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Chapter 20 - "I'm H.A.P.P.Y."
The next few days slipped past in a haze of discomfort for Penny. Life in the cart was vile. All she wanted was to be able to lie as still as possible and sleep, but every movement reminded her she ached all over and felt desperately ill, despite Naurdir or Lindir's best efforts to direct the horses to smooth ground (it was invariably one or the other driving). Penny would lie there, bumping along, half out of it with weakness and the herbs she had been given. Snatches of song floated over her head or else Mireth or Eleniel chatted away to her about everything and nothing to try and take her mind off things and make the time pass by. Sometimes one of them would read to her – usually from one of her two books. In her more alert moments, Penny was aware of various people she knew walking or riding alongside and asking after her, but she was not much up to conversation. Evenings were a great relief – when they were able to stop at last and she could curl up on her bedroll and finally rest at last (without being jolted awake by the cart rolling over a boulder or thudding down into a pothole). She stayed in her tent, too weak to move and feeling too unwell to make any attempt at being sociable. Mireth and Eleniel stayed with her most of the time, and Arwen on many occasions as well. Various people would come and visit, to chat or see how she was doing. Males did not stay for too long, but Galadriel was a fairly regular visitor chatting to Arwen and the others while Penny did her best to stay awake. The ellith that usually shared their tent all found places elsewhere to rest for the next few days. Only Mireth, Eleniel and Arwen remained. Thus Penny could maintain some privacy. She had had to get over her shame simply because practicalities would not allow for anything else, and both Mireth and Eleniel in particular became almost matronly in their care of her, refusing to allow her to feel any embarrassment. (Though even Penny was aware of the fresh flowers and burning of scented oils at times, no matter how surreptitiously it was done). They went out of their way to make it seem as if all this was the most normal occurrence in the world for them both, and not revolting in the slightest. She could not thank them enough. 'I am sorry' and 'thank you' quickly became her most overused phrases on the journey yet, easily outstripping 'bloody elves' by miles. She ate very little for the first day or two. She did not feel hungry and refused anything other than the jam mixture twice a day and a spoonful of honey three times a day that was to remain her main curative (along with various herbal infusions and healing words). However, when the diarrhoea showed no signs of abating, they insisted she try to eat a little broth and bread as well, if only so her system had something to be dealing with. She did not need to be told how important it was that she drank as much water as she felt she could cope with. Her days and nights were filled with dozy fretfulness and a weakness and lethargy like nothing she had ever known. Penny was well aware how very ill she was, and how much trouble she was putting them all to. "Will you please stop apologising?" Eleniel laughed gently. "We are your friends, Pen-ii, and you have need of our skill. We are happy to be able to help you." Penny and the three ellith were alone in the tent. Arwen was singing quietly to herself, sitting by the open tent flap and staring up at the stars. Mireth was sitting beside her, listening, with her head bowed. Eleniel had just fetched some water for Penny, for which Penny was thanking her. Eleniel made to stand, presumably to join her friends, but Penny stopped her. "You have been so very kind to me, both you and Mireth, from that first day when I arrived in Imladris. I… I shall never forget it." Eleniel said nothing, but smiled. "I was so very lost and alone. I could not think of how I would bear being somewhere so different. Nothing was the same. Everything… I had to learn everything… I must have seemed so foolish to you both." Eleniel was looking at her slightly more intently. She glanced up to see Mireth had turned her head a little, listening to Penny now instead of Arwen. "Not foolish, no." Eleniel caught Mireth's gaze. "A little… strange, perhaps. Unusual." Penny felt so weak she could not lift her head from the cloak wrapped under her head that served as a pillow. She nodded. "I am from a culture very different to yours." Mireth had turned round completely now. Eleniel smiled at Penny. "I know." "I do remember. I did not forget." "Yes, I know. We had guessed." "Your story is a strange one. We realised that a long time ago, Pen-ii." Mireth had come over to sit beside Eleniel. "We told you this in Lothlorien. Have you forgotten?" "No. No, I had not forgotten. I just felt that I owed you an explanation." Eleniel shook her head, the smile still not leaving her face. "There is no need for it, Pen-ii. Try and