Chapter 3:
Ethuil, Northern Rohan, 2818 T.A.
In the sturdy cottage, a woman was sitting by the fire, rocking with a cat on her lap, when the sound of horses startled her out of her reverie. “Sidhiel? Wait, no, I hear more than one horse,” she mumbled to herself. “Get down, Nim-mem, and let me see who is outside.” With that, the woman stood and shooed the cat from around her ankles. She opened the door, only to see two large horses silhouetted against the last rays of the sun. As she stepped outside, she spied the riders. One was struggling to pick up the other, who was obviously unconscious. When the first rider turned, his hood slipped and Idhreneth saw his ears. Thank Elbereth! One of the Eldar! This is my opportunity!
Erestor saw the tall, stately woman with wavy dark hair step out of the cottage, but he was too busy to say anything at first. Gildor was unconscious and the bleeding still had not stopped completely. As Erestor struggled to pick him up, he heard, “My Lord, do you need a healer?” His head snapped up, for the words were in perfect Sindarin even if the accent was a bit more clipped and less melodic than normal. As Erestor finally got his tired arms and legs to cooperate, he picked up Gildor and began walking to the cottage. “Yes, my Lady, my friend is gravely injured and we desperately need your help.”
Idhreneth trembled and backed to the door where she grabbed the handle for support. “My Lady, I will not hurt you. Please. My friend needs aid.”
“I can help your friend, but will only do so on one condition.”
Erestor was quickly overwhelmed by the emotions of the day. He was tired and truly worried for Gildor and here, this woman who could help, might refuse? Through clenched teeth, Erestor replied, “What condition? I have money…”
“I have no need of your money. I simply need your word, your oath, that you will take my ward back to your home when you leave.”
“What? Why?” Erestor was confused and his exhaustion made his words sound harsh.
Idhreneth was visibly shaken, for she had never refused aid to anyone, but she was adamant. “That is my only condition. You best decide quickly for your friend is failing,” her soft voice trembled.
Erestor hated being maneuvered into agreeing to anything, but he quickly relented, “Certainly. Please. Help my friend.”
Idhreneth sighed in relief and opened the door. When Erestor crossed the threshold he took in the deceptively simple furnishings and noted that the cottage was larger than he had first guessed. Numerous scents fought for dominance in his brain. The overwhelming scent of a meat stew could not completely mask a myriad of herbal scents, though.
The large, stone central mantle visually separated a cozy sitting area from the kitchen. He followed the lady past a sturdy, if worn, kitchen table and through a door. He stepped into a large room where she directed him to place Gildor on a comfortable bed near the corner hearth. The lady pulled back a quilt and blankets, revealing soft white sheets. While he was settling Gildor, she bustled about, stepping in and out of the room, lighting lanterns, and gathering herbs and supplies. It was then that Erestor realized that the other half of the room contained a desk, cabinets, and book shelves, with almost every surface covered by open books and jars of all shapes and sizes. Hanging from the ceiling were various bundles of dried herbs and flowers.
When she returned from the kitchen, she was carrying several cloths and a large bowl full of water. She then moved to the bed next to Gildor. “Please help me remove these clothes and bindings. I must clean the wound and see how bad it is. Is this the only injury or are there others?”
“There are no others. This was done by a Dunlending axe that was meant for me.”
Idhreneth heard the anguish in Erestor’s voice and tried to keep him in the present moment, although he was swaying and obviously quite exhausted. “While I work here, you should put your horses in the pen with ours so they can have feed and water. After that is done, there is stew in the pot on the stove as well as bread with honey and butter on the table. I even have some mead in the barrel under the house. The access door is under the sink in the kitchen. Please help yourself.”
Erestor was glad to be busy and not have to watch as he heard Gildor’s weak moans and cries while his wound was being cleaned. He observed the lady who moved with a grace he was unaccustomed to from mortals. Her voice was soft and soothing with his friend. The lady was obviously quite capable as she mixed and crushed herbs for a tea. She prepared a draught for Gildor and then asked, “Could you hold him up a bit? He needs to drink this so that he will sleep deeply while I stitch him up. It will be better for all if he sleeps through this.” Erestor lifted Gildor’s shoulders and tilted his head back so that the lady could serve him sips of tea. She somehow managed to get half the cup down him without any of them wearing any of it. “You should care for yourself now. I will call if I have need of you.”
