Xxxxxxx Shell Cottage xxxxxxX
"You are needed. Put aside any imagined slights. I coaxed them both to write you a letter. Elrond was so young then, having just survived the war, and was dealing with the consequences of their choice. He was unsure and heart sore. How could he remember you? He was five years old the last time he saw his father. He was but ten when he last felt his Mother's mind brush his. No elf has complete recollection of those early childhood years. You should hope that he no longer bears clear recollections of that time. You should be thankful. The fall of Sirion and the early time of captivity were horrors enough."
"You said that Maglor loved and cared for the boys." Elwing's face went white with anger.
"Eventually, he did. But the other elves of Himring held great prejudices against those not of pure Noldor descent. Peredhil did not rank high in their esteem." Arafinwë was fast losing his patience. "You lost your chance to parent the boys three ages ago. With Elbereth's blessing, others stepped into your place to love and protect them. They grew into amazing adults who you can be very proud of. Now, finally, one has been returned to you. Do not squander the opportunity to cherish and help him now." He emphasized the last part before turning. "I must go. Olórin and Olwë are waiting for me." Arafinwë left the cottage quickly. Elwing and Eärendil stared at each other, at a loss for words. Instead, Elwing poured some wine and handed her husband a glass. It was sometime before either of them spoke. They were thinking on the letter written some six thousand years ago and long since turned to dust.
"Arafinwë encouraged them to write," Eärendil repeated. "I thought they might not remember, but I hoped otherwise."
"It was a tumultuous time in their lives. Their letters were most gracious given that they barely remembered us." Elwing recalled the words in a new light, given Arafinwë's revelations. "How could he need our help now?"
"He waited far too long to sail. At the very least, he suffers from the sea longing and appears to be fading." Eärendil divulged. "Would he wish to see us? Should we wait for him to send word?"
"Should it not be us who takes the first step?" Elwing's voice wavered. "Especially if he is ill?"
Xxxxxxxxx Guest Suites in the Palace xxxxxxxX
Idril gently caressed her grandson's hand. She reflected on all she had heard as she considered these long fingers, which had been strong in war, sure in healing, and wise in governing. He was one used to giving and was less comfortable about receiving. Indeed, she thought with a smile, he was dumbfounded by their love and concern, clearly more worried about the two small hobbits than about his own condition. He considered these injuries, suffered over so many wars, and the culmination of bearing a ring of power for over an age of this world, a small price to pay for keeping his people safe. Her heart swelled with pride at his accomplishments even as she marveled at his humble and generous nature. Celebrían had asked her and Tuor to stay with Elrond while she went to see Olwë and Arafinwë. Healer Idhrendes said Elrond was in a deep restorative healing sleep and, given the strength of the draught, should not feel any pain. Yet, Idril's heart twisted in concern each time she saw a grimace pass over the handsome features. She could understand Celebrían's wish that he not be left alone. She thought back with a sigh of regret about the conversation with her husband a few days ago.
"Our son will come." Tuor had been sure he would be there, although they had not seen their son in nearly a yen. Eärendil spent precious little time among elves. It was rumored that the Valar had released him from his duties on the Vingilot. But why, then, were they not here? Why did their son not come?
"We will see him well." Tuor squeezed her hand and then turned to stroke Elrond's dark head. "He has Elwing's hair."
"I think it is the mark of Lúthien's line," Idril observed.
"Where do you think Celebrían has gone off, too?" Tuor asked. She had that look—of one who is single-minded and determined." Idril and her husband exchanged true smiles. Elrond had been blessed with a wonderful, loving wife. They both sent a prayer to Elbereth to watch over their grandson.
Xxxxxxx Olwë's receiving room xxxxxxX
"They are expecting the ring bearers." Olórin reminded them.
"They would have chosen an easier place to access if they were truly expecting those who had fought to destroy Sauron." Arafinwë disagreed. His father-in-law raised an eyebrow, for he had allowed uncharacteristic annoyance creep into his voice. Arafinwë had enough of this discussion. Having glimpsed briefly the letters from Celeborn, he wanted to tend to his daughter. Olwë sparred a glance at his sons, whose impatience was readily seen. A knock on the door disturbed his next thought.
"The Lady Celebrían wishes to speak to you." The page announced.
"Send her in." Olwë was surprised to see his granddaughter had entered while he was speaking and even more surprised to see her richly attired as if for a public audience with the High King.
