Once he was sure his charge was deeply unconscious, Glinkuil began his work.
The apprentice draped fresh linen across Elrond's chest, leaving the infected area of the wound clear and then removed the temporary dressing. The pad was already stained yellow and he dropped it into a large bowl.
"Lord Glorfindel. If you please, I would like you to aid me while my assistant monitors Elrond's condition."
Glorfindel took up the indicated position, opposite the healer and the younger elf placed himself at Elrond's head, fingers resting lightly beneath their charge's chin to monitor the life flow there.
Glinkuil's murmured, "Are we all ready?" received a soft assent from his assistant and a tight nod from Glorfindel. He took up the scalpel and neatly slit the delicate stitches. At once, the smell grew stronger and the two sides of the wound spread stickily open. It was obvious that no healing had yet happened in this area.
Glorfindel swallowed back his rising bile and watched as Glinkuil cut more stitches, until he began to encounter the firm pink of more healthy flesh.
"Sop the wound, Glorfindel. We must remove the pus to determine what damage lies beneath."
As Glinkuil turned to wash his hands again and select a fresh scalpel, Glorfindel used some of the many small squares of waiting linen so soak up the putrid mess, dropping them distastefully into the waiting basin when they were finished. The sickly stench pervaded the entire pavilion now and even the guards outside began to shift uneasily.
Glinkuil waited impassively until the wound was clear, bending closer to examine it when Glorfindel laid aside the last cloth.
"See here? The areas of blackness are where the flesh has died. I must excise these areas and then wash the entire area clean."
For a few minutes Glorfindel forgot his nausea as he watched in fascination. Glinkuil wielded his knife with extreme precision, removing the damaged areas and the tiniest of margins to ensure he missed nothing. As he removed each section he nodded approval as fresh clean blood welled and Glorfindel had to keep swabbing the area to enable him to see the next. Gradually, the red soaked cloths covered the yellow green tinged ones and Glorfindel took that as a good sign.
When he could see no more discoloured flesh, Glinkuil sluiced the wound with fresh water and packed it with ground athelas. Then he took up needle and thread.
"I shall suture this area only loosely to enable me to keep checking it for a while and allow drainage if it is necessary."
Now that he could relax once more, Glorfindel's body began to make its revulsion at the proceedings he had just witnessed felt. He swallowed several times as he watched the large, curved needle stab the edges of the wound, and before he could even voice warning he ran from the tent.
Some time later Glorfindel sat back, accepting sheepishly the damp cloth Glinkuil's apprentice held out to him. He glanced up as he wiped his face, finding only sympathy in the young elf's features.
"The first time I attended such a surgical procedure I was sick too. You at least waited until it was over. I had to be carried from the room."
Accepting the youngster's help to rise, Glorfindel straightened his clothing. "I think I would rather face an orc and they smell bad enough. You have my admiration for dealing with this every day. What is your name?"
The apprentice ducked his head in embarrassment at praise from the legendary balrog slayer. "Eithel, my lord."
"Thank you, Eithel. Now, we had better go back and see what we can do to help your master and mine." With a squeeze of Eithel's shoulder, Glorfindel lead the way back to the pavilion.
Glinkuil had opened flaps at the front and back of the tent to allow fresh air through when the two returned and Glorfindel felt the healer's eyes upon him as soon as he entered. "Wash your hands thoroughly."
Glorfindel did as he was instructed and turned to find the silver cup held out to him this time.
"Mint tea. It will settle your stomach."
Glorfindel waved it away. "A momentary lapse. I am well enough."
The cup maintained its position in front of him. "Then drink it because it tastes good and will cover the smell."
Accepting it, Glorfindel inhaled the steam deeply as Eithel exited with the covered bowl of soiled dressings, tossing them on the fire outside. He sipped the fresh tasting tea and could not stop a small sigh of relief as it worked to unknot his stomach muscles at once.
Elrond lay still beneath his clean sheet, as he had done throughout the entire procedure, and Glorfindel had to reassure himself that he still breathed, watching as the sheet rose and fell slightly with each light breath. His friend seemed almost peaceful, were it not for the sheen of perspiration that now slicked his shoulders and face.
Glinkuil reached to brush a stray strand of dark hair from Elrond's brow before laying a cool damp cloth upon it. He answered Glorfindel's unspoken query.
"I think we caught the infection in time. It was limited to a small area. There will be a fever, however, until his body fights off the sickness that has already entered his blood. We should wait here until it breaks and send on the remainder of the injured to the Tower of the Sun. I understand that they have very skilled healers there."
Glorfindel continued to sip his tea, loathe to take his eyes from his friend. "The men will be taken there, but our people will be making for Lothlorien. We will not stay in the city."
"I would be only too pleased to see my home but Minas Tirith is closer . . ." Glinkuil was cut off.
"Our people will not stay in the city. We make for the peace and sanctuary of our own kind in Lothlorien."
The firmness of Glorfindel's tone silenced all Glinkuil's further protests and he turned back to cleansing and repacking his surgical kit.
TBC.
To The Reviewers.
Ceriandra - Thank you. I like cookies
Meril - A very nasty infection. Yum!
The Oboist of Lorien - You made me giggle out loud. Lots more pus for you here.
Mews - Bless you.
Peleus 15 – If you're doing any Elrond hugging the line forms behind me. ;)
Arialas - There's not enough Elrond angst around so I wrote my own.
Jaimi - Thank you. I wish Tolkien had written Elrond's story.
Shirebound - I try to mix comfort with my angst.
