By the Sinister Sindar Sisters
Disclaimer: Though, try as we might, we still don't own anything created by the great J.R.R. Tolkien, so we just borrow them for these stories.
Also a little warning, you may need a tissue for later in the story... Sorry. Nah we're not, not really. Mwahahahaha!
Chapter Four
OOOOOOO
For a long moment, nothing in the clearing moved. The rain even seemed to have slowed in anticipation of the outcome of the encounter.
With slow, careful movements, each of the Elves reached up and pulled an arrow from their quiver. Red eyes blinked, but the spiders did not move. Almost as one, the hunters raised their bows and aimed. The spiders had not moved before the next arrows flew straight and true. Thoronhen's arrow hit his spider deep in one of its main eyes and embedded in its brain. The evil creature was dead before it fell from the tree and landed with a thump on the ground. Two others soon joined it.
This finally seemed to spur the evil creatures to action. They shrieked with anger and swarmed down or jumped from the trees as the Elves' bowstrings hummed with the speed of their firing. Black spider blood dripped from the trees and splattered the fighters below. The only other sound was the high-pitched squeal of the dying spiders as they plunged to the muddy forest floor.
These three hunters were recognised in Mirkwood as some of the best warriors in the Elvenking's service and for good reason. Each had many years experience. They knew the best parts of the spider's body to aim for, the deadliest targets. The three automatically assumed a defensive formation, backs to each other in the small copse.
Still, they were lucky that the weather was as cold and wet as it was. The creatures were still slowed and sluggish from their unusually long winter's sleep. It made it easier to kill the spiders, much easier. Normally, these numbers could have easily overcome only three warriors, no matter how good or experienced they were.
Even slowed as they were, the spiders were quick enough to close the distance between them while two were left to fight. The Elves were forced to drop their bows and draw their swords. At least, Lathron and Craban drew swords. They moved with a speed to match the spiders, their blades flashed and whirled. Thoronhen stood back with his bow, ready to aid either of them at need. He watched the forest around them in case other spiders appeared. It proved unnecessary however, as Craban dispatched the last spider with a thrust of his sword.
Thoronhen watched the last spider die before he raised his eyes to scan the sky once more. "We must return to the web where the Orc is hanging and make certain that these spiders have not left a brood of their evil spawn. That Orc may be intended as food for their hatchlings or I believe he would have been sucked dry already. This group looked hungry. Perhaps, if we destroy their nests, this section of the forest can return to normal. We don't want to leave any alive this close to the cave either. The Captain would have our braids."
Craban nodded. "Wise thinking. We were fortunate that you were with us, Thoronhen. If you had not been watching the skies for the dragon again, we probably would not have seen these spiders. I did not expect so many to be this close to the Misty Mountains. It seems that the spiders are awake now and spreading their evil even further to the west along the Old Forest Road. Next time, Lathron, we may leave you stuck if you walk into a web again!" Craban tugged at a bit of webbing still stuck to his friend's cloak.
Craban could not pass up the opportunity to tease his old friend. Now that the spiders had been killed, they had a moment's luxury to tease one another as they gathered their arrows and cleaned the spider's black gore from their blades. Any large game in the area had already been frightened away by the presence of the spiders. "If you would stop watching Thoronhen to see if he will stumble as he watches the sky you will see where you are going."
"I had to give you something to do to ease your boredom did I not? Besides, if you leave me in a web, how do you expect to get the knife I still owe you?" Lathron was pink in the cheeks even as he laughed. It was true that he had been watching the leader of their group for a moment, a moment's distraction he should not have allowed himself.
"You should know by now that I always keep an eye on my footing when I search the skies for the dragon. You don't see me walking into webs, do you?" Thoronhen scolded in mock-seriousness. "Lath, you take that tree. Craban, you have that one. We will meet back here. Any nests and eggs must be destroyed. Luckily, it is too early for the eggs to have hatched yet." With a smile they all swung easily into the trees. They let their hearts sing reassurance to the trees that they were unharmed from the fight.
OOOOOOO
Thranduil had Legolas stripped down to his leggings on his pallet and had been bathing him with the warm water for some minutes before Bremoline reappeared. It had been difficult to undress his son because of his tingling hands. During his trip outside, he had also noticed that his feet were tingling as well. Nothing he did seemed to ease the feeling and there was a constant pounding in his head.
Calandor was well attended by his fellow guards. They took turns sitting with him and giving him small sips of water regularly.
A couple of the warriors worked to tie together a framework of tree limbs to drape a couple of blankets over for use as a privacy screen for the privy.
Captain Bremoline appeared suddenly. He carried Doroniel in his arms as he ran into the cave. They were both muddy as well as soaked. Thranduil was shocked to see that the healer appeared to be unconscious.
As Bremoline walked past them, Ruthwen's voice was heard. "How shocking, she even has the King's Captain jumping to her every whim. I wonder. Is the King aware of this little dalliance too? She seems to have charmed several of them."
Voices stilled at his appearance. Any friendly teasing his men may have intended to give their Captain about being at the beck and call of the Elleth was forestalled when the loud 'whispers' came from the other two Elleth in the group. It made their tempers rise and the friendly banter died before it had even started. Most of them had also noted that the well-liked healer in their Captain's arms had her eyes closed.
"Imagine how embarrassing that must be. The brave Captain of the King's Home Guard reduced to nursemaid for a weak Elfling Prince and a healer of no use!" Imles voice sounded honey-sweet and innocent, but Bremoline was not fooled, he heard the underlying malice. With a grateful nod, Bremoline handed Doroniel over to one of his men, who gently laid her on a pallet.
Anger coursed through him, he could see it reflected in the eyes of the others before him. His thoughts were inflamed with those stupid, heartless words. 'Weak Elfling Prince'? Had they no idea what Legolas had seen and experienced? Did they even care? They had not seen their Queen's lifeless body as he had. 'A healer of no use'! What right had those two to call others useless?
Blinded in his anger, he removed his cloak and flung it aside without regard for where it would land. There a loud 'splat' and a squeal of shock.
He glanced around but saw no cause for the noise until he looked down. There, sitting on the ground and draped in his heavily sodden and muddy cloak, was Ruthwen. She had her hand cupped to her cheek and a shocked look could be seen behind the mud on her face. There was a sound of laughter from every corner of the cave.
He opened his mouth to apologise and then paused. No, he would not apologise to her, for he felt no regret. It would be too much like a lie. He would apologise to his King, however. He should not have let his temper get the better of him. With a mocking bow, he plucked the wet cloak from her lap. "Thank you for catching it, my lady." His voice heavy with sarcasm, he turned and made for the main fire where Doroniel had been taken.
Ruthwen was left sprawled and sputtering on the ground. Imles was the only one to offer her assistance.