rest." "But-" "Eleniel is right. You must not launch into a great tale of your past now. You need to sleep and rest and get well, my friend." Mireth pulled up the blanket a little, making it clear she would accept no argument. Arwen had stopped singing. "Here, drink a little of this," Eleniel said as she held out a flask to Penny. Penny drank and felt the familiar sleepiness overtake her. By the end of the third day after they had left Rohan, Elrond was becoming concerned. Penny was aware she was getting weaker, and the slight look of anxiety that none of them could hide completely from their eyes told her everything she needed to know. When not in Penny's presence, Elrond looked grim indeed. The jam mixture and the honey were helping – the frequency and violence of the diarrhoea was slowly lessening at last – but if her body could not absorb more fluid more quickly, that success would be too little too late since it was clear the diarrhoea would continue for a good few days at least. Penny knew she needed something to help her body absorb the fluids it needed. A half-memory was rattling around the back of her head from her student days – a cheap alternative to pharmacy-bought remedies someone had told her about once – but she could not bring it to the fore, could not put her finger on it. What the hell was it? It was that night, as Mireth knelt down beside Penny's bedroll with a spoon and a jar of honey in her hands, that Penny had a lightbulb moment. "Can I have that in water?" she asked just as Mireth put the spoon into the jar. "If you wish," Mireth nodded. "So long as you have it, you may eat it how you choose." "And add a little salt to it?" Mireth looked at her, clearly a little puzzled by this request. "Sugar and salt. Together. It helps the body soak up water inside." Trying to describe the digestive process in Sindarin was beyond Penny. "I am sure honey would work just as well as sugar." Elrond looked intrigued, slightly sceptical, but not averse to the idea when Mireth came to him in his tent with Penny's request. He considered and then nodded slowly. "If she thinks that will help, I have no objection. The effect of the water and the salt should not have any counter-effect on the honey for the purposes for which it is being given. Though," he paused for a moment. "I am not sure it will be at all pleasant to drink." Within a day Elrond could sense this was helping her to replenish the loss of fluids, though a less trained eye might not have noticed a discernible difference. This, along with the positive (if slow) effect their own remedies were having on calming the stomach upset, meant he at last allowed himself to think the worst may be behind them, though it was still touch and go. However, the next day Penny took a downturn and, after the improvement of the previous day, Elrond was mystified at first and a little worried. Penny seemed very out of sorts, moody and disinclined to talk to anyone at all. She slept for most of the day. The following morning, Penny was pale, clearly in great discomfort and had stomach pains. Elrond was immediately very concerned, but once Mireth had quietly taken him to one side and explained, Elrond berated himself for not realising at once what was going on. Of course, with everything else, Penny had not thought to take any of the herbs Mireth had given her back in Imladris to help calm down her system a bit prior to a period. Penny decided that having Mireth and Eleniel offer to wash out her period cloths for her was nearly as embarrassing as those moments when she had to call the cart to a sudden stop so she could rush frantically into the bushes (with Mireth running behind her armed with a water sac and a large sheet to screen Penny if she needed to be). They brought her water (and, at her insistence, her soap) to her on her bedroll and she washed the cloths herself as best she could. "I can manage!" she insisted, though it was clear she was struggling to find the energy to deal with it. Mireth or Eleniel would then hang the cloths near a small fire outside their tent to dry. Just as had happened after they had left Lothlorien, a small gaggle of ellith sat round the fire so as to make it less obvious as to its primary purpose. Penny would come and sit or lie on a bedroll near the entrance so she could participate and feel included. A week after they left Rohan, the diarrhoea seemed to finally be easing off at last. Penny was able to sit up in the cart and chat back for short periods at a time to those who came to amble or trot alongside to see how she was doing – a sure sign she was improving at last. She was still very weak. The illness had been very severe and it would be a while before she was back to full strength. She was also able to take in a little of the countryside they were travelling through. She had always been aware of the mountains, looming large and cold to their right as they had journeyed. Their peaks seemed huge and, while they pretty much kept to the lowlands, following the line of the