haldir tucked the covers around his sibling, then rounded the bed and crawled in on the other side. Moving up against his brother, he clasped him in his arms and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Good night, pen-neth, may your sleep be peaceful." he whispered. Soon they were both fast asleep.
Haldir woke to Rúmil's cries. Holding his brother close, he whispered words of comfort in his ear. Hurried footsteps sounded outside the door and soon other arms sought Rúmil as Orophin slid under the sheets, his eyes full of concern. Sweat beaded on Rúmil's brow and dampened the back of his nightshirt as his body rolled restlessly from side to side. Orophin pushed a moist strand of silver hair away from Rúmil's face and wiped at the tears leaving wet trails down pale cheeks.
"It happens again," Orophin spoke softly to Haldir.
"Yes, it does, but I expected it tonight," said Haldir.
He quickly filled Orophin in on the events of the afternoon. Pain shot through Orophin's eyes as he thought about the elf, then remembered his parent's broken and battered bodies. Looking at Haldir, he saw the same angst mirrored in his brother's face. Reaching out a hand, he traced his fingers down Haldir's sculpted cheek, while with his other he caressed his youngest brother.
Orophin had become father and mother to them both after their parents died, and he held Rúmil and Haldir dearly in his heart. Time passed as the two elder brothers tenderly watched over their youngest. "I believe the worst is over," Haldir whispered, as Rúmil's breathing steadied to a regular rhythm and his hoarse cries quieted down to a few whimpers. When the rays of the morning sun broke through the curtains, its warm light fell on a tangle of silver-blond locks and entwined limbs, as all three brothers slumbered curled in each other's arms.
-Three days later - The Healing House
A hand touched his face and he screamed. The pain, would it never go away? He hated their hands on his body, the stench of their breath, and the ugly sounds of their voices. In a few moments, he knew it would begin again. It was always worse in the morning, just after he awakened. The hand touched his face again and he cringed. "Please", he whispered hoarsely through cracked lips, "I can tell you nothing." He stiffened for the blow he knew would come next.
"You are safe, sweet one," a voice whispered. "No one will harm you anymore, I promise."
A moan of despair left his lips, he was dreaming again. Never would he leave this place, never would he be free from the endless torture. A hand slipped behind his head, lifting it up slightly, and something was pressed against his lips.
"Drink this, it will help ease your pain and let you sleep. It is an herbal tea and it is just warm, so you will not burn your mouth." said the voice.
The elf tightened his lips and shook his head. "I will not drink your poison," he said through clenched teeth. "Do to me what you will, I will not tell you what you desire to know!" At this point his voice broke in a strangled sob and he turned his head away to hide his tears.
"Ah, sweet one, but you are safe in Lothlórien. I am a healer and am not going to harm you. Believe me, for I would not lie to you. If you open your eyes you can see I tell the truth."
The elf turned his head in the direction of the voice and with much effort, opened his eyes. What he saw took his breath away. Soft blue eyes full of concern gazed at him from a face framed with shining silver hair, soft blue Elven eyes.
"I know not how you create this vision", he whispered hoarsely, "but I will not give in to you."
"I am not a vision, sweet one. My name is Meril, and I am a healer. One of our guards found you unconscious on the road three days ago. You have been under my care since then, and I have been waiting patiently for you to awaken. You are clean; your wounds are bandaged; now I wish to relieve some of your pain. This is a sleeping draught that contains analgesic herbs. You need to sleep so your body can heal."
Oh, how he wished to believe in this vision, but he knew he could never escape his tormentors. Countless times he had wracked his brain seeking a way of escape, but could find none. Maybe it was a sleeping potion; they had forced one down his lips before, making him sleep so his body could heal enough that the next day's torture would not kill him.
"Look around you my friend; you are in the Golden Woods. Can you not feel their magic? Talk to the trees, they will tell you what I say is true. The trees never lie."
The elf looked into the soft blue eyes again, wanting so much to believe that he was safe. "Give me your potion then, if just to let me sleep one night without pain," he gasped.
Meril held the cup to his lips and he drank. Soon his eyes closed and he fell into a deep sleep.
TBC