The look of mild amusement on Thranduil's face faded as he asked. "What happened?" He carefully stored away the memory of what he had just witnessed. He would enjoy it at a later time.
Bremoline fell to one knee before him and bowed his head, water still dripped from his black warrior braids. "I am sorry, Aran-nin, I let my temp..."
Thranduil shook his head slightly and waved away his words. "Don't worry about that, Bremoline. That was an accident." Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "Besides, she deserved much more than that for her comments. No, I meant what happened to Doroniel, is she alright? And please, it is Thranduil."
"As you wish, Thranduil. All was well until we were on our way back. We moved slowly, but she had insisted on moving a distance down the slope from the mouth of the cave. Doroniel was as unsteady on her feet as you were and she was ill once again. We heard shrill cries of some kind from the forest behind us and both turned quickly. It proved a little too much for her, I fear. She was overcome with dizziness, I think. She fainted and slipped a short distance down the slope again though she was unharmed. There is mud everywhere now, as you well know." He stared at his own mud-spattered boots and leggings. "I brought her back as soon as I could. I am concerned for our hunting party though."
"They will be alright. You know they are all capable fighters, Bremoline. Will you see to Doroniel while I continue to try to get Legolas' fever down? You will need to remove her muddy garments and make her more comfortable. I know you will do it with all propriety, just as you would for your own daughter." Thranduil had already returned to the care of his son even as Bremoline spoke.
"I will gladly help her. She is only asleep now, I think, though I am worried at how much she is trembling." Bremoline didn't give the matter a second thought, but removed her muddy boots and outer clothing, keeping her modestly covered at all times in her long inner tunic and a blanket. He made an attempt to dry her hair, but gave up in fear of waking her. He set aside her sodden clothes with his cloak to be cleaned. He then gently wrapped her in a couple of blankets and settled her on a dry pallet beside the fire. "I think she will continue to sleep, for a while. This means we will have to change the order in which we rest."
"I am content with that. I have slept, although I would wager that you have not slept since we got here, have you, Captain? It is said that you watched over Legolas and me throughout the night."
Bremoline did not answer, but from the look he gave, Thranduil knew the truth of it. He had heard some of the guards whisper of it as well. The concern for their Captain was a testament of their respect for him.
Thranduil caressed Legolas' fevered cheek. "I would rather help my son now and it is obvious that Doroniel has the greater need for rest at the moment. I fear she was as badly affected as the rest of us who were caught by the thunderbolt. It has finally overcome her stubborn sense of duty. I think that may be all that kept her going this long."
"Thranduil, I should not have let my temper…." He was obviously troubled by his earlier outburst.
"Please, Bremoline, I will say nothing more on the matter than this. I do not fault you for the incident. For some reason, it seems that both Ruthwen and Imles are determined to antagonise as many people as they can. I will have to speak with them about this. It will not be in their best interests if they continue on this path. Why they argued so vehemently to come on this journey, when it is obvious that neither of them want to be here with us, is beyond me. I still do not understand why I ever agreed to let them come."
All the time he was speaking he was dipping the cloth into the water and washing Legolas down. When he realised that the water was growing progressively warmer, his concern rose.
He was about to stand to get some more tepid water when one of his guards appeared before him. "Please, allow me do that for you, Aran-nin, you stay with the Prince." He took the bowl and went to get some fresh water that was waiting near the fire. It was clear that the guards were keeping a close watch on them.
Thranduil allowed a small grateful smile and looked down at his son before reaching for a water skin that had been placed nearby for him earlier. With his fever this high, Legolas would need frequent drinks. The last thing he wanted was for his son to become dehydrated. He reached for the skin without looking and when he tried to lift it, it slipped from his grasp. Bremoline noticed him fumble with it for a moment before he could grasp it securely
"Are you alright? Is there something wrong?" Bremoline cast a worried eye at Thranduil's hands, which shook slightly as he removed the plug from the water skin..
"No, I am fine. It is Legolas I worry for."
With gentle movements, he lifted Legolas and cradled him once more in his lap. He gave the Elfling small sips of water, waiting for him to automatically swallow each one, to make sure that he did not choke. Bremoline sat and watched, noting Thranduil's worried eyes.
"He will recover, Thranduil. He is stronger than many warriors I have seen. He has been through so much in his young life already and recovered..."
Thranduil shook his head with a sigh. "That is just it, Bremoline. Legolas has not recovered, not really. Why do you think I brought him with me? I could not leave him behind, alone and grieving. He needs me to be here for him. He has just recently remembered how to smile again, but there is still a great chance that he will fade. His body may have mended but his fea is still wounded." As is mine, he thought, as his heartbeat grew painful in his chest as it always did when he thought of that day.
Thranduil bowed his head and placed a trembling hand over his eyes.
"Yesterday, before the Orcs came, I promised him he would be safe. He was terrified of the Orcs. What if this last attack was too much? What if he never gets over this? Did you ever wonder why Doroniel is with us on this trip, Bremoline? It is because she is able to comfort him after his nightmares, better than I can sometimes. We thought that if she came with us it would help him, but what if it does not? What if everything we do is not enough? What then? What will happen to our people without us?" Thranduil's face reflected the grief and fear evident in his voice.
Bremoline opened his mouth to offer comfort when he realized the full meaning behind his King's last word. "Us." He looked at Thranduil in shock.
Thranduil's gaze was sad when he lowered his hand. "Yes, Bremoline, I did mean us. If Legolas dies, I will fade. Not even the Undying Lands will stop that, I fear. I do not think I would last long enough to reach them. I also suffered pellin. My precious Las is all that has held me here since…." The unspoken words seemed to choke Thranduil. A tear slipped down his cheek and he shook with suppressed grief.
With a jolt of understanding, Bremoline realised that the person before him was not just their King. He was also a tired and wounded elf striving against giving in to his grief over the loss of his soul-
mate and a father who feared for the life of his only son.
The King may care for the land and his people but who will comfort the King in his grief?
Bremoline placed his hand on Thranduil's shoulder in a gesture of comfort and reassurance. His own eyes shined with tears that he was not ashamed to show. "Then, mellon-nin, we will just have to make sure that Legolas stays with us. Hir Elrond will be able to help your son. His aid is but three, perhaps four, days away at most. Between the two of us and Doroniel, we will fight to keep your son with us until then. I will make sure of it with everything I can give, I promise you this. I am sure that every guard here feels the same. We all share your grief."
Bremoline meant every word with all his heart. His own memories of that day were painful as well. He had been there when the Queen's body was found. He also knew the pain of losing a loved one. If he could trade places with the Prince, he would not hesitate. The King and his son had already been through so much after the murder of their Queen. Surely, this was not the fate the Valar meant for either of them. Their realm needed its King and Prince even more now to keep back the growing shadow.
