Ch 5 The Houses of Healing

Faramir had asked that they send for Lord Elrond. The two had met at the coronation of King Elessar, and instantly become friends. The two were kindred spirits - both were scholars, lore masters, and warriors. As a result, they spent many evenings debating everything from battles to history as seen by both human and elf.

He readily agreed to assist in the care of Faramir, for he, too, had come to regard the steward as a friend.

Elrond and Aragorn entered the sickroom. Elrond noticed that the steward’s face was flushed with fever. He also noticed the quick grimace of pain that crossed Faramir’s face.

Turning to the healer, he said, “The wound has become infected?”

“Aye, and the fever has risen as well. We must re-open the wound so it will drain.”

Aragorn stepped to the bed and spoke to his steward. “Éowyn will be here shortly. She is traveling with Éomer as well as Prince Imrahil. I have received word she will be arriving within the hour.”

Faramir suddenly arched his back as a searing wave of pain hit. He gasped, then slowly settled back on the bed.

Elrond, Aragorn and the healers conferred. “We must drain the wound,” one said. “It must be re-opened. It is the only way. However, we can not give Lord Faramir any sleeping potion.”

Aragorn nodded, then took a crystal on a chain from a pocket of his robe. He took a lamp, setting it on the table and turned it up. He started the crystal spinning, showering the room with rainbows of color. He noticed Faramir’s gaze had focused on the spinning jewel.

In a quiet voice, he said, “Watch the crystal. See how it spins, flashing. Just keep watching.” He watched as Faramir concentrated on the glowing crystal. “Look deeply into the center and see the flame as it dances.” Aragorn noticed Faramir’s eyes had started to glaze over. His eyelids started to droop.

Aragorn nodded, and continued talking in a quiet voice. “Sleep, my friend.” He smiled as Faramir gave a small sigh, and settled deeper in the bed. “Can you hear me? You will be able to answer without waking.”

“Aye” Faramir breathed softly.

“Very well. Go even deeper, let nothing disturb your rest.” Placing his hand above the wound but not touching it, he spoke. “You will feel nothing until I say. The healers must open the wound to drain the infection off. As they do so, you will feel no pain. You will feel pressure, but only that. The pain will drain away with the infection. Do you understand?”

Again came the soft answer “Aye.”

Aragorn nodded to Elrond, who then proceeded to open the wound and drain it. The entire time the healers watched for any signs of pain from the steward, and were pleasantly surprised when he did not stir and never showed any sign of pain.

Finally, Elrond was finished and he nodded to Aragorn. The king then spoke to Faramir. “All is well, my friend. You will feel rested and alert, remembering everything. The numbness will slowly recede, but the pain will not return.”

Again came the almost silent “Aye” as the steward slipped into a healing sleep. As the healers were gathering their supplies, there came a page with the news of the arrival of the riders from Emyn Arnen.