10. Wounds Are Healed.

"It is truly lovely out here, and so very relaxing," said Elisiel as she and Thranduil strolled slowly along the covered archway that formed the path from the house to the gardens.

"Yes, I was beginning to long for the sweet fresh smell of green leaves and flowers," agreed Thranduil. "I see there is even a small stand of trees further ahead, shall we go and see if they have anything to say?" he asked cheerfully.

"Ai, it is so pretty in this little glade," exclaimed Elisiel as she twirled around, her arms held out and her eyes closed. There was no response except for a grunt and the sound of someone falling. Quickly opening her eyes she looked around, shocked to see Thranduil lying face down in the grass with an arrow protruding from his back.

"THRANDUIL!" she screamed as she ran to his side and took him in her arms. She knew the injury was not fatal because she could still hear his song singing in harmony with hers, but he had lost a great deal of blood. Ripping frantically at her underskirt, she managed to tear off a large piece of the soft fabric to use as a bandage. Suddenly aware she was being watched herself, she looked up into the tearful eyes of Faerwen.

"He did not mean to do it," she sobbed, her words making little sense.

"Calm down, child," Elisiel said gently. "WHO did not mean to do this?" she asked, pointing to the arrow.

"Aradir. He was only trying to be a warrior.   He knows he is not supposed to touch greatgrandada's bow."

"I see," replied Elisiel tersely. "You can tell me the rest later, but right now I need you to run back to the house and tell your grandada that Lord Thranduil is wounded and he is needed at once. Can you do that?" she asked watching the young elfling's face as she gathered her courage. In a few moments her eyes were still wide with shock, but the tears had subsided, and she was now much calmer.

"I shall run very fast," the elfling said as she turned and headed back to the house. Elisiel gently brushed the stray locks of gold from her husband's face as she cradled his head in her lap and waited for Elrond to arrive. Faerwen had said Aradir was responsible and Elisiel briefly wondered where he had gone.

        **********

Celebrian had called her family together, and they were all in the sitting room where she was proudly displaying the sketchbook that had become her prized possession. They had spent several pleasant hours looking at the pictures and listening to the stories Legolas had told her.

"She made Legolas repeat each anecdote until she remembered it word for word," Elrond said quietly to Celeborn.

"She grieves deeply for the Evenstar and her family, as we all do," replied Celeborn sadly.

"I wonder why Legolas did not mention that he had Faramir's sketches sooner?" mused Elladan as he nodded at Elrohir's raised eyebrow, confirming that he also recognised the two of them in one of the pictures. They had visited Ithilien only a few times, and did not realise that Faramir had captured them as they teased Arwen by threatening to throw a bucket of water over her. All three were laughing gaily and the artist had captured the essence of their relationship well.

"Because his own grief at the losses he suffered was still too close to the surface, and he did not have the heart to open wounds of mine that had not yet healed," answered Elrond with a melancholy smile for a kindred spirit who was now paying the price for sharing his love and friendship with mortal beings. A price Elrond knew only too well, and one neither Elf regretted having to pay.

The adults had found the pictures so engrossing, that none of them even noticed when the two elflings had become bored and disappeared into the garden to seek other amusement. Thus there were many astonished looks when Faerwen rushed into the room and straight into Elrohir's arms.

"Ada! Ada! Come quick! Aradir has...   has... " She stumbled as her eyes filled with tears.

"Aradir has what?" asked Mariel gently, concerned for both her niece and her son.

"He... shot...   Lord Thranduil," she managed to stammer between sobs.

"What!" exclaimed Elladan and Elrond simultaneously. The loudness of their voices causing the distraught elfling to cry even harder.

"Tell me where they are, Faerwen," said Celebrían taking the small hands in hers as she knelt before the child who was still sitting on her Adar's lap.

"In the garden," she whispered, burying her face in Elrohir's chest as he held her close. Elrond, Elladan and Celeborn hurried to the glade where they found a blood covered Thranduil lying quietly in Elisiel's arms. Elrond quickly assessed the injury, and agreeing with her assertion that Thranduil was not in any real danger, the healer returned to the house to fetch the items he needed to remove the arrow and tend the wound.

"Do you know where Aradir is?" asked Elladan looking about for his son who was nowhere to be found.

"No, we did not see him, and I think he must have run off. The poor child is probably terrified at what he has done," she answered. "I think you should go and find him, Elladan."

"Go on," encouraged Celeborn, sensing his grandson was torn between the need to find Aradir, and a desire to aid Thranduil. "I will help Elrond attend to our injured friend. You son likely has injuries only you can heal," he added wisely.

Elrohir met Elladan as he made his way back to the house to see if Faerwen could provide some direction.

"I am afraid Faerwen does not know where he is," said Elrohir before Elladan had a chance to speak. "I think if we find Celeborn's bow and arrows that will at least give us a starting point," he added, placing a consoling arm about his brother's shoulders. Elladan appreciated the gesture and managed a tight smile, no matter the problem he could always count on Elrohir's support.

"I do not understand what possessed him to do such a thing," Elladan said in confusion as they quickly located the bow and quiver of arrows, and followed the trail Aradir had unwittingly left as he had run through the bushes.