Thranduil placed a trembling hand on Bremoline's shoulder and met his eyes. "Thank you, Bremoline. I appreciate your concern, as would Legolas if he could know." He drew a tremulous breath and nodded. "You are right, mellon-nin, I should not despair. If there is to be any hope for Legolas to recover, I still need to be strong for him, and I will be." Thranduil dried his eyes and gently laid Legolas back on his pallet. He took the damp cloth from his son's chest, where he had draped it to cool him. He began his ministrations once more as the bowl of fresh water was placed next to him and another water skin as well.
"For the Prince, Hir-nin, it is cool and fresh. We will make sure there is always a fresh water skin on hand." The warrior smiled at his King and Prince, though he seemed very worried.
"Thank you, Rithlin that would be very helpful. I am most grateful." Thranduil tried to show his deep feeling of gratitude with a smile, though his eyes were still quite sad.
"It is nothing, Aran-nin. The Prince has brought great joy to us all. We grieve that he is hurt." Rithlin bowed and walked back to his post.
Thranduil began once more to sponge his son with the tepid water. He made sure to include his small chest. He refused to allow anyone else to do this for him, though he accepted their assistance to get water and other needed items.
OOOOOOO
Over the next few hours both of them were busy, caring for Calandor and Legolas, leaving Doroniel to sleep, though they also checked on her often. It was the best thing they could think to do for her.
Few people in the cave were idle for long unless they took the time for well-deserved rest. Bremoline had the guards stand their watches on a regular schedule, inside the cave and out. Many small tasks were done, from cleaning mud from clothes and gear to guarding the horses as they were allowed to graze near the cave.
Neither Legolas nor Calandor stirred and everyone around them settled in for the afternoon. Ruthwen and Imles glowered at everyone from their new positions while they whispered to each other.
No matter what tasks were done in the cave, they made no effort to help. Twice they visited the privy and twice they came out with looks of extreme distaste on their faces. If they thought it would help their cause or garner them any sympathy, they were much mistaken. Not one of the Elves moved to offer to help them. Unknown to the ladies, this had been on Thranduil's order, though the order had hardly been needed.
Thranduil and Bremoline had started to worry at the absence of the hunters by dusk but it was not long afterwards that the rain seemed to part and three green-cloaked figures stepped into the cave. Water poured off them.
Thoronhen entered first with a brace of rabbits slung over his shoulder. He was soaked and covered in mud and what looked like black blood stained his cloak. Bremoline stood from beside Calandor to meet them as the others came in. They all appeared to be in the same condition.
"What happened?" Thranduil asked from his spot on the floor beside his son.
Thoronhen spoke for them. "Spiders, Aran-nin, not far from here. We took care of them and made certain there were no others about. We checked for nests as well since they had an Orc hanging as meat, probably one who escaped us yesterday. The spiders had been here for some time, so we had to go further out to hunt. Some of the lower areas are flooded. It took us longer than we thought it would, but we still managed to get a stag and some rabbits. They should last us for at least two days." Thoronhen spoke quickly to allay the King's fears. He dropped the rabbits on the ground as he spoke. Lathron put the stag down beside the rabbits.
"We heard a scream from the forest earlier, some time after you left." Bremoline was looking his men over for any sign of injuries. They seemed unhurt, other than the mud covering their stained cloaks. "Is that blood on your cloaks?"
"Yes, sir, the scream and blood came from the spiders, they were in the trees above us. The forest was silent other than that. There was no sign of the dragon, Aran-nin, I kept a diligent watch. May I ask how the Prince and Calandor fare?" The news that there was no sign of the fearsome dragon, Smaug, was a great relief to them all. It was unknown if it hunted this far to the west, though it had been spotted hunting over eastern parts of Mirkwood Forest several times.
"There has been no change, though the Prince has been running a very high fever." Bremoline began.
"How high?" A voice from behind them asked and made them all turn. It was Doroniel, blinking sleepily from a pallet. The commotion of the hunters' return had awakened her.
Thranduil answered. "I fear it is still very high, Doroniel, we cannot seem to get it down at all. I have tried for hours, since you left the cave with Bremoline near midday. I have been bathing him and giving him water." Thranduil had returned to washing Legolas down when he realised that the three hunters were safe and unharmed.
"Since I left the cave with Bremoline?" Doroniel sounded puzzled, as if unsure whether Thranduil was joking with her. "What do you mean? When I left ... oh!" Memory finally reasserted itself and she raised a hand, self-consciously, to her hair. It felt as if it were made of straw because it was stiff with dried mud. "What happened? We were almost back to the cave when we heard a screech?"
"The hunters encountered spiders not far from..." Bremoline paused and felt himself pale as he realised how close they had all been to the danger and not even realised it. If they could hear the death-screech of the spiders, they had been well within their hunting range. Had they been confronted with a spider, he would have been helpless with the healer unconscious in his arms. It did not bear thinking about.
"Spiders? Was anyone hurt?" Doroniel made the mistake of trying to sit up quickly and ended up flat on her back once more. Sniggers were clearly heard in the echoing hollow of the cave. She ignored them as the floor rolled in her perception.
"Easy, my lady." Bremoline hurried over and knelt to help her sit up slowly. "There were no injuries and the spiders have been killed. The hunters have returned with fresh meat. Rest and get your bearings. We need you to take a look at Legolas."
"I am glad that there are no new injuries. Thank you, Bremoline, I am fine now." Doroniel was again cut off from speaking, this time by Thranduil.
"No, my dear lady, it is clear that you are not. You fainted and have slept with your eyes closed for almost five hours. You will take time to have some fruit and some tea and then you can see to the wounded."
Thranduil turned his gaze to the Captain of his Guard. "Bremoline, your men are back, safe and unharmed. Doroniel is now awake and able to help me. You have not slept for almost three days now. Captain Bremoline, I order you to your bed. You will rest now, do I make myself clear?" The order was crystal clear and to everyone's amusement, the Captain blushed before bowing.
"By your order, Thranduil. I bid you good evening. Please, wake me about five hours from now?" He looked much like a chastised Elfling as he made his way directly to his bedroll. He had arranged to have the two ladies located close to his pallet, thinking his proximity could help forestall problems between the two troublesome elleth and his men. Perhaps that was why he noticed the black look on Ruthwen's face caused by Thranduil's last words. Why the words bothered her, he was not sure.
He had just lain down with his back to the two ladies, when he heard Thranduil again. "Thoronhen, I know you have cleaned the stag in the field, but you will need someone to clean the rabbits. I am sure the ladies will be more than happy to help you and your men prepare them for the evening meal."