"I will accompany you to see the Valar – to represent my husband. When are we going?" Olwë was amused to see that the flash of her eyes was like Galadriel or, perhaps, Finwë. Arafinwë's expression told him that he had noted this as well. Celebrían had been a docile, frightened wraith for the first few years after her arrival. It took months before Eärwen could coax her from her room at Olwë's royal estate on Tol Eressëa. Later, her uncle Galathil won her trust and love. Between the efforts of the healers, Eärwen and Galathil, she gradually recovered and found her equilibrium and purpose again. Now, she was driven by a new purpose.
"We will go in an hour," Olwë said authoritatively. Meet us in the atrium." To Olwë's surprise, his son-in-law Arafinwë, dashed from the room, although his sons were not far behind.
Arafinwë could sense Eärwen's worry. It took all his willpower not to run through the corridor. His guards sensed his worry and kept pace with him. A single glance was all it took to convey to them that no one else should enter. With that order, Arafinwë closed the door to his family's suite behind him. Findaráto and Eärwen's sweet voices swept over him. They were in the final stanza of a traditional song of renewal. He moved past the sitting room and peered into the first chamber. His daughter lay immobile with eyes closed on the bed. A golden glow emanated from Findaráto, nay Finrod, as he automatically corrected himself. The healing glow encompassed Galadriel. Eärwen sat on the bed beside her daughter, gently stroking the golden head. She rose upon seeing her husband and let him take her place. Arafinwë bent to kiss his daughter's cheek, then slowly assessed her spirit. After some moments, he rose and motioned them out to the sitting room. Galadriel was in a deep, healing sleep, and it would be sometime before she woke. Finrod gently closed the door behind them.
"Celeborn sent letters that shed some light on the injuries to her spirit." He opened the leather case and shared them with his wife and son.
Xxxxxx The Shell Game Room xxxxxxxX
"What kind of game is that?" Frodo asked. He tried to stay calm while the healer inspected his neck and the back of his shoulders. Mistress Silsi spoke very quickly in Quenya to the new healer, a tall, serious Noldor.
"May I?" The healer held his hands out. Frodo shivered at the intensity of the healer's dark eyes.
"Who are you?" Frodo's voice shook slightly with apprehension. Having a healer inspect the wound that Shelob inflicted was never pleasant. Master Tarwatirno immediately sensed his discomfort.
"Master Frodo, it is my honor to serve you." The healer smiled gently. "I am Tarwatirno, Arafinwë's master healer. Lord Elrond and Lady Silsilalda have apprised me of your hurts. If there is anything we can do here to help, be at ease that we shall. May I?" The healer held his hands out but made no move towards Frodo. Frodo nodded slightly. Tarwatirno came forward and slowly assessed Frodo's neck, shoulder, and spirit. The pain was evident in Frodo's eyes. Bilbo sat near the bay window, tense at his nephew's distress. Silsilalda sought to employ gentle distraction.
"I heard this room was furnished originally for play and relaxation." She smiled as Frodo scanned the shell room. "Children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and many more descendants have supposedly christened this as the place to have fun."
"What is that table covered with a rug and balls?" Bilbo asked.
"You will have to ask the Prince to explain it. I am not familiar with such a game." Silsilalda paused. "There is also a shell cottage on the property that is another favorite spot to relax."
"I would like to go there." Frodo shivered slightly as he felt the healer's touch.
"I heard it is a good walk from here along the beach." Silsilalda looked over at Bilbo. "Once you feel better, we might try to stay there for a few days." Frodo and Bilbo were both interested in the prospect and spent awhile discussing it while Tarwatirno finished his examination. The healer stepped back to make notes in a folder containing details of Frodo's health since he was injured at Amon Sûl. Frodo fell silent as the healer wrote. Then he finally drew in a deep breath and inquired.
"Did you detect any of the spider's stinger left?" Tarwatirno looked up at him with a serious expression.
"Be at ease, Master Frodo. There are no foreign bodies left in the wound. Lord Aragorn, Master Elrond, and Lady Silsilalda have cared for you well. But I sensed deep disruptions to your fëa and hurt of the psyche."
"Then there is to be no healing for me?" Frodo lamented.