"It is just an example of youthful misjudgement, something we were often accused of as elflings as I recall," consoled Elrohir.

"I doubt that either of us would ever have dared to 'borrow' one of Lord Celeborn's favourite bows," said Elladan angrily. "And we most certainly would not have attempted to shoot anyone!"

"We both know it was an accident. Let the child explain his actions before you condemn him. Do not forget that he has no knowledge of weaponry other than as a sport, and he has barely begun to learn archery," argued Elrohir.

"I hope Thranduil sees it in that light, when he recovers," replied Elladan as he inclined his head towards the large tree to his right. Elrohir casually looked up and nodded in answer to the unspoken question, words were often unnecessary between brothers as close as Elrond's sons. Aradir was high above, his bright eyes betraying his presence to the experienced trackers. Elladan turned to stare directly at his son.

"Come down from there at once, Aradir!" he demanded. "I would like to hear your explanation for the injury you caused Lord Thranduil," he said as his son landed silently beside him.

"I was showing Faerwen how to shoot, and somehow the arrow went in the wrong direction, right towards where Lord Thranduil was standing in the glade watching Lady Elisiel. I did not mean to kill him Adar!" he sobbed, unable to keep his tears at bay. Elladan exchanged a surprised glance with his brother and knelt down to take his son in his arms. No wonder the poor elfling was so frightened!

"Lord Thranduil is not dead, just wounded. Grandada is healing him as we speak," explained Elrohir. Aradir relaxed visibly at that news, but he sensed he was still in serious trouble.

"I think we should return to the house, your naneth is very worried about you," said Elladan, taking his son's hand. "You reason for 'borrowing' Lord Celeborn's bow would be best explained to him, I think, and I expect you to apologise to Lord Thranduil as soon as he is well enough to receive visitors," he added sternly, ignoring the trembles of fear he felt from his son at the thought of having to make explanations and apologies to two such formidable Elves.

By the time they returned to the house, Elrond had expertly removed the arrow and he and Celeborn had helped Thranduil to his room, where he was now settled comfortably in bed.

"Fortunately the arrow did not penetrate very deeply," he was saying to Thranduil when a very shy Faerwen poked her head around the doorway.

"May we come in?" asked Amaraen, leading her daughter by the hand when Elrond indicated they were permitted to enter. "I wanted to reassure the little one that you were well, my lord," she said to Thranduil. "I cannot convince her to go to sleep until she sees you for herself."

"I understand," said Thranduil with a kind smile for the elfling. "Come, my little lady, sit beside me," he said patting the bedcover to indicate where she could sit without aggravating his wound. "As you can see, I am quite well. Your grandada tells me the wound is already staring to heal and I shall be back to normal by the morning."

"I am sorry you were shot, my lord, I will not part-ic-i-pate, in such reckless behaviour in future," whispered Faerwen, stumbling over the unfamiliar word in what Thranduil recognised as an apology her naneth had apparently made her rehearse several times already.

"I am pleased to hear that, and you have my forgiveness if you try to get some sleep," he said, kissing the elfling lightly on the forehead.

"I will, and right now!" she promised jumping from the bed and racing out into the hallway.

"Thank you, my lord," said Amaraen as she left to recapture her exuberant daughter.

Elladan, Elrohir and Aradir had been watching from the doorway, and they now entered the room and approached the bed. Elladan looked sternly at Aradir who moved closer to Thranduil before he began to speak.

"My lord Thranduil, I also offer my apologies for injuring you. It was an accident that should never occurred, and I was foolish for attempting to use a weapon as if it were a plaything. I humbly beg your forgiveness," he said, bowing his head in shame.

"I assume you now realise how dangerous a bow can be in unskilled hands?" Thranduil asked sternly. This was no light matter and he wanted to make sure the child knew it.

"Yes, my lord," he answered. "My lord Celeborn has proclaimed that as punishment for taking his bow without permission, I am not to be allowed to compete in the novice archery tournament this New Year. I am now at your mercy regarding my injury to you," he said with both courage and maturity that impressed everyone in the room.

Thranduil looked thoughtful for a moment, and then responded. "A warrior must not only have the skill to use his weapons, he must know everything about them, and therefore as punishment, I will expect you to attend archery lessons given by my son, Legolas."

"As you wish," replied Aradir, his pleasure at such a fortuitous punishment easily seen on his face. He knew his Adar had great respect for Legolas' archery prowess. Thranduil noticed and continued.

" Do not feel to relieved, young Aradir. My son is a very experienced and a very skilful warrior, as well as a hard taskmaster. He will treat you fairly despite your injury to me, and you will continue tuition with him until he deems you fully trained." He looked to Elladan to make sure he had not overstepped his bounds in regard to another's son. Elladan nodded once to signify his approval.

"Then if all punishments and apologies have been issued, I would like you all to leave Thranduil's room so that he can get some healing rest," commanded Elrond. He was quickly obeyed, and when they had all left, Elisiel settled herself on the bed next to Thranduil, gently caressing his soft golden hair as he relaxed his head against her shoulder. He had almost drifted into sleep when there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Come in," he called, totally surprised to see none other than Galadriel enter the room bearing a tray on which there was a pot of sweet smelling herbal tea and three cups.