Bremoline smiled at the shocked hisses and whispers that he heard from beside him. Oh yes, the ladies were not happy with this, not happy at all. It would be shocking if they did not know how to prepare the rabbits for the pot. Every Elfling was taught that skill as a matter of course. Bremoline knew those two would not like being ordered to do the work with so many other people around who they would expect to do the work for them.
"Aran-nin, is that really necessary? You have ordered us to attend to the privy, is it not enough to humiliate us in that manner?" Ruthwen sounded very angry. Bremoline smiled to himself. This Elleth really did not know when to keep quiet. He also knew that Thranduil was in no mood to let her get away with this. He was right.
"It is necessary, if you wish to eat along with the rest of us this evening or for any other meal. We have already had this conversation Ruthwen. I will not discuss it again. You are aware of your options. You are warned, there are spiders near and they are awake now. The hunters have encountered some already. The choice is yours, as usual. Heed me, I want to hear no more unkind comments about others who cannot answer for themselves. You are doing your cause no favours by your behaviour. It is not too far for you two to travel to Rivendell from here on your own, spiders or not." Thranduil turned back to Legolas, dismissing her rather effectively.
The cave grew quiet then and it was with a sense of great satisfaction that Bremoline finally lost himself in the paths of elven dreams.
Doroniel managed to keep her face neutral as Thranduil put Ruthwen firmly in her place, although she frowned at the comment about unkind comments. Had they made more? It really would not surprise her.
A goblet of hot tea appeared in front of her, along with a plate of dried fruit. "You should eat, Doroniel, the King has ordered it." Lathron grinned at her, still sodden and muddy, not caring about himself but more concerned with others as usual. Lathron hadn't even washed his face yet although he had removed his heavy cloak.
"Thank you, Lathron. You should get something to eat too. Aren't you uncomfortable, still being so wet?" Doroniel smiled at the warrior. She had known him for some time and had treated him frequently for Orc-inflicted wounds after a battle. He never seemed to get any spider wounds, always Orc wounds. Even so, they were usually superficial enough to leave for her, as a junior healer, to treat.
"I will get something shortly. I just thought someone should bring you something to eat. I heard that you have been ill again." He paused and looked worried before he continued in a low voice. "I also wanted an excuse to speak to you for a moment, Doroniel, about the King. As a healer, I think it might be something you should know. Those of us in the King's guards have opportunity to observe him quite closely. I think the King is perhaps affected more than he will admit. I was just told that he dropped a water skin earlier today and that he seems reluctant to stand. We all know he worries deeply for his son and would not tell you these things himself."
Lathron broke off, unsure if he should really be talking about his King like this. Was this classed as treason? Well, if it was, he would live with the consequences. He had sworn to protect his King's life and health and, as far as he was concerned, that was what he was doing. His young friend, Rithlin, who had been on duty, had seen the King drop the water skin. Rithlin had been worried enough to tell him about it the moment he had a chance. Thranduil just does not drop things like that and he tends to pace when he is worried.
"Thank you, Lathron, I know how you worry, but just leave the King to me. I will make certain that he is alright." Doroniel reached to take the goblet from him. To her surprise, she almost dropped it as the tingling in her hands suddenly intensified. It felt as if she had received another shock.
Luckily, Lathron had been watching her and waiting, just in case. The healer had, after all, been affected by the same thunderbolt, so it stood to reason that, if the King was having problems, so would she. Well, at least it made sense to him. He took the goblet from her before it could spill over her shaking hands and set it on the ground near the pallet along with the plate of fruit.
Her movement caused the blanket still wrapped around her to fall off her shoulders and it was then, as the air hit the bare skin of her arms, that she looked down, puzzled, before she realised that she only wore her long under tunic. She quickly covered herself again with the blanket as Lathron looked away in surprise.
"Where are my clothes?" She did not mean to speak sharply, but she did. She was startled to find herself so unexpectedly in this state of undress. Well, actually, she was still modestly covered, but somehow she didn't think the two ladies had attended her as she slept. She also realized at that moment that she occupied someone else's pallet.
Thranduil answered her. "You were covered in mud when you were brought back to the cave. Captain Bremoline removed your wet things at my request. Have no fear, he did not touch you unnecessarily and you were covered at all times. Your clothes have been cleaned and are drying on the other side of the fire. I will get your pack for you." Thranduil started to stand then, but Lathron beat him to it.
"I will get it for you, Aran-nin, you continue to care for the Prince." He hurried to Doroniel's pallet next to Calandor and brought her pack so she could dress.
All of the Elves, at least the males, then turned away to allow her privacy. She finished getting dressed, then pulled out her brush and tried to do something about the state of her hair. It took her a while to simply undo the braid from the day before so she could begin to brush it, then she dropped her brush three times because it slipped from her tingling fingers. She had hardly started to get the muddy tangles out of her curly hair.
The three hunters were also seated near the central fire then, drying their own hair and sipping some tea. They were watching Doroniel and appeared to be about to offer to help her when Rithlin stepped up to her side. "I do not wish to be too forward, Doroniel, but I noticed that you are having difficulties…"
She noticed the young guard's face redden slightly. He was blushing. Brushing a lady's hair was considered a somewhat intimate contact between couples.
The three hunters snorted slightly in their cups, hiding impressed grins. Doroniel was a bit surprised, but seriously considered that she could not take all day to get her hair brushed. She had patients to care for.
She eyed Rithlin as he stood there a bit uneasily, awaiting her answer. His face had reddened even further at the amused looks the three hunters had given him at his boldness in offering his help. She simply nodded and handed him the brush. "I thank you Rithlin, I'm afraid I must ask your help with a simple braid as well." She turned her back to him so he could easily get to her hair. She said nothing more about it, but raised her eyebrow when Craban commented to Rithlin. "Calandor will be jealous." What did he mean by that? She thought about that as she carefully finished the tea and fruit, trying to ignore what Rithlin was doing.
Rithlin was as gentle as he could be, but when he encountered a few tangles it still pulled a bit painfully. He also encountered the problem that the ends of her hair were 'frizzed' as if it had been too near a fire. Also the longer he brushed it, it more it seemed to become full of static that made it stick to his hands and fly away from the brush as well. He finished as quickly as he could under the gaze of the three hunters. They didn't say anything else, though they seemed to be acting as 'chaperones' for Doroniel as he finished off the thick braid in her hair.
Doroniel turned and gave him a nod of thanks. "Thank you for your help, Rithlin. You saved me a lot of time and trouble. I'm afraid I could not have managed it by myself right now since my hands do not seem to want to hold anything securely at the moment."
"Glad to be of service." Rithlin, still red-faced, bowed before hastily retreating under the amused gazes of Thoronhen, Craban and Lathron.