Erestor walked out of the bedroom. He was shaking with exhaustion. Once the horses were cared for and he was full of good, hearty stew, he felt himself begin to doze off. The lady was still working over Gildor! I should be helping. As he walked to Gildor’s side, the lady sat back and wiped a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “I have done all I can for now. He lost a lot of blood, but the cut was clean and avoided all vital organs. There is no sign the blade was tainted, either. The next few days will be critical; he will need a lot of rest and continuous watching. We will both share our strength with him.”
“My lady, do you have a name? I should like to be able to properly thank you...”
“I am Idhreneth, and…” she cocked her head, listening for something, “my ward’s name is Sidhiel. She should have been back by now,” she said, almost to herself.
Erestor noticed the quiver in her voice, “Surely she is fine,” although he wondered. It was now many hours past sunset and no… woman?... girl?... he had no idea which, should be out alone this late. “Do you want me to go look for her?” he dreaded her answer, because, in truth, he wanted to stay close to Gildor, but his nature forced him to help if it was in his power.
“No. Thank you. Unfortunately, she often stays out past dark even though she knows I hate it. She just loses track of time. For some reason, she is comfortable wandering alone in the dark.” She began bustling about the cottage, putting dishes in the sink, stoking the fires, adjusting the stove, snuffing candles. “Now, you should rest,” she said as she urged Erestor through the other door and into another large bedroom, “You take this bed. I will stay beside your friend so that I can tend to him. What did you say his name was?”
Erestor smiled, yes, he had forgotten introductions, and he’d already eaten his fill and availed himself of much of the lady’s hospitality. “My apologies, my Lady, I am not normally so ill mannered and thoughtless. Please forgive me. I am Erestor of Imladris and my friend is Gildor Inglorion.”
“You’re from Imladris? I have heard stories of it. It will be good for Sidhiel to go there. Thank you. You have given me such peace of mind.” With that, she turned to leave the room.
“Idhreneth, are you sure that you should not have the bed? I feel quite awkward taking your bed from you. I can sleep on the floor quite easily. It is softer than the ground I have been sleeping on.”
She laughed, a sweet sound, and said, “Absolutely not! You rest. I will be up and down all night checking his bandages and watching for fever, not to mention giving him more tea. He needs lots of fluids to regain the blood he lost. Besides, I doubt I will truly rest until Sidhiel gets home. So, please, sleep in comfort. Maybe tomorrow night, if he is faring better, you can take this duty.”
Erestor stripped down to only his suede leggings and silk shirt, grimacing at his state. He needed a bath, but it was far too late for that. Surely he could at least clean up enough to keep from ruining the nice bedclothes. He left the bedroom, only to see Idhreneth standing in the front door, searching for something or someone, more likely. “My lady…” she jumped, obviously startled. “I apologize. I did not mean to startle you.”
“Oh… no harm done. I have lived with Sidhiel for so long that this house is only quiet when I am alone. I did not hear you,” she quickly regained her composure.
“I am pretty dirty and would prefer to clean up before I ruin your sheets…” he began.
She interrupted, “Oh, dear. I am so sorry. I was worried about your friend and Sidhiel and have completely forgotten to see to you. The tub is kept in Sidi’s room, maybe something less than a full bath will do for tonight?” she offered.
He smiled, “Anything with water would be perfect. Hannon le, my lady.”
She brought him cleaning cloths and a large fluffy towel as well as oils and soaps. “I did not know what scents you would like, but I assumed the less floral ones would be more to your liking.”
He was sitting on the bed tugging his boots off when she returned with a large pail full of lukewarm water. “It is not too warm since I had already turned down the stove, but it is not completely cold. Will this suffice?”
He felt a little body jump on his lap. He winced when sharp claws began to knead into his thigh. “Oww! And, who are you my dark one?” he said as he grabbed the black kitten with a white nose that was making its way up his body.
“Oh, sorry. That’s Nim-mem. He’s our fearsome hunter,” Idhreneth laughed. “I hope he’s not disturbing you. He sleeps in either of the beds and I shooed him away from Gildor.”