river, the land still undulated at times so that they had to wind round headlands or bends in the floodplain. However, they had spent the previous day passing through the edge of a small wood, the shade of the trees providing a welcome break from the bright summer sun. As had happened on their journey south from Fangorn to Edoras, news of this large company of journeying elves had travelled to every village, farmstead and hamlet. Thus, the sight of children waving in the distance or small groups of adults coming to stare as they passed by was not unusual. But this day, as they had reached the wood's eastern edge, four armed men had stopped them and greeted them, bowing low and bidding them welcome. "These are guards from the Halifirien beacon," Erestor had explained as he trotted alongside the cart. "This marks the spot where the land of Anórien begins." So, they were in Gondor at last. Several times more on their journey they would be greeted by one or two of the Gondorian guards who manned the staging posts below the beacons. It was at these spots that errand riders on their way from Gondor to Rohan could water their horses or change them for fresh ones if they were on an urgent mission. It was an indication that they were nearing their goal at last, and the very thought made Penny feel excited, in spite of her lethargy and tiredness. On the seventh night of travelling, Celebdor helped Penny down from the cart and together, with Celebdor still supporting her, they made their way over to what was to become a small space in the middle of the tents. There Celebdor deposited her wrapped in her blankets and with her copy of Quenta Silmarillion, while he went to help setting up the last of the tents. She watched as Naurdir made preparations for supper, feeling slightly envious of the fact that most people would get a good hearty meal that night while she would be on the weak broth yet again. An ellon was helping Naurdir organise food, opening baggages and taking out vegetables, bread and utensils. At one point he lifted out a jar which he seemed puzzled by, looking at it as if he had not seen it before. The jar was sealed with wax as well as a cork, so he was wary of opening. "Naurdir, what is this? Is this needed for tonight?" Naurdir looked up. "Ah, no, that was a parting gift from the Rohirrim." He considered. "Actually, they did say to leave it only a week, so it should be ready by now, whatever it is." "So should I open it?" "I think I should check with Elrond first. It was meant to be some kind of medicine or food for Lady Pen-ii here." Penny blinked. "For me? What is it?" "Horse's milk, I believe." Penny wished she had not asked. "But why in Arda would they-?" "Milk!" The ellon looked revolted. "But it will have gone bad in this heat, surely? And they wanted her to drink it after she has been so very ill?" Naurdir shrugged, but it was clear he was in agreement. "Lord Elrond said to keep it. The Rohirrim said not to break the seal for a week." Elrond was soon found and sent word that the jar could be opened and he would be along presently to inspect the contents. Naurdir sliced through the wax with a knife and then pulled out the large cork squinting inside the jar. He sniffed. The grimace on his face was priceless. He glanced at Penny. "They said it would be good for your stomach, Pen-ii. Though I hardly think you are in any state to have milk just yet. Even if you were, this has gone rancid I fear. Though…" He sniffed once more. "It is not as bad as it should be; their sealing the jar with wax seems to have helped somewhat. It is curious." "They could not have expected her to drink it straight away and yet now it is ruined!" the ellon protested. Penny was torn between revulsion and curiosity. "Why would they insist it be left to go bad, Naurdir? It sounds disgusting." "To let it ferment, I suppose. I have no idea. It was not cheese they were hoping to make by it, that much is clear. I would not suggest you try it, Pen-ii. You are recovering at long last, and that is good to see. I would not want you to become ill again. It is not worth the risk." "Can I see?" She held out her hand to Naurdir, who shrugged and walked over to her, handing her the pot. Penny inspected the contents. She sniffed. It was a bit ripe but not so bad. In fact, now she looked at it and smelt it, it seemed much like very cheesy yoghurt. Yoghurt was terribly good for you, especially for the stomach. In fact the only thing putting her off now was the knowledge it was made from horse's milk. But then Mongolian herdsmen had a near total reliance on horses, including making a fiercely alcoholic brew from horse milk, didn't they? She had seen it in a TV documentary once. Amazing what you could learn at three in morning when you had an attack of insomnia. Anyway, she thought, she had had eight months of getting used to cultures radically different from her own, so what was a little horse milk? Darn sight better than sheep's testicles or hearts stuffed with kidneys or half a