Ruthwen and Imles sneered at the little scene from their places by their own small fire. Doroniel realised that they had not yet moved to help with the preparation of the food.
It was clear that Thranduil had noticed as well. "Your dinner will not cook itself, ladies." Thranduil's voice was cold and stern. "That is if you decide that you want to eat tonight." The warning was clear in his voice.
Doroniel smiled as the two finally moved from their spot in the cave to beside the fire which had been stoked for cooking and smoking the meat to preserve it. The sight of those two scurrying to help the hunters was worth more than anything on Arda. No, she reflected. Legolas and Calandor awake and well would be worth much more.
Doroniel tried to stand to pull on her dry leggings. It was at that moment that she realised that her legs felt weak and tingled from just below her knees to her toes. Was this why Thranduil barely moved from Legolas' side? If so, the privy was going to get heavier use than they all had first thought. She realised then that both the King and herself would be classed among the wounded who would find it necessary to use it because neither of them would be able to walk very far either. Ruthwen and Imles would have to see to the privy afterwards. She allowed herself a moment of satisfaction that Ruthwen would be forced to actually work that much harder for another's benefit.
Back to more practical concerns for the moment, how was she going to get her leggings on without falling flat on her face?
"May I offer my aid, Doroniel? I vow that I will not look." Lathron was beside her, offering his arm to help steady her again. How could she pass it up? She was especially grateful when he also offered to help her to the King's side to see to Legolas. Her feet were actually painful and getting worse the longer she stood on them. She felt such great relief when she was finally able to sit back down that she could not stop the sigh from leaving her lips.
"Still not well?" Thranduil smiled at her, a knowing look upon his face.
"I am fine and you?" It was a leading question. She knew the answer she expected to hear. She was right.
"I am well but very worried about Legolas. His fever seems to be getting higher." Thranduil was changing the subject and she knew it. He had reason to worry, though, if Legolas' fever was getting higher and nothing he did seemed to help.
"Please, let me see him then. We will talk about how you fare after I have finished. I know that you feel ill. You cannot hide it from one who suffers the same problems, Thranduil." She was pleased to see the shocked look of guilt that crossed his face, but her minor moment of triumph was ruined from behind them.
"You cannot expect me to do that!" It was Imles, her voice no longer mild and honey-sweet, but shrill and strident. Thranduil scowled with irritation as he turned to see the Elleth with her arms crossed defiantly, a mutinous look on her face.
"What, by the Valar, is the problem now?" Thranduil fought to keep his temper in check. The thought of sending them both on their way to Imladris sounded better by the minute. He even considered making them walk, though horses would speed them on their way.
"He expects me to put my hand into... into... that!"
'That' was the dead rabbit she was supposed to be preparing for the stew pot. Ruthwen was nodding her agreement. Craban stood nearby with a knife in his hand, clearly trying to instruct the ladies in their task.
"Are you seriously trying to make me believe that neither of you have ever prepared a rabbit before? Not even as an Elfling?" Thranduil was clearly irritated yet his voice held just the right mixture of amazement and incredulity.
"No... yes... well...that is…." Imles was stuttering under the King's fierce gaze.
"Well, are you unable to do a task that young Legolas, himself, has accomplished already on this journey? An Elfling, I might add, who is much, much younger than you. I strongly suggest that you recall your early lessons, right now. Imles, you will also be tending the fires in the morning with the help of Ruthwen. I do not wish to hear one more word of complaint from either of you this evening or, by Elbereth, you will both swiftly regret it."
For some reason, most of the other occupants of the cave seemed to find other things to busy themselves with, far away from the pair.
With that, Thranduil returned to his most pressing concern, the care of his son. That was where his priority lay at present and not with two incredibly selfish Elleth who cared for no one but themselves.
Doroniel could tell, from the way Thranduil's brow was knotted, that he must be in some pain. An intense headache would not surprise her. Those two were enough to cause one at the best of times.
"What will you do to them if they do make another complaint?" Doroniel could not help but ask as she turned back to the pale Elfling on the pallet before her.
"Make them sleep outside in the rain with no guard, or send them on their way to Imladris. The latter is the favoured choice right at this present moment, I am afraid." Thranduil once more rubbed his forehead absently.
Doroniel had not missed that small detail as she reached for Legolas' small brow. "You have a very bad headache." It wasn't a question. She hissed at the heat that rose to meet her hand. Thranduil had not spoken lightly when he said that Legolas was hot. This went beyond that and if they let this continue it would have deeply detrimental effects on the Prince.
"Yes, it is very bad, I have been hoping that it would ease, but it seems to be doing the opposite. Do you have a headache also?" Thranduil sounded as weary as he looked, but she knew better than to tell him to sleep, not with Legolas in his current condition.
"I will make you a tea that will help us both..." She allowed a small smile at the slip she had just made. She had just admitted that she felt as bad as the King did. Well there was no going back now. "Rithlin, is there any boiling water on the fire?"
"Yes, Doroniel do you need it?" Rithlin had already stood and reached for the pot.
"Yes, please, but we will need more than that. I need you to gather every pot in this cave. I need warm, hot and boiling water. Legolas ideally needs bathed to bring down his fever, but I dare not at present. His condition is too labile. I will also need cold water to add to the hot. Can all that be managed?"
Doroniel blinked. Almost as soon as the words 'need' and 'pot' had left her lips, Elves hurried to dig in their packs. They then came from throughout the cave carrying their personal cook pots. It seemed that nearly all of them carried one in their packs, just in case. They probably would have brought the larger stew pot, but it was already being used to cook the rabbits for the evening meal. They even stopped off at Ruthwen and Imles' places and brought theirs to use. The two of them, for once, sensibly kept quiet.
A couple of the guards gathered some of the pots and left the cave to get more water. It would not take long as there were numerous little rivulets of runoff not far from the cave's entrance.
With a shaky smile, she instructed Rithlin how to make the pain reducing tea that she and Thranduil would need. She was glad that her healer's pack had been left near Legolas' pallet, so it was easy to get to. She also made certain that there was enough tea made to give some to Legolas mixed with another herb, a much stronger herb than Thranduil had been using, to bring down his temperature.
With Thranduil's help, she fed Legolas the tea before they took their own. As Legolas was unconscious, he probably would not feel the bandages being changed, but she did not want to take that chance. When she was satisfied that she had given him enough of the tea, she had her own. Thranduil fumbled with his goblet and almost dropped it once more with a muffled oath before he followed her example and cradled the goblet in both hands to steady it. Even then, they both had trouble keeping their goblets stable.
She quickly finished her tea and began her examination of the Prince. "I will need a candle, if anyone has one? A torch will do, if not." Rithlin cried out, "I have one, just a moment." He dug into his pack once more.