“Not at all. I adore cats. I do not mind sharing my bed with a ferocious warrior,” he cringed at the double entendré, but kept his composure as he petted the kitten, which preened at the words and affection. “Hannon le, my lady, you have been most kind.”
“My pleasure, Lord Erestor,” she smiled and closed the door behind her. She then entered the other bedroom and settled down in a chair next to Gildor’s bed and began humming a soothing melody as she held his hand.
Erestor freed his hair from the confining braid and ran his fingers through the tangles. He removed his shirt, leggings, and loincloth and began cleaning the dust and blood from his skin. It was not a bath, but the water was still warm so felt luxurious compared to what he had been used to these past few months. Once the worst of the grime was removed, he lathered another cloth with a sandalwood scented soap and thoroughly cleansed himself except for his hair which he combed through as best he could.
After drying he put on clean clothes from his pack and settled down on the comfortable bed, his hand idly petting the purring form cuddled up next to him. He was thoroughly spent from the flight and worry, not to mention the fights earlier in the day. It had been a long day and he needed some rest, but found he was unable to drift off.
He pondered this lady and her home, not to mention her missing ward. This cottage, while not elaborate by Elven standards, was exceedingly well crafted with simple, but fine furnishings, like the almost luxurious sheets he was sleeping on. It all seemed out of place, as though it did not really belong here in a remote village of Rohan. The lady herself was a larger puzzle. She was quite lovely and held herself almost regally, yet she was obviously a skilled healer and not unfamiliar with hard work as her care worn hands demonstrated. Odd that a healer from Rohan would know a few words of Sindarin, but even less likely is for one to be fluent in it. His thoughts began to jumble as he drifted into reverie.
Ethuil, Imladris, 2818 T.A.
Glorfindel set up the chess board and a couple of glasses, pondering which wine to open first when there was a knock at the door. “Enter.”
Elrond walked in with a tray of fruit and cheeses as well as a bottle of wine. He was dressed casually in leggings and a loosely tied white silk shirt. His hair was unbraided. It was obvious he was there to relax and enjoy the company.
“Meldir, you look like you do not think me a challenge,” teased Glorfindel.
Elrond grinned sheepishly, “That could not be further from the truth. I just want, nay need, a break from planning this Council and keeping up with everything else. Saelbeth is doing well, but he is yet untried with many of his duties. I always take Erestor for granted until he is gone for awhile.”
None of us truly appreciate him as he deserves. “While you pour us a glass of wine, I have two good vintages on the table there, I think I shall change myself. That way, I am not overdressed.”
The camaraderie was relaxing for both friends, and healing, in a small way. When the third bottle of wine was almost finished, and it seemed that Glorfindel was on his way to yet another rout, Elrond tipped his King over and resigned. “How is it that even after all these years, you still slaughter me at this game? I think we shall have to play something else next time, meldir.”
Glorfindel smiled. He loved strategy games and chess in particular. He always had. He delighted in delving into his opponent’s mind and finding ways to use their own strengths against them. Only one had ever bested him at chess. That thought made his mind wander back to wavy, dark hair being twirled around a long elegant finger… a mouth sipping wine and a tongue quickly licking stray drops from full, ruby lips… laughter, sweet laughter… and those brown eyes, glinting in mischief and triumph…
Elrond saw the distant look in Glorfindel’s eyes and realized that he’d lost his Seneschal to a memory. Elrond cleared his throat to pull him back to the present. “I brought the sleeping draught. You should take it tonight. You need to rest and regain your strength. In a few nights we can try again without the potion.”
What is wrong with me? Must be the lack of sleep. “You are right, of course. Please stay? It always takes me so long to feel myself again after this,” he said, and he drank the concoction down in one gulp.
Elrond helped Glorfindel into bed and reassured him that he would stay. “Now, sleep. Rest without dreams. Good night,” he said as he lightly kissed Glorfindel’s forehead and brushed a few wayward strands from his face. The draught, combined with the wine, pulled Glorfindel into sleep quickly so Elrond snuffed the candles and quietly eased into bed next to his friend.
TBC
Translations:
Ethuil – late spring
meldir – my friend (male)
hannon le – I thank you