dozen other things she had been presented with so far. She tipped the jar and gingerly stuck a finger inside. "Pen-ii, no! Lord Elrond will have my hide!" Naurdir looked alarmed. It was too late: Penny already had her finger in her mouth. It was not quite what she had expected. It was sourer than yoghurt but not a dissimilar texture, though it needed stirring since it had separated a little. A little bit of honey or jam and it would be quite pleasant. "Let me have that back. I really think we should get rid of this-" "No, no! I want to eat it. It's good. Well… it needs a little sweetening, perhaps, but-" "Pen-ii, you cannot have milk just yet and it has been sitting in the heat for all this time. I really do not think-" "Naurdir, this is good for me. The Rohirrim said so and I agree." "With all my respect to the Rohirrim, I think we elves know better what is good for-" "Where I come from we say this stuff is very good. Gives you long life." Naurdir raised a very sceptical eyebrow at that comment. "Makes you healthy. Good for your stomach." "Indeed?" Elrond's voice cut across before Naudir could respond. He wandered over to where they had been gently bickering. He smiled. "It is so gratifying when you have these brief recollections of your past, Pen-ii. That is wonderful." Penny knew that comment was for Naurdir's benefit. "So what is this thing that the Rohirrim have given us and you seem to find familiar?" Penny held out the pot to him. "Yoghurt." Elrond blinked. "Iogget?" Penny nodded. "Yes, that is what we call it in my tongue and that is what this is. Or at least it is very like it. Not quite the same, perhaps. We make it from cow's milk and it is sweeter, but this is very similar. I am sure it would have the same effect." "I am not sure your stomach could bear it, Pen-ii," Elrond replied hesitantly, taking the pot from her and peering at the contents. "I have heard of such a thing – this thickened, fermented milk. It is like curds and yet not nearly so sour. It is why I insisted Naurdir keep it since I was undecided as to whether to allow you to have this or not. The Rohirrim do have some wisdom in their methods, after all. I remember Estel telling me of people in the East who eat something like this as part of their everyday diet, and a little south of Dol Amroth also." "Well, it will not keep much longer," Penny looked at him. "Do you think I could…?" She trailed off. "Take a very little this evening and see how you fare. Only a very small amount, mind. If it does not make you ill once more, then you may finish it tomorrow." Thus the following morning Penny had yoghurt for breakfast mixed with a little honey. Rhimlath looked particularly unimpressed. "Do I want to know?" He raised a suspicious eyebrow at Penny's bowl. "Not if you're going to be dismissive and rude about it, no." Rhimlath's second eyebrow joined his first somewhere up near his hairline. "I see." Penny ignored him. Penny grew progressively stronger, though she had aches in her joints on occasion – clearly an after-effect of whatever bug it was that she had had – and her recovery was slow. She had lost quite a bit of weight and looked pale and gaunt. She continued with the honey and herbal infusions, but she no longer needed to have the revolting jam concoction (for which she was truly grateful). The other ellith all returned to her tent now she was slowly on the mend. She still travelled on the cart for the time being, though. She was not up to walking for anything more than five minutes at a time and at least in the cart she could lie down if she needed to. Ten days after leaving Edoras, the weather was much as it always was: a blue sky with the occasional bright white cloud drifting above them. As the morning grew on, the occasional copses they passed through on the road melded one into the other. By early afternoon they were entirely surrounded by trees: they had reached the forest of the Drúadan. However, within a few hours they had passed out into countryside once more, and it was clear they were not going to pass through the wood, rather that the road swung out to the north and looped round the forest in a great, wide swerve before bending back round to the south and towards Minas Tirith. It was getting towards dusk. Penny had decided to stretch her legs a little and was walking near the cart, listening to Mireth and Rhimlath chattering away as the trees disappeared on either side of them and the forest sat dark and gloomy to their right. She was so absorbed that she did not look around her at first, and it was a little while, as the conversation ended and someone a little way ahead of them started singing, before she looked up and took note of the change in scenery. It was only then that she saw, straight ahead of her, a long line of dark mountains that ran along the horizon from north to south. For several minutes she said nothing, merely stared as if unable to process quite what she was looking at. They seemed so… ordinary. Penny blinked. It was just a line of