Erestor watched carefully as the masons were setting the middle course of the new bridge. It was only three weeks ago that the recovering warriors had diverted the Bruinen to set the footings for this bridge. Many, including himself, had set aside their swords to embrace the healing that this new dawn of peace brought forth. Lord Elrond both welcomed and encouraged their endeavors in creating their new home. But, he mused, it was designed to be accessible only by way of the bridge. The great cliffs rested behind the main house, and protected the inhabitants by their sheer altitude. Even though there was peace now, it was still prudent to oversee the security of this new realm and potential incursions in the future.
Lord Elrond had created quite a stir among the elven leaders when he refused to accept the throne in the high king's stead; many of the elves respected this decision, but there were a few who considered him weak. After all, his twin had become the first king of men; it should have been his destiny. Only a few, including himself, knew why Elrond had chosen against the throne.
His ponderings were interrupted as he watched the young peredhel approach. She was a quiet child and seemed to be making gains in their language. Her recovery had been as slow and pained as his had been; but unlike the warriors that worked before him, she did not complain as her shoulder had healed. He didn't understand what affinity she had for him, but she had stayed by him as they both recovered, and she was very concerned for his well-being.
Lord Elrond and he had spoken many times about her and her skills, her mixed heritage, where she had come from, and what they would do with her. It was ironic that their decision was made when she had dumped a bowl of gruel over the younger healer's head.
She stopped in front of him and offered him a small package. "You is hungry?" she asked quietly.
Nodding, he gently corrected her, "Yes, Kate. I am hungry. Are you hungry?"
"Yes, I am hungry," she answered as she accepted his correction.
Would you like to share lunch with me?" he asked slowly enough for her to understand.
Kate eagerly accepted and sat down beside him on one of the rock piles. She reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a similar package of nuts and berries. Picking daintily over the package, she slowly ate the tart berries first.
Erestor smiled as he watched her. His memories shifted back to the events that led to their fateful decision to bring her to the valley. During his recovery, he was being forced to endure yet another bowl of gruel as the healer spoon fed him. His meal was interrupted as the elfling approached with a bowl of gruel and berries. Waiting patiently, she held the bowl out to the healer and said something to him in her language. In response, the healer had told her to return to her bed and he would tend her in a few minutes. Clearly, neither the healer nor the child understood each other, but she persisted by offering her bowl again to the healer. It was reasonably clear that she wanted him to be fed the berries, and to be truthful, it looked better that what he was presently consuming.
"Bregolan, I think that the elfling is trying to share with me. Please let me try her berries," he pleaded quietly.
"The child is not a healer. Master Istuil has specifically chosen your meals to facilitate your recovery. She is too young to understand the complexities of diet and healing," he dismissed, as waved the child away.
At first, she seemed a bit surprised at the dismissal, but she persisted by saying something again and pointing to Erestor then at her bowl. She was emphatic about the food and even ate a spoonful of it in front of the healer.
Erestor watched as Bregolan was less than patient and put his food down. Turning to the elfling, he stood up and attempted to guide her back to her bed. In a classic contest of wills, she stood there, stared up at the healer and shook her head negatively while arguing with him in her language. It was rather amusing to see her stand up to him, with her eyes flashing; until Bregolan made the fateful mistake of trying to pick her up and carry her to the bed. The elfling narrowed her eyes and with a snap of her wrist dumped the gruel over Bregolan's head and stalked her way over to her cot and sat.
The uproar that ensued was nothing less that total entertainment for all of the bed-ridden patients over the next few minutes. Bregolan stood still for a fraction of a second, then tried to wipe the gruel from his hair as he danced around the tent and roared about impudent elflings needing to be disciplined. The master healer, Istuil, walked in as Bregolan was hopping, and sidestepped quickly as the younger healer fell into a pile of soiled linens. The convalescing warriors chuckled or laughed outright to see the haughty young healer put into his place by an elfling.
"Bregolan, what is the meaning of this chaos?" the healer asked quietly.
"That, that elfling is uncontrollable," he sputtered as he pointed to the cot that the girl sat on. "She is impudent and does not follow directions. And, and, she dumped her bowl of gruel on me."
Istuil surveyed the scene and noted that Erestor was attempting not to laugh and the girl was glaring at the novice healer from her cot. When he caught her attention, she looked at the floor guiltily. "Indeed, she did. Clean yourself, and we will speak later," he directed. When Bregolan had left, he turned his attention to the Noldor lord.
"Lord Erestor, would you enlighten me as to what has occurred in my healing tent?" he asked quietly.
Erestor looked at the healer, then to the elfling on the cot. He watched as her eyes followed Bregolan's departure, and then made contact with his. Nodding to her, he beckoned for her to come to him. When she did, he turned to the healer and recounted the child's efforts to share her gruel with him and Bregolan's responses.
Istuil stood with his arms folded and listened to the young lord's retelling. He pondered this quietly for a moment then directed the child to get her overturned bowl by gesturing and pointing. When she complied, he looked at the reminder of the contents and then the child. Sniffing the bowl, he noted that the gruel had contained berries that were known to aid in healing. Shaking his head, he knew that any explanations as to how she acquired these berries would not be forthcoming. He also knew that she had a sedate disposition, and that she would not have reacted so strongly unless she was provoked; indeed, she was always trying to be helpful and supportive of Lord Erestor and the other patients. He, himself, had observed her rolling bandages on many occasions, and even helping bathe the faces of the more seriously wounded.
She was an enigma, and if the truth were to be known, he was pleased that she had reacted in such a manner. Her reactions showed that she was recovering well and that she shared the sentiments that many of the elves felt towards his novice healer. The only difference was that her youth was an acceptable excuse to tolerate what everyone else had wanted to do to Bregolan for the past few weeks. Keeping up his stern façade, he nodded to Erestor and left to speak with Lord Elrond about the youngling.
Later that evening, Elrond and Erestor spoke at length about Kate. They pondered what her fate would be in the men's encampments, given her lack of ability to communicate. She was a bright child and was eager to please, but the most notable trait that she had was her utter devotion to Erestor. She did not seem to have a young or romantic love; it was more of a filial and protective love toward the Noldor lord. From the time she first protected him on the battlefield up to today's event with Bregolan, she displayed a true affinity for the elder. Reflecting on this information as well as the fact that she was born to mixed parentage, they decided to mutually accept guardianship of her and raise her with the elves. They did not know how long of a lifespan she would be graced with, but they would keep her safe and teach her in the manner of elfkind.
Now, as she sat beside him, he was able to share this simple meal and gauge her happiness. She had settled into her new life with the elves and learned quickly. The youngling rapidly became a favorite of the elves who cooked and the apprentice healers, as she would often do menial tasks to help them. They in turn would help her learn their language and patiently correct her mistakes or strangely accented words. Only he and Lord Elrond knew her true age to be about twenty one summers. To keep peace, they let everyone make their same original assumption that she was in her early forties.