"You will find healing. Do not fear. Healing of the fëa is slower and best accelerated in the fresh air of Lórien. Elrond's wife, the Lady Celebrian, suffered deep hurts like this. I oversaw part of her healing. We may also try to seed the regrowth of your finger. This should be possible, though you will be the first hobbit ever treated."
"See my boy!" Bilbo cried happily. "We have come to an amazing place."
"Is Lórien far?" Frodo was not sure he was ready for another journey.
"We will rest here for some weeks before setting out for Lórien," Tarwatirno told them. Lady Galadriel will also require healing, which is only to be found in there.
"And Master Elrond?" Bilbo asked astutely. Silsilalda noted the pause before Tarwatirno answered.
"I do not know if he will be well enough to accompany us at that time or if," the healer paused to choose his words carefully. "He may follow later."
Xxxxxxxx Hall by the Guest Suites xxxxxX
"How is he?" Erestor approached Cirulian, who was standing guard at the door to their Lord and Lady's suite.
"Silsilalda was pleased that they called a healer from Lórien, who is an expert in ailments of the heart and circulatory system." Erestor was surprised that Cirulian was unusually forthcoming. The guard was never one to offer extra information. "But Healer Idhrendes was greatly concerned by his condition and wanted to consult Lórien. She gave him a potent sleeping draught and left strict orders that he not be disturbed. Celebrían went to see Olwë and Arafinwë. If I were to guess, I think Celebrían will consult Idhrendes' Lord first." Erestor's eyebrows rose to great heights at this information.
"Is Elrond now alone?"
"His grandparents watch over him."
"Do you want to go eat and take some rest? I can guard our Lord." Erestor offered.
"You can keep guard with me." Cirulian folded his arms across his chest. He was obviously not moving from this space.
"Do you think two guards are needed in the Palace of Olwë?" Erestor gaped. Cirulian just raised an eyebrow. "Point taken. I shall keep watch with you until Celebrian returns." They stood there nearly an hour before a tall golden golden-haired elf approached. Neither moved to let him pass, for they did not recognize Eärendil.
"I seek Lord Elrond."
"He is not accepting visitors at this time." Erestor said softly.
"Erestor Canfaronion, your Adar visited us in Gwaelindë when he was first reimbodied. Let us pass to see our son." Erestor turned to the dark-haired Peredhel with wide eyes. Elwing had stepped up next to her husband.
"My Adar has been reborn?" Erestor was shocked by the news.
"And reunited with your Naneth. They live outside of Tol Eressëa."
"Did you send word that we were coming here?" Erestor gasped. Elwing blushed slightly. She did not think to inform Canfaron that his son would be coming to Alqualondë, although they had heard weeks ago from the Valar. Elwing was saved from replying by the door opening.
"Keep your voices low," Tuor said, motioning them inside. Erestor, Elwing, and Eärendil followed, though Eärendil seemed displeased to have Elrond's advisor included in Tuor's invitation. Cirulian bowed and remained on guard.
"Ion-nin, why were you delayed?" Tuor drew Eärendil into an embrace and spoke quietly. "Your son and daughter-in-law are truly amazing people." Eärendil was silent as Idril closed the door to the bedroom and walked to greet him.
"Years with no word. We worried for you, ion-nin. I heard the Valar released you from your duties. I thought you would come to Tirion."
"There were so many changes to deal with first." Elwing intervened for her husband, who squeezed her hand in thanks. "But we are here now." Idril nodded, then turned to greet Erestor.
"Your parents should be on their way, Erestor. Celebrian sent word as soon as we arrived here. But their ship from Tol Eressëa was delayed. With all the excitement of today, she forgot to tell you." Erestor nodded, but it was Elwing who spoke.
"Tell us about Elrond. How is he?" She wrung her hands in a mixture of fear and anticipation. Idril spoke softly about the healers' diagnosis.
"They plan to send word to Lórien."
"Can we see him?" Elwing quailed at the information that was left out. Idril and Tuor exchanged a long look as if debating something. Then, they broached a topic long neglected.
"Elwing, do you sense when Maiar spirits are near? Did you know there were many Maiar at the docks today?" Tuor opted for a direct approach. Elwing stiffened, affronted by the question. Tuor took her reaction as an affirmative answer. "I ask because you and your son are the only two Peredhil with Maiar heritage in these lands."