Her initial assessment, as she just looked at Legolas, caused her heart to drop. The bruising and swelling around his head and eyes had deepened and showed up his pallor all the more. Had he been awake, he would have had trouble opening both eyes, they were so swollen. The bruising looked deep as well.
Gently, she opened his left eye. She could feel the stiffness of the usually elastic skin, another sign of the swelling that surrounded and flooded the surrounding tissue. In the light of the candle that was suddenly placed in her hand, courtesy of Rithlin, the pupil contracted and then, slowly, slowly expanded, far too slowly. She bit her lip before letting the eye close and reaching for the other. The pupil of the right eye opened and closed only a little faster than the other. This was not good at all.
Doroniel sat back, thinking, before she reached for the bandage that covered the wound in the middle of Legolas' forehead, half hidden in the golden hair. The bandage was stuck to the wound and it took a second for her to release it from the surrounding hair that it had become stuck to.
The sutures still held, but the swelling that radiated up the forehead covered over the wound, making the stitches look as if they were pulling painfully. She tested them gently, relieved when they held. The wound looked more inflamed than last time. What on Arda could cause this?
She used some of the warm water to clean the wound before she carefully applied a healing paste over the top. It would have to be kept open to the air. She dared not cover it as it was. While she cleaned the wound, she gently palpated the skin beyond the cut and for a moment, for one heart-
stopping moment, she thought she felt movement beneath her fingers. Shaking, she felt again and almost slumped with relief when she could only feel the swelling move and nothing else. She promised herself to keep an eye on that as she moved to the bandages that covered his small hands.
That was when she hit a major snag. To her acute embarrassment she found that her fingers would not co-operate enough for her to lift the bandages and peel them back. She could not feel much beyond the 'zinging' that had suddenly become a hundred times worse. It had started after she applied the cream to his head. There was no way that she could manage the bandage.
She thought out her options. Pride be damned, she had to look at the Prince's wounds and if she needed help doing that, then so be it.
"Rithlin, I am afraid I must ask for your help once again, Mellon-nin." She looked up at the other Elf.
"Of course, how may I help?" Rithlin had been hovering nearby, as had a lot of the other Elves that were meant to be resting.
In the background, Craban could be heard 'encouraging' Ruthwen and Imles to cut the meat into squares and add the herbs. He sounded as if he were teaching very young Elflings their first cooking lesson.
"Because my hands are tingling, I cannot feel the bandage to peel it back. I will need help with caring for the Prince's wounds, cleaning and dressing them. Do you feel able to help me? Aran Thranduil will be unable to help me as I know he suffers from the symptoms too. Is that not right, Hir-nin?" Doroniel would gladly admit to her own problems if it might encourage the King to admit his.
Thranduil reluctantly admitted it with a nod. "Yes, Doroniel, you are right, my hands and feet are very painful. You may need to check them once you have finished with Legolas." If Doroniel was not too proud to ask for help, he could as well. This was not normal circumstances after all. Normal circumstances did not find him sitting helpless in a cave with his guards covered in mud, with his son so badly injured that it scared him to watch him breathe, in case that breathing stopped.
No this was anything but 'normal'.
She peered at him sideways for a moment. "I was planning to, Thranduil. It seems neither of us is as well as we would like people to believe, are we? I will be much happier when Lord Elrond gets here and can look at both of us as well as these two. Rithlin, I need you to take down these bandages."
Thranduil and Doroniel watched as the warrior washed his hands and then gently began to unwind the bindings. Once they were off, he washed away the old herb paste before holding the small hands out for the healer to see.
They looked much as they had last time, no better but not as bad as she had feared they would be either. The burns were still red and now had small fluid-filled blisters in some places. The left hand was affected a bit worse than his right hand. There seemed to be a very light amount of mottled redness leading up his left arm as well that faded away above his elbow.
"You need to make a paste to put on his hands, I will instruct you. It has an antiseptic effect as well as healing. Hopefully, tomorrow his blisters will be less. At least the burns were not deep. They will not be a disability then."
She just hoped that the same could be said of Calandor's hands. She knew very well how good he was with his hands. She blushed at that thought, she had been thinking of how well he used his bow. She had! Where had that thought come from anyway?
She watched as Rithlin gently coated the small hands with the paste once it had been made to her satisfaction. They had made more than enough to treat Calandor's hands as well. She would see to examining him again after they had finished seeing to the Prince. When she noticed Lathron and Thoronhen sitting nearby, she called them over.
"I need more help than Rithlin alone will be able to provide. May I ask for your assistance? I want Aran Thranduil to continue to rest until I can look at him. The Prince needs his fever brought down. It is still far too high. Will you bathe him for me?"
The two Elves were more than happy to have something to do to aid their Prince and within minutes they began the process of washing Legolas down.
Doroniel turned her attention back to Rithlin. She watched with fascination as he gently but firmly bandaged the small hands. So, Bremoline was not the only one who was adept at healing. This was becoming very interesting.
Once the knot had been tied off, they turned their attention to Legolas' ankle. Just the sight of it was enough to make them all wince. The leggings were now pulled taught where the leg had swollen to almost twice its normal size. They would have to cut the leggings to get to the wound. Working in silence, Rithlin used his knife to slit the cloth of the leggings to just above the knee, using great care to not even touch the Prince with the sharp blade. Doroniel winced as the swelling was truly revealed. The swelling and bruises went all the way to the knee, it could be seen clearly where the bandage had grown so tight that it cut into the skin.
Doroniel had hoped that the swelling would not travel so far or so quickly. But then, given the Elfling's current condition and the lack of proper facilities, did she really expect any other to happen? The infection had spread fast earlier... Damn that Orc and his nauseatingly filthy claws!
"You will also need to cut the bandage very carefully with your knife. Almost as if you were skinning a rabbit. When you have slit the bandage, do not try to remove it yet, it will be stuck to the wound. Use some of the warm water to soak the bandages loose, it will take a while, once they are ready to come off, call me? I want to examine Aran Thranduil now."
Luckily, she would not have to move far as said person was actually right beside her. He had his face turned away, unable to watch, she realised sympathetically.
"How is your head now, Thranduil?" She was watching him closely, pleased that some of his pallor had receded a little.
"Better... well, just a little more manageable, and yours?" Thranduil gave her a wan smile.
"Likewise, better. How are your hands? May I see?" She gently took the proffered hands.
"How is my son?" Thranduil asked, almost pleadingly, as the healer palpated the skin of his hands.
"Poorly, I fear, but holding on well for now. How far does the tingling reach?"
"Above my elbows, but it is not all the same, some is very painful, in other areas it is just a minor irritant. When I touch things the tingling seems worse. I am sure that you are as much aware of it as I am." The King's blue eyes held a small devilish twinkle, a twinkle that had been missing for far too long. He was making an effort to be cheerful, she could tell.
