Chapter 6
The child had only been moved from the Halls of Healing the previous day. Thranduil was happy that the child was finally physically better.
The elves had learned of the fractured mind of the child. Tom could without warning change from animated happiness to stillness as he disappeared into his own mind. The unexplainable switches between childish wonder and morbid curiosity also indicated a not fully sound mind. To understand better they had asked Tom of his past, but the tiny human was stubbornly reluctant to give much information of his past. All they knew at this point was his name.
Tom had decided that soft beds were quite nice. It was nice to get to lay down in a nice soft bed after a nice day. It really had been a nice day. Except for that morning when one of the pretty girl elves had tried to dress him in a green shirt. After that he had hidden under his bed until Pretty Man came and promised that he would not have to wear the green shirt. He had instead gotten a bright yellow shirt. It was just like the sun making him happy.
Except from the small disturbance in the morning, the day had been great. After breakfast an elf had brought Tom to the gardens. Pretty Man had introduced the elf to Tom, but Tom had forgotten the name half way to the gardens. Instead he had internally named the elf Stuck. This was because this particular elf had an even more stuck up expression (or maybe that was just his facial structure) than the generally haughty look of the other elves. The gardens where filled with flowers of all colours. Some gardens where arranged in complicated patterns, the flowers arranged in graceful displays. However Tom liked the gardens in which the flowers had been placed in artistic imitation of randomness much better.
Stuck had told Tom all about the life of the gardens. The names of the flowers, the bushes and the threes. He did not seem to mind that Tom easily forgot the names and repeatedly asked for the names of the same plants. Thus Tom learned of how some of the plants could be used as spices, for healing, as perfume, in food or as poison. The last piece of information was only added at Tom's insistent prompting. The Greasy Bat liked poisons, and Tom thought that he, maybe, liked the Greasy Bat, thus Tom must also like poisons. Therefore he had to know all there was to know of poisons.
The child seemed to have a morbid curiosity for knowledge relating to destruction. All morning Séregon had been questioned on whether excessive consumption of this plant could cause 'belly ache' or if that flower would make you 'sleep, sleep and not wake up'. The human was a very curious child. This would normally be a preferable trait, except Tom seemed unnaturally focused on the darker uses of the great gardens. Nevertheless Séregon found that he was unable to blaim the child. How could it know what was appropriate, when it had likely grown up among the foulest of creatures? It was only luck that had ensured that the child was not more broken than it was, after all that which it had been though.
A not very soft knock brought Tom out from his misty head, where he had been talking to sad black cloaks, which were so miserable that they made everyone around them miserable too. 'Tom, there is someone here who wishes to meet you ' Pretty Man said as he entered Tom's room. Following Pretty Man a quite girly not girl entered. The blond not girl knelt at the side of Tom's very soft, nice bed. 'Hello Tom. My name is Legolas. It is very nice to meet you'. Legolas smiled at Tom. 'nice like my bed?'. Tom doubted anyone would find meeting Tom as nice as his soft bed, but he still had to ask.