"Elrond and Elros were greatly injured by the Maiar battle songs during the War of Wrath," Erestor interjected. Elwing turned to Elrond's councilor in surprise.
"I hear and communicate with them via these songs." She admitted softly.
"Could you do this before you came to Valinor?"
"Shortly before, my heritage was awoken. It was after you sailed. I began to communicate with Uinen and Ossë. I was just simple things like greetings at first." Erestor sensed Elwing's reticence. It was evident that she did not wish to divulge more about her heritage.
"Elrond senses the songs too but can not comprehend much. I only seek to protect him. The Maiar songs caused him much pain and injury on our journey here." Erestor summarized briefly the incident on the ship.
"You should not try to communicate with him in such a manner. Perhaps that is why he did not or could not answer your call at the docks today." Eärendil squeezed his wife's shoulder.
"I will be careful." Elwing promised. "If we could just see him." Idril nodded and took her daughter-in-law's hand.
"He sleeps aided by a healing draught. But surely, you should see him." Together, they slipped silently into Elrond's room. Elwing covered her mouth as a small gasp escaped her. Here was the son she had abandoned in Sirion. His features were pale, peaceful, and exquisitely beautiful. His eyes were closed in exhaustion. She leaned over and brushed his cheek with her hand. Eärendil stood close behind her. She felt his promise in her mind and vowed the same.
"We will be here if he needs us."
Xxxxxxx Audience with the Valar xxxxxxxX
Olwë's tower climbed eight stories up into the night sky of Alqualondë. The staircase wound around the outer edge of the tower framed with a series of archways that showcased breathtaking views of the pearl rooftops of the city or of the beach glinting with gems or of sea accentuated with the billowing white sails of the swan ships that undulated hypnotically in the evening breeze. Celebrían did not register these views, so focused was she on the upcoming meeting. Olwë and Cévëalë, her Great Grandparents, led the way, followed by her Grandfather Arafinwë. She and Falmatar came last.
"Do you meet regularly with the Valar?" Celebrían whispered.
"Nay, Adar did not honor their summons to Ilmarin after the first kinslaying and eschewed most opportunities to speak with them. I know he sometimes meets Ulmo at a secluded isle across from the Shell cottage. But I do not know how often."
She caught sight of impossibly blue robes that glittered like molten sapphires. If asked, she would have said that Vilya's brilliant blue was the closest facsimile. He wielded a staff topped with similar stones, though they were many times the size of Celebrimbor's ring. She automatically gave a low curtsy in obeisance. She shivered at the power of the Elder King, which seemed to seep into her hröa and only registered the presence of two other of the Valar and one of the great Eagles. So stunned was she by the might and majesty of the Valar that Olwë's words just washed over her. She studied the majestic eagle. He was much larger than others she had seen. She guessed his wingspan must be more than twice her height. Perhaps it was as much as fifteen to twenty feet. His heavy head was wreathed in white feathers. His golden eyes filled with wisdom. His beak turned, and the golden eyes stared right at her.
"Your chicks have grown well." The eagle's voice filled her head. She tried to hide her shock that the eagle was so adept at mind speak. "They have saved more than a few of my kin."
"Thank you," she responded to the compliment. "We tried our best to raise them well." Her thoughts turned to the tidings she had received of their hunts for orcs. She had prayed daily that they would be well once she had begun to recover in Lórien.
"They were lost to their grief and search for vengeance for only a few years." The great eagle assured her. "They came back to their senses and were ever a strength for Imladris, for their Adar, and for the Dúnedain."
"If you see them." Celebrían wondered at the Eagle's knowledge of her children. "Would you tell them that I send my love?"
"If I encounter them, it would be my honor to relay your tidings." The eagle turned back towards Manwë, who had asked him a question. Celebrían blinked dazedly and turned her attention towards the others in her party. Olwë, Cévëalë, and Arafinwë stood in front of her. Her grandfather and great-grandfather were both upset by their expressions.
"You will not help? Or you can not help?" Arafinwë demanded. Manwë's powerful eyes did not give any hint of emotion. Celebrían was startled that a third Vala had appeared, apparently while she had been conversing with the eagle. What had she missed? This Vala was the most alien in appearance, with a white beard, mustache, and a great silver trident. The way Olwë looked to him for courage, this could only be Ulmo.