"Yes, I am. This is caused by the lightning charge and all four of us would be suffering from this if we were all awake. It is unpleasant but I believe it will be temporary. I would like to see your feet now as well. I want to make sure there is no nerve damage as may happen in these cases. I also want to check that there are no burns. I fear that I did not think to check before. You may have to reciprocate, I am afraid." Doroniel was actually glad that she had not slipped her boots back on when she woke, her feet were so sore she did not think that it was a good idea to try.
"I would gladly do that for you, my lady. It is the least I can do." Thranduil was just pleased she was not trying to hide her own condition.
The little camp by the fire was one of industrious, calm activity as she watched with half an eye, waiting as Thranduil insisted he could remove his own boots. Elves were bringing both the heated and cooling water often, eager to help their Prince and friends with any means they could. She was very proud of them and could only imagine how Thranduil was feeling.
They were all certainly pulling together, even the other two ladies, though grudgingly, who were scowling at Craban as he instructed them on the preparation of the food. She had to look away for fear of laughing outright at the sight of Ruthwen peeling potatoes and other vegetables to add to the stew pot. It seemed now that Craban had them in his clutches, he was not letting them go until they had helped with all areas of the food preparation. It seemed the Elf was getting his own back for their earlier attitude, very subtly. He was treating them a bit like naughty Elflings, speaking to them with exaggerated patience and excessive politeness.
When Thranduil finally managed to wrestle his boots off with hands that did not cooperate, his feet were mottled in a shade of deep red. She had not expected anything else. They had both been kneeling in water after all. Luckily, there were no burns or blisters. The nerves that registered pain in the skin would have been damaged though, hence the pain, again not as bad as it could have been. Burns could have had a far worse effect than that. The nerves in the skin could have been destroyed and left with no feeling. As irritating as the pain and tingles were, she knew which she would prefer! Very likely, the tingling indicated that the nerves were already healing. It would just take time, how long, she had no way of knowing.
She gently, but awkwardly, spread some of the cream onto the bottom of Thranduil's feet, knowing that it would help with the burning pain, but not with the tingling. It was all she could do for now.
Once finished, she washed her hands and returned to Legolas while Thranduil struggled to replace his stockings. It did not miss her sharp eyes that he decided against wearing the boots again. She allowed herself a small smile. That would certainly be more practical.
Rithlin had just finished soaking the last of the bandages away when she turned her attention back to him. Under her instructions, he gently washed the remnants of the healing paste off before he stopped in shock, his face white. She was glad that Thranduil was still struggling with his stockings and did not see the true state of the small ankle. If the ankle had been swollen and bruised before, it was more so now. It was proof positive, if it were at all needed, that the Orc had pulled on the Prince's small leg with all its strength and twisted it to gain purchase to pull the terrified Elfling out of the tree. They were lucky that the bone had not broken and come through the skin, had that happened the outcome would have been grim and inevitable. The infection was much worse than it had been that morning. Instead of being a creamy off-yellow colour, it was now a deep green discharge and the smell!
"We will need to use fresh water after each cleaning and it must be warm. How much Athelas do we have left?" Doroniel was worried with just how bad this had become so quickly. Could the Orc's claws have been coated with a poison? She would not put it past the foul creatures.
"Enough for the next three days, perhaps. When we go out hunting next, I will look for more. It should be blossoming this time of the year and fresh is always better." Thoronhen sounded worried and distracted as he worked with Lathron to lower the Elfling's temperature.
"Yes it is. How is the fever?" Doroniel asked as she watched Rithlin with swift and sure hands clean the muck away. With every two swipes the water was changed and the soiled patches of cloth thrown on the fire to burn, the smell was that bad. Thranduil now watched, worry and fear plain on his face.
"Climbing, it is not good." Thoronhen commented.
"Can we not take him into the rain outside? Surely that would lower his temperature?" Rithlin was still working on the ankle. Doroniel sighed. Rithlin was young, but even so he would have had some healing training before he progressed into the Home Guard. Surely he would know? But then, he was relatively new to his position in the Home Guard and very inexperienced.
"That would only make matters worse. If cold water is used, it could send him into shock and he could die. That is why we are using tepid and warm water." The look of horror that crossed the dark-haired warrior's face would have been funny if it had not been so serious. "We will continue with the tepid sponging and herb treatments for now but we may have to reconsider. Rithlin, you are doing well, but the paste needs to be applied thicker than that and cover the entire ankle. That is better."
Rithlin did as she asked before she watched him slowly begin to bandage the thickened limb. "You will need to keep it slightly slackened, the limb may swell more and I do not want the circulation compromised."
In the background she could hear Craban organising a party to dig a hole outside the cave for the remains of the stag carcass since the meat had been removed for cooking and drying. That way the carrion eaters would not be attracted. She could hear him tell the two Elleth to stay and watch the pot and to make sure they stirred it every few minutes. He was still treating them like Elflings. This was too funny. The looks on their faces were such a picture.
"Doroniel, if you are finished for now, I need to check you over as you said. You will need to tell me what I am looking for though." Thranduil had to do something. This waiting was driving him mad with worry. She read the unspoken plea in the King's tired-sounding voice and agreed to take a moment for him to help check her over.
She was pleased to find that her injuries were relatively as minor as Thranduil's. Given a couple of days, they should be feeling better. She smiled in thanks as the King diligently smeared the healing cream over her feet, fumbling a little at times.
"Now we need to look at Calandor. Rithlin, may I impose? Can you two continue as you are with the Prince?" She looked at both Thoronhen and Lathron as she spoke.
"Of course." Lathron was wringing the cloth as he answered. "I am surprised that Captain Bremoline is sleeping so well. I would have expected him to have awoken by now."
"Bremoline had not slept in three days. It is good that he rests." Thranduil nodded at Lathron's comment. He knew it was made out of worry and nothing more, no disrespect or criticism had been intended.
"That is well. We will try to keep our noise down." This was said with a glare at the two Elleths who were sitting by the fire taking turns to stir the cook pot and sending dark glares at Craban's back where he could still be seen through the falling rain.
He was organising the burial of the carcass and the hole seemed to be filling with water as soon as it was dug. Doroniel froze. Could it be that simple? It would take a while to organise and Legolas' fever might break in the meantime, but being prepared would not hurt, would it?
"Thranduil, can I ask some of the guards to make a small shallow pit and line it with a cloak? If Legolas' fever becomes any higher we could soak him in warmed water and lower his temperature that way. We would have to hold his leg out of the water and be careful with him, but if it is needed, it would work." Doroniel was amazed that she could improvise like that but she would also be thanking Craban for the initial idea later.