bog-standard mountains. Nothing especially odd about them in the slightest. She felt no fear looking at them: there was no glowering menace about them. Admittedly, there was no filthy black cloud lying over them these days and no great evil menace holed up within, but even so she had expected to sense something. That said, of course, she wondered if they would not have seemed very menacing indeed even just four months ago. The weight of history in her mind made up for the ordinary look of them, though. Her imagination quickly supplied what her immediate impression had lacked. She had so many stories racing through her head at that moment, and not just the ones she had arrived in Middle-earth already knowing. Elrond and Erestor had answered her questions about the Battle of the Last Alliance, though it had been clear some of the memories had been a little painful even for them to recount at times. She wondered how they must feel, how the any of them must feel, to be so close to this place once more, even if Sauron was now gone and any threat from it was over at long last. She finally looked about her. Elves were still singing, many chatting as if nothing untoward had occurred, but Erestor and Glorfindel, riding a little way behind her saw her look, caught her eye and furrowed their brows a little. She stood still and let them catch her up and, when they had done so, she pointed. "Mordor," she said simply. What else was there to say? They nodded, their faces slightly grim as she said the name. They continued in silence and Penny noticed she was now not the only one to glance towards the mountains on occasion. That night, even though darkness had fallen, she could not help staring in the direction of that blighted land. "It is strange to be so near to it at last, is it not?" Mireth said, following Penny's gaze. "Yes. I cannot get it out of my head, and yet… when I saw the mountains they seemed so unremarkable." "But the weight of dark years lies upon them. From this distance, perhaps, but I am sure if you were to get closer…" Mireth did not finish her sentence. Penny did not doubt there were still dark things living there and, even if they were not, it was an evil place full of malice. She remembered that feeling of pure terror she had sensed from Gandalf, his quiet voice rumbling away in her head, when he had spoken of the threat Sauron posed, of the darkness that had been potentially about to engulf them all. She shuddered involuntarily. "He is laid low at last," Rhimlath murmured. "All was not in vain, no matter how many were lost." "You were there?" Rhimlath nodded, then turned slightly to stare into the night towards Mordor. He was only roused out of his reverie by someone singing a ballad of Gil-galad. Penny could see from several of the faces in the flickering firelight that Rhimlath was not alone in reliving memories of a dark and distant hour. Elrond was staring into the flames of the campfire, Arwen leaning up against him, her head on his shoulder as she listened to the song. Penny wondered why Elrond had refused to take on the role of High King once Gil-galad had fallen. By his lineage he had had every right to accept it. Had the loss of Gil-galad been too great a blow? "Times change. Our time has been waning for long years, Lady Pen-ii, I know you know this." Galadriel, walking past, had stopped in front of Penny and was looking at her, her head tilted slightly to one side, a faint smile on her face almost as if she seemed amused. "Lord Elrond was under no obligation. Besides there were so many of us who had already sailed West by then… or died." Elrond had glanced in their direction at the mention of his name. "It is nothing, Elrond. Penny is thinking over our history, that is all. She is no different from any of us, perhaps, this night. Many of us that lived through it have never forgotten, but to be once more in the sight of where so much was lost-" "Yet you won. You had peace for long years afterwards." "True. But he returned. Even without the Ring he became powerful once more." "Not to full strength. And he is defeated at last." "And so our time ends, Pen-ii. We will leave, and Arda will not know our light again." It was a terribly depressing thought to go to bed on. 'Thanks for that, Galadriel,' Penny thought to herself bitterly as she settled down under her blanket. It was something she didn't really like to think about too hard. She knew Elrond had made it clear she could stay in Imladris if she so wished, but he would be gone in a little over two years. His sons would stay, of course, but for how long? Forever? Or just a few years? It was all very well her wanting to stay in Imladris, but she may not, in reality, have that option. And now Minas Tirith, the only other alternative, was literally only round the corner. That night there had been a distant rumbling from the direction of the forest on and off, almost as if there was a thunder storm up in the nearby White Mountains. The elves had seemed entirely unconcerned by it, though