"You have a strange way of defining separation between the kindreds and non-intervention." Olwë shook as he spoke to Manwë. "You sent the Istari east to help in the fight against a Maia who was Morgoth's lieutenant. We had a promise that the Maiar would only enter our city in physical form. Yet, that was not the case today. How many times has this promise been disregarded? If we are to live together in harmony and respect, should not the Maiar also show respect to elves by honoring this simple promise?"
"They had your best interests in mind and the interests of the returnees." Manwë stated.
"May I remind you that the Maiar were unaware that their songs injured my beloved husband," Celebrían's voice cut soft yet sharp through the conversation. Olwë, Cévëalë, and Arafinwë turned in surprise, for one did not address the Valar without leave. Yet Celebrian continued. "Even Olórin's warning to Uinen and Ossë was not enough to keep the other Maiar from converging on us at the swan Haven. They inflicted yet more pain and damage, perhaps forcing an emergency surgery." She felt the force of the Eldar King's eyes as if challenging her to continue. He seemed an immovable power and finally turned his gaze to Olórin. But if they were communicating, it was not clear. Thus, Celebrian turned her plea towards his wife.
"Dear Elbereth, ever has Elrond started off each day with a prayer to Ilúvatar for strength to serve him and his people. He prays to you for wisdom. He has tried his best for ages to serve and heal all in need. His heart is failing. The songs of his spirit are unwinding. You know that he will not go to your brother's halls should he pass from life. He will be lost to the wind."
"He has sustained deep scissions to the fëa that may be mortal." Varda agreed solemnly.
"Some of those hurts were sustained due to Sauron's ring. Others were inflicted by one of your Istar. Still, more are due to him wielding Vilya to defend our people." Celebrian divulged. Olórin spoke in agreement. "Will you not aid him?"
"Celebrimbor should not have had the craft to forge such power of the rings." Manwe's thoughts rang through her, though he did not seem to move his lips.
"But he did."
"Perhaps it is the will of the all father."
"I can not believe that." Celebrían countered.
"The Maiar simply cast off their hröar when it is damaged and clothe themselves in new ones."
"Elrond has carries only a few drops of that bloodline."
"The risk is great. Such hurts of the hröa are not easily mended."
"There is no hope if you do not try."
Xxxxxxx Hours later xxxxxX
"How is he?" Celebrían could not mask the fear in her voice.
"He has been sleeping peacefully." Idril rose to greet her and drew her into a comforting embrace when she saw how much Celebrían was trembling. "What did the Valar say?"
"They will help, though they give no guarantee. They seemed," She paused with sudden uncertainty. "Puzzled by the Peredhil." Then she yawned, for an audience with the Valar was nothing short of exhausting.
"I will wait while you change." Idril waved at her husband, who came forward and squeezed Celebrían's hand.
"Sleep well." Tuor kissed her forehead before leaving.
He lay with his eyes closed in exhaustion. The dark silken hair framed a beloved face that was now much thinner and shockingly translucent. She had been drawn to his solidness, unusual light, and loving heart. With a pang, she realized how much the battles of the last few yen had cost him. She curled next to him, focusing her love through their bond. She knew what she would hear – the strained melodies of his spirit no longer flowed in rhythm. Like an ensemble that had always played in unison, his disparate mix of the three kindred struggled to keep together. She placed her hand on his chest and focused on him. Even in sleep, she could feel his joy at her presence. He slept contentedly by her side. She decided that this was enough for now.
"Dear Eru, Please help Elrond heal and give our children the strength and wisdom to carry out your will." She prayed silently before slipping into dreams. At first, she thought it was a dream. But how could her mind conjure such a strange healing hall? She was here, yet she could not move, only watch.
"Wait here. Your spirit is an anchor for his." A voice ordered. A familiar figure was carried to the table.
"Wait! He is not prepared. I have not told him I loved or wished him well."
"This is what you asked for," a being that could only be one of the Vala said dispassionately. He was tall and ethereal, emitting a golden glow that hurt Celebrian's eyes. His long black hair was pulled back into one tight braid.