The startled look on Thranduil's face changed to one of distinct pleasure. "That would work and it would help?"
"Yes it will, the cloak should hold the water in the shallow pit for long enough." Doroniel answered.
"Of course then, I will make sure that it is arranged. Where would be the best place for the pit?" Thranduil was already casting his gaze around the cave, looking for the perfect spot. It looked, for a long moment, that he would have the ladies moved once again, but he managed to ignore the temptation.
Before she could answer, a loud boom seemed to reverberate around the cave. They turned to the cave entrance in time to see the guards that had been outside run into the cave. They got there just in time, as the lightning flashed once more, causing them all to wince and hold their ears as the thunder resounded in the small cave once again.
Bremoline jerked upright to a seated position, eyes wide and awake, hand on the hilt of his sword, looking around for any possible enemy.
Thranduil was holding his hand against his chest. He turned and quickly spoke to reassure him. "Relax, Bremoline, it is only the storm. The weather is certainly behaving very strange, this constant rain seems unnatural. If I did not know better, I would say that someone was tampering with it. Return to sleep, Mellon-nin, all is safe and well."
Thranduil had not expected his soothing words to work, but then Bremoline did lay back down and he was soon asleep once more, his eyelashes dark against his pale skin. The Captain must have been exhausted. He was also sleeping with his eyes closed.
No one was aware of the slyly watching elleth or her small devious smile at the King's words. If only he knew... if only he knew. Soon her face had resumed the scowl she could produce as easily as the smiles or tears when she wished. She grumbled under her breath as she took her turn at stirring the pot. Oh yes, they would regret what they made her do. Once she had married and she was left in charge, things would change... she would make certain of that.
Once satisfied that Bremoline had returned to sleep, Thranduil turned back to Doroniel. "Where do you want the pit?"
"Near the fire would be best, for warmth. The last thing we need is for Legolas to become chilled on top of the fever. That would not help him, not with his body's resistance already so depleted." Doroniel had seen The King's speculative look at the ladies 'camp' and, tempting though it was to say to place it there, it was impractical.
"Good, I will arrange it." He looked around the cave and saw Craban once more talking to the ladies about how they should be stirring the cook pot and not groaning about their lot. "Craban, may I speak with you?"
"Of course, Aran-nin, how may I help?" He was at Thranduil's side immediately.
"Doroniel has asked that we prepare a small pit close to the fire so that, if necessary, we can soak Legolas and lower his temperature. While she looks at Calandor would you make certain that it gets done?"
The warrior was nodding enthusiastically. "Leave it with me, Aran-nin, I will sort it out." With a bow he turned and headed to a small group of guards sheltered at the cave entrance, watching as the storm played out its majestic force once more. There was a lot of lightning in these clouds.
"Sarnlome, may I have your assistance once more? Bring your shovel again. You'll be digging in here, not in the storm, never fear." Sarnlome was one of the guards who had helped him to bury the remains of the Stag and he did not seem enthusiastic to go back out in the storm.
Within minutes they brought their shovels and after a quick talk with Doroniel and Thranduil they began digging, exactly where they were told to. It did not take very long to form a small shallow pit just big enough for Legolas to be easily fit into if needed but not so large it would be hard to keep it filled with water to immerse him in. The cloak they lined it with was waterproof enough to hold the water for many minutes.
When the 'bath-pit' was finished to their satisfaction, they turned their attention to Calandor. Rithlin washed his hands once more in some of the fresh water, not even looking up when another pot was added to the fire. This had become a standard thing. Water was always being heated and replaced. It was necessary. Thank the Valar the weather was wet rather than drought. That could possibly have caused them all more problems than they realised.
Doroniel watched Rithlin closely as he removed the bandages from the archer's normally expressive hands. Wiping the paste away, he let the healer look at them. They were worse than Legolas' hands were, but that was no surprise. The blisters spread over most of his hands were large and the surrounding tissue raw.
Doroniel leaned forward to gently palpate the skin to see if there was any tissue damage. The first press did not have the effect they were all expecting. Calandor gave a long, low moan. It made them all start with surprise.
Doroniel scurried nearer to him. "Calandor? Calandor can you hear me?" Nothing, again she gently repeated the process, gently palpating the sore, burnt skin. It produced another moan. "Well, that was better than nothing. It was the first response to any stimulus we have got out of him since his seizure. I am hopeful that it means he might awaken soon." Everyone who heard seemed cheered by the news.
They returned to the examination of his hands. His burns were a combination of minor burns through to full thickness burns. They would take a lot of healing, but they would eventually heal. He would hold that magnificent bow once again. She made that promise to herself. She would make sure of that.
Under her eagle sharp eyes Rithlin gently applied the cream even more thickly than he had done for the prince before wrapping the hands tightly and gently laying them on his chest.
He then moved to Calandor's feet. Carefully removing the bandages, he found the burns there as bad as on his hands. Rithlin did as instructed earlier and soon they were finished bandaging them as well.
Doroniel moved up to check Calandor's pupil reactions. With a lightning strike, some sort of brain injury had to be suspected, his seizure had indicated it was a possibility. Rithlin was next to her, candle in hand, ready to gently lift Calandor's eyelid when a low eerie moan filled the cave. It was a moan like none of them had ever heard before and raised the hair on the back of their necks and arms. Lightning flashed nearby again, filling the cave with light. All turned towards the source of that sound...
OOOOOOO To be continued….
OOOOOOO
Translation from Sindarin Elvish (Forgive us if we get it wrong? We are still learning.)
Adar, ada father, dad Aran, Aran-nin King, My King Arda the world elleth maiden (Not sure of plural yet)
fea soul, spirit Hir, Hir-nin Lord, my Lord Las Leaf mellon-nin my friend pellin – fading, withering
Thank you to all our wonderful readers and reviewers, you are all great!
Replies to reviews:
Deana: Yes, our favourite Spiders. LOL. here you are!
Daw the minstrel: Or is it just that? The lightening? Could there be more going on? What or who could it it be? Or are we all reading more into it than there is? We were tempted with having them go out into the webs, but as much as we hate then we also need them... grrrr. She will not be calling him Brat for long... oh no...
Zammy: He will, we promise he will arrive. They are nasty aren't they? Bantha Podoo? LOL... hmmmm like that...
Mistopurr: You are right she will not change... we think. Thank you!
Brazgirl: Thannk you so much.
Mystkyten: Thank you. Yes, they are going through a lot at present. I have both seen and felt that helplesness.
Shiver. I hope your daughter is alright now? LOL why oh why does every one hate Ruthwen? Blinks bewlidered.
Kel: Thank you!
Well that is all for now see you all very, very soon!
Love,
SSS