Penny had had no doubt they could all hear it better than she could. Though she had known there was no reason to fear – the Drúedain were friends not foe, and surrounded by this many warrior elves she was well protected even if they were not –it had still given her a slight shiver, an eerie frisson running through her as she listened to the wild men communicating through the wood. During the next couple of days, though, the forest was silent as they slowly followed the curve of the road inexorably to the east and then the south-east. For the rest of the journey till they reached Minas Tirith, Penny would remain far more aware of that dark line of distant mountains than she was of the far nearer, looming peaks of the White Mountains to her right. The Mountains of Shadow would occasionally be screened from view by a copse or hedges or else as the road sloped gently into a hollow, but even then they were always in her mind's eye. It was faintly bizarre and entirely her own imagination's doing, but she could not stop it for all that she tried to reason with herself. Then at last, nearly two weeks after leaving Edoras, they passed by the hill of Amon Dîn and made camp just to the East of it under the eaves of the grey wood. Orcs had been here. It was obvious even to Penny. Many of the trees had been burnt, several felled so there were only rough-hewn stumps, and the ground was littered with debris – split branches and old meat bones. Much like the edges of Lothlorien, grass and flowers were quickly reclaiming these scars and covering them over, but it was a stark reminder of the vicious battle that had taken place not so very far from here. Penny was warned not to wander off into the woods. "I am sure they will have scoured the area for fallen weapons, but it is always possible one small blade was missed. Better you leave it to rot in the dirt than you are cut unwittingly by a poisoned or cursed dagger." Penny blinked at Celebdor for a moment. She knew he was being perfectly serious, but it was still probably one of the weirdest things anyone had ever said to her. That night as they sat around the camp fire, there was a sense of impending excitement about them all. It was a contrast to the slightly dark brooding of only a few nights before, but here the singing, while not exactly raucous, was certainly very jolly. There was even impromptu dancing at one point. Penny was dragged to her feet by Lindir who spun her round a few times before she insisted she really had to sit down. He realised it had probably been an unwise move on his part to keep her dancing for so long and helped her back to the edges of the crowd so she could sit next to Eleniel. "It's ridiculous! I have no energy. The slightest thing tires me!" "It is to be expected," Eleniel said quietly. "And you managed an entire dance, Pen-ii, which I would hardly call a 'slight thing', even if it was a little rash." "Lindir hardly gave me a choice, Eleniel." She laughed. "True." Of course, tomorrow was Midsummer's Eve and tomorrow they would reach Minas Tirith. The ellyn had washed the previous evening and a great effort had been made to find a suitable spot for the ellyth to bathe this evening. Everyone had got out fresh clothes for the following day – most of them amongst their finest, so as to make the best impression on arrival. Then the day after that, Arwen would finally meet her destiny and her fate: a wedding, the joining of two great royal lines – so no wonder the elves were in a party mood. Even Elrond joined in, joking and even having a dance or two with his mother-in-law. Penny wondered if he was truly at ease. He had had long years to come to terms with it, but it must still be a terrible moment for him. If it was, though, he was not showing it. It all went on late into the night. There was quite a bit of wine flowing too. Penny eventually left them to it and fell asleep to the sound of laughter and singing, wondering what Gondor would hold in store for her. Author's Notes: Honey is considered an excellent curative for many illnesses in many cultures. It is particularly prized for its effectiveness on stomach upsets in the Middle East. Sugar (or honey) and salt (only a small amount of each in a glass of water) is a curative to help the body absorb water more easily – a necessary thing for someone with severe diarrhoea, since it's the dehydration that kills. It is the equivalent of things like 'Dioralyte' or similar products (though not as effective, perhaps, but it does the job). I had remembered this, but if I had not, then would have had my memory jogged by the many who pointed it out in reviews of the last chapter. Thank you all. Yoghurt, with the live bacteria it contains, is known to be very efficacious, especially in replenishing the bacteria that naturally live in the gut and can be flushed out during a particularly severe attack of stomach flu or food poisoning. (Thanks to MumstheWord for reminding me of that fact). |
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