Chapter 4

Recovering

After he had washed and eaten his dinner, Elrond returned to the healing tent. With all of his patients sleeping, he decided to sit and watch the elfing sleep for a while. Istuil joined him and they spoke quietly, exploring the possibilities of how she could have come to a battlefield. Both elves settled onto makeshift stools and studied her petite features and darker complexion.

"Master Elrond, she bears a resemblance to the Noldor, but she also looks like she is of the second born. Her bone structure suggests that she is a daughter of men, but her features are decidedly elven. I would dare say that she even looks like Lord Erestor around her jawline, but I do not know how this could be possible."

"Aye, she looks as if she is of mixed blood; but I am curious as to how. The Valar have only blessed the unions of my forebearers to bring about my brother and me. You are right though, my friend, she does bear resemblance to the Noldor, and even to Lord Erestor."

Istuil thought for a few moments, before voicing his concerns. "How do you think she came to be in the middle of this battle? She did not act as a spy would, nor do I think that she is old enough to be a spy. Certainly, the warriors and men would have noticed a child in their ranks. I am also curious as to her clothing, as no self-respecting elleth or daughter of man would be dressed thusly, and where did she learn the healing arts that she possesses?"

Elrond looked at his friend sharply for a moment, memories of his own past washing over him. "You bring up the same questions that I ponder, my friend. Her existence is a mystery that only the Valar can answer – for I feel that the answer indeed lies with them.

Given that she is of mixed parentage, she will undoubtedly have skills at a younger age than most elves. Well I remember my own past, living between two worlds and never quite fitting into either. My brother and I had the early maturity of men, but the physical grace of elves as we moved from elflings to adults. I fear it is the same with this one as well."

"My apologies, Master Elrond. I did not mean to question you or your noble heritage. I simply do not understand how the aging of peredhel occurs. Have you any idea about what we are going to do with her? We are leagues from any enclaves, and there are not many ellyth around to help with her. We can not even properly attire her."

Elrond smiled briefly. "No offense taken, my friend. Given that there are no other resources available, I would feel the responsibility to care for her. I do not think that she would fare well with other elves at this point; she does not even seem to know our language, nor do I think that it would be fair to leave her in Cirdan's or Gildor's care, excellent as both options may be."

Kate woke to soft rustling sounds moving about her. Opening her eyes, she noted that one of the elves was leaving the tent. She studied the room intently and sighed when her eyes fell upon the elf that was supposed to be her brother. He was two cots over from her and seemed to be resting well. Makeshift medical tents were all the same, and at least she understood them and their makeup.

As she further studied her environment, she noted two things. First, her entire shoulder was bound tightly with some sort of gauze, the second was that she wasn't wearing anything that was even remotely appropriate to moving around in. Her BDU's were gone and replaced with a large type of simple shirt. Testing her arm, she found that her mobility on that side was completely restricted.

Memories of the dark haired man, elf, rushed back upon her. He seemed to be in authority, and brooked no opposition when it came to examining her. She could tell that he tried to be gentle, but the pain was excruciating when his fingers probed her wound. As she remembered the pain from before, she became aware of the throbbing in her shoulder. It was worse than any pain she had ever felt – far worse from the pain she had when she broke her leg, at twelve.

Kate was brought back to present when she heard her new brother moan. He moved his head slightly and was beginning to come back to consciousness. She looked around and seeing no one in attendance, knew that he would wake alone. It was agony to sit up, but somehow she maneuvered herself up and wavered a bit before getting her strength. The pain in her shoulder moved from throbbing to sheer agony, and although she didn't cry out, the tears fell easily and silently from her eyes. Slowly and methodically she stood, before she staggered the five steps to his cot. She looked at him as she sank to the ground, and rested a few moments before taking his hand.

"Be still, brother. I don't know you, but I know that we are family," she whispered, as she touched her head to his hand. After a few minutes, she looked up and met his deep brown eyes with her own blue set.

Erestor woke up to the soft whisper of a voice, and stared into the eyes of a young elleth. Elleth? He felt a feeling of familiarity with her, and then realized that this was the same elleth that helped him after he was nearly cleaved in two by the accursed dwarf. He looked down briefly and saw that his legs and hips were still attached to his trunk, so all was well; but the pain was nearing intolerable. He tried to speak to her, but all that came out was a raspy whisper, "Thank… you…"

Kate started at the rasp he made. He sounded very hoarse, but was it from pain or from lack of water, she wondered. Looking about, she saw a small urn of water on the table and reached for it. Using her good hand, she was able to maneuver a cup into the vicinity of the spout, and she poured a small bit for him. She bit back a cry when her shoulder protested, but she continued and lifted the cup to his mouth. He seemed eager to drink, then nodded gratefully as she poured it very slowly into his mouth. When he was done, he nodded again.

Erestor wondered who the young elleth was. He didn't really think that she was pretty or stunning – instead, she seemed to be a bit plain. Looking at her, he contemplated that her hair was dark and her features were very angular, but surprisingly, her eyes were blue. All in all, she didn't have the daintiness that was normally attributed to ellyth, but he could see gentleness and compassion in her eyes. As he tried to talk to her, she seemed surprised; but then reached for some water for him. She winced a bit, and he realized that she also had been wounded in the battle. By the way that she favored her side, he guessed that her shoulder had been injured.

Kate sat with her brother and watched him as he stared up at her. Finally, she smiled and retook his hand into hers. He seemed to settle down quickly and drifted off after a few more minutes. Kate reached for the cup and took a long drink, only to realize that it was not water that she had given the elf. It was a clear liquid that had a slightly bitter taste. With a start, she realized that this was the same medicine that someone had given to her, when she had awoken earlier. Sighing, she reached back to her brother and brushed the hair from his face. She tried to get up, but the pain was too severe, so she sat against the legs of the cot and reflected about her new brother. Would he accept her? Her last thoughts as she drifted off were about that being, Aule, interfering in her life and who her father was.

Istuil hurried back to the tent. He relieved Bregolan for the mid day meal and was a bit irritated that the novice healer did not wait for either him or Master Elrond to come to the tent. When he entered, he peered around and noted that all the patients were resting peacefully – except one. Where was the elfing? Before he could look further, he heard the soft rustle of the tent flap behind him. Hoping and praying to the Valar that it wasn't Master Elrond, he wasn't surprised to find that it was. His luck never held out…

"Istuil, where is our elfling?" he intoned deeply. Looking slowly around the room, Elrond stopped at the sight before him. Curled up to Erestor's cot, the elfling slept peacefully on the ground while still holding the young warrior's hand. The battle-weary warrior in him melted at such a sight of pure innocence as was before him. With all of the horror that his mind endured over the past age, this one precious site would be forever burned into his mind and begin his own recovery – the act of an elfling's love selflessly given to a wounded warrior.

Istuil stood in shock to see the elfing on the ground. What affinity did this elleth hold for Lord Erestor? Blinking away his surprise, he walked over to the warrior and checked his bandages and breathing. He noted that Master Elrond gently carried the elfling back to her bed and examined her as well. Istuil could see that her bandages were askew, and went to retrieve new bandages for both his and Master Elrond's work.

Elrond noted that the elleth's stitches did not pull after her short expedition to Erestor's cot. He thought that it was odd that she didn't wake, until Istuil pointed out that the pain draught was nearly empty and the cup was on the floor. It seemed that she and Erestor had both drank a fair amount without a healer's supervision. He would have to talk to the novice healers about leaving their charges unattended.