Time passed slowly as she watched them prepare strange instruments. She recognized some of the scalpels and other tools due to the times she had assisted Elrond in healing. She stood maybe ten feet from the table on which her husband lay. His hair was pulled back neatly behind him. A white glowing strip covered Elrond's forehead and temples and seemed to be blinking slowly. Tall figures stood at the table, obscuring much of his body from her vision. A bright light beamed down upon them. Estë was speaking to her assistant in words that were indecipherable. She felt only numbness and a sense of soaring with the wind rushing past and realized this must be what Elrond was experiencing under the anesthesia. Strange red tubing connected Elrond's arm with a rounded rectangular box, which murmured like a pump. At some of their words, thin but powerful shafts of red light burst down onto the site of the surgery. At other times, the light turned golden. She lost track of how long she stood there. During the long wait, she prayed to Eru and Elbereth to protect and heal her husband. Silently, her prayers turned to songs. Her mind and spirit drew comfort from her silent songs and chants to Elbereth. The feelings she sensed through their bond changed. His mind conjured dark dreams as confusion, anxiety, and pain merged with old memories.
"He is in danger!" She wanted to scream but her words floated soundlessly and unheeded in this strange world. A hand touched her shoulder and she looked up. Familiar silken black hair curled around a glowing white but unfamiliar perfect face. The Lady's smile sent waved of comfort through her.
"We must believe that his spirit will be anchored here." Melian joined in Celebrian's song to Elbereth. Together, the two of them chanted. Yet, Celebrian faltered at the pressure she felt through her bond with Elrond. It grew stronger and more painful as the drug-induced fog that was meant to mitigate the pain of the surgery suddenly proved detrimental. In this confused state, the fibers that held his diverse spirit together and bound it to his hröa gave way, shattering in a burst of light and sound that sent splinters of his song rushing by. Celebrities focused on their marital bond, conjuring the deep, fierce, and loving song of their union. She was surprised at the burning power that Melian added to her song to amplify it.
"You have more strength than you know, descendant of Finwë and Olwë." These simple words of encouragement from Melian were all she needed. Celebrian sang as never before, giving voice to special moments from the long years of their life together. Melodies danced and shimmered in the air. Fear bubbled up in her as she realized these were part of her husband's fëa. Melian added her voice, and suddenly Estë joined them.
"We have completed our work on the heart." Estë waved her hand at the shimmering fog that surrounded Celebrían. Will you come? It will not be the easy choice." Estë's questions were not directed at her but at Elrond. Celebrían sensed deep guilt, and even more alarmingly, she felt his feelings of loss, helplessness, and alienation.
"Beloved, I am well. You have not failed me. You could never do that. I need you beside me. Do not leave me." She pleaded as she sent her love to him. She was moved to stretch out her hands, wishing to hug the essence that was her husband's spirit. The colors merged, affording a glowing golden sphere, which Melian stepped forward to surround. Estë motioned, and the glow obeyed and moved back over to the table to descend into Elrond's motionless hröa. Then Estë lifted Elrond's head and held a flask of glowing cream to his lips. Celebrían felt the command to drink and swallowed air even at this distance. Elrond grimaced as he swallowed.
"You are hurting him." Celebrían cried. Powerful gold but emotionless eyes fixed on her.
"Healing is pain. The draught may help bind the disparate parts of his fëa. Whether his song can hold them together enough for him to heal? That I do not know." Estë was so beautiful, even in her blood-speckled smock, that it hurt to look upon her. Celebrían nodded as she averted her eyes. She felt the Vala's call and sat in a chair beside Elrond. The table had transformed into a bed. Elrond lay covered with a light sheet from his waist down. She slipped her fingers to cup his limp hand and brought it to her face to kiss his palm. Tears leaked from her eyes onto his too-cold fingers. She watched the slow rise and fall of his heavily bandaged chest. "His fëa was injured, slashed, and marred by war, evil, and terrible tragedies. Such damage of the spirit infests the physical body and causes it to fail." The healer's words echoed in her mind, making her tighten her grip on his long fingers. Such a heart problem was beyond the scope of elven healers. Yet Celebrían's plea to the Valar had not gone unanswered. Lady Estë and Lord Irmo were moved to carry out the surgery on Elrond's heart with Lady Melian in assistance. Yet, their words were not reassuring. Fragments of them echoed in her head.
"If he survives the next few days - If we can coax his fëa back into his hröa." She shuddered at the other possibility. No, he had survived so much already. Surely, with her help, he would survive this.
"Beloved, Meleth-nin, do not leave me." She called as she steeled herself to keep watch over him, counting the slow breaths that passed his open lips and listening to the soft beat of his heart.