Healing Hope

Chapter Forty-Four

Sharing the Stars

“Reach high, for stars lie hidden in your soul.” Unknown

Imladris

With the dawn approaching, arda seemed to be holding its breath waiting for the first warming glimmers of light to creep across the valley as torches flickered in the sconces affixed to the walls on each side of the front doors of the Last Homely House.  The air was thick with the heady scent of the roses from Celebrían’s garden as those gathering in the pre dawn talked softly amongst themselves.

The twins and Erestor, elated to finally be released from the healing rooms, were on the front steps bidding farewell to Celeborn and Galadriel.  Mithrandir was leaving soon after, but had been persuaded to linger for a break of fast before his departure.  Besides thinking of the wizard’s comfort, Elrond wanted to assure himself that the Maia would not mention Estel’s presence or even his existence to anyone else.

Her grandparents were already mounted and ready to go as Arwen went to say her farewell to her father in his study.  She stood quietly in the door watching him for a moment before entering.  The familiar room was awash in shadows, lit by only the small lantern resting on her father’s map table.  “Namárië, Ada,” she choked, running across the room and clinging to him as she had as a child.  “Hiraetha im.”

“Iston,” Elrond soothed.  “Henion.”

“Do not come outside, please,” she begged, “for I fear I cannot make a second farewell.”  Arwen was sure it would be too difficult for both of them.  “If you come outside I will not have the courage to leave you.”  

“And yet you must,” he answered, setting her from him.  He cupped her beloved face and dried the tear tracks with his thumbs.  “Go with your grandparents and heal, my daughter, for I want only happiness for you.”

“I am a coward,” she blurted unhappily.

“No, Arwen, you are following your heart, as we all must.”

Elrond kissed her forehead and then took her hands and kissed each of them.  “When you ready, we will be here,” he said softly.  “Until that day, be at peace in Lórien, and fear not for your family.”

Arwen nodded, turned and left the room quickly, for she could not bear to think of leaving, and yet she could not bear to stay either. Lingering one last moment at the door, she looked back.  “Le gar meleth nín Ada”.  She was gone before he could respond.

 As Arwen walked out the front door and spotted her brothers, she ran to them, wrapping an arm around each to be engulfed in their duel hug.  “Take care of yourselves, and come to visit Lórien.”

“We will,” answered Elladan.

“Perhaps we will bring Estel with us next time,” added Elrohir with a smile.

“Do that,” Arwen begged, “for I would love to meet the one who has brought such healing to your hearts.”

“It is my turn, Aewithen,” said Erestor, holding out his arms.

Arwen kissed her brothers on the cheek and walked into Erestor’s embrace. 

“Avo osto, child, I shall look after your family,” he vowed. 

“You always have,” she acknowledged.  “What would we do without you and Glorfindel?”

“You need never ask that question, Aewithen,” he responded, “for we will always be here.”  He looked deeply into her eyes to affirm his pledge.

“Estel mín,” added Glorfindel, getting his own hug.  “Go now in peace, Arwen, and return to us in joy.” 

“Come child,” Celeborn said softly, for he could tell that to prolong the goodbyes would only be more difficult.  “We must be well on our way before this day is done.”

Arwen quickly mounted her horse and turned, with only one backward glance and a quick wave.

Elrohir sighed deeply as the wind picked up slightly and blew a few strands of his hair across his face.  “Do you think she will ever be able to return here, El?”

“One day she will,” Elladan vowed.  “One day she will.”

O-o-O-o-O

Estel was thoroughly miserable and trying desperately to blink back his tears. “Stars?” he asked weakly.

“What is that, Estel?” asked Thedin. “I do not understand.”

“I understand,” smiled Legolas. “Estel wants to see the stars.”

Thedin shook his head sadly. “The sun is rising and the stars will not reappear for some hours.”

“I know where we can find some stars,” said Legolas, with a wink at Estel. “If you will allow me to take Estel to my room to rest, he can go to sleep looking at the stars.”

Thedin looked from Estel to Legolas, carefully weighing the possible consequences as well as the advantages of allowing the child to remain in the prince’s room.  The child should be closely monitored for any additional rise of temperature or infection in the wound site, but on the other hand, he would rest more easily in a more familiar setting, given that he was already far from home and his family.  “Very well,” he said, addressing Estel, “since you were such a good patient, I will allow you to sleep in Prince Legolas’ room where you may see the stars.”

Estel smiled weakly in thanks.

“But first,” qualified the healer, “I would like for you to drink something that will help you to rest.”

Estel wrinkled his nose, but did not complain as he drank down the bitter liquid.

“He is already exhausted from this ordeal,” worried Legolas.

“The draught is not a sedative, my prince,” reprimanded Thedin gently, “but to fight infection.”

Legolas looked puzzled.  “I thought that the bore mite was the cause of his fever.”

“It was the primary source,” Thedin corrected, “but see how the hand is still swollen and red?”

Legolas looked at the part of Estel’s hand that was showing beneath the bandage, and saw how it still retained the ugly and painful looking swelling.  He gasped at the sight and sought the healer’s eyes.  Then he noticed Estel looking at him with worry in his tired eyes.  “Am I going to be sick again, Legolas?”

Thedin shook his head slightly to forestall the conversation that he preferred to have in private.  Estel did not need to hear that he might face further complications from the wound.  Smiling at Estel, Thedin kept his voice light as the addressed Legolas.  “Keep a close watch on the little one, and when you have the chance, I would like to speak with you alone.”

Legolas nodded his understanding.

“Do not hesitate to call upon me if you notice any change in his condition.”

“I will,” Legolas vowed, as he carefully took Estel into his arms.  “Are you ready to go see the stars, Estel?”

“Um huh,” Estel nodded sleepily, resting his head against the prince’s shoulder.   The child had been through an ordeal throughout the night and the exhaustion and pain showed itself in the dark circles underneath his eyes.

As Legolas walked from the healing rooms, Thranduil and Nárë, who had waited out the night on a stone bench cut into the wall of the cavern hallway, stood and met the pair.  The king had obviously found his guard tedious and banished them to the far end of the hallway where they could still see him but he did not feel shadowed by them.

“How is he,” Thranduil asked anxiously, eyeing the bandaged and still bleeding arm.

Nárë placed a reassuring hand on Legolas’ shoulder.  “From the looks of things, neither one of you has had an easy night.”

“Let us put this little one to bed before we talk,” suggested Legolas.

“Are the bugs going to come get me?” asked Estel fearfully. 

Legolas realized that Estel had heard at least snatches of his conversation with Thedin regarding the bore mite even though he was unconscious, for the most part, while they worked on him.  He was frustrated at himself for frightening Estel more. 

“No, child,” assured Thranduil, meeting Legolas eyes.  “I do not allow bugs in my fortress.”

“Promise?” sniffed Estel. 

Thranduil smiled.  “No bug would dare to disobey me; you have my word as a warrior and a king.”

Blood was seeping through the loose bandage, and Legolas could see Estel looking at it.  He started walking towards his chambers followed by his Adar, Nárë, and the ever present guards.  Legolas entered his chamber and went straight to the bed.  The covers had been pulled up and neatened since their precipitous exit the night before, and Thranduil now pulled back the cover so that Legolas could place the child in the middle of the bed.  The king placed an extra pillow underneath Estel’s injured arm so that it could stay elevated and in a more comfortable position.

Once settled, Estel’s glazed eyes sought the stars above and a small smile formed before the bottom lip began to quiver.  “Make it stop, Legolas, please.”

“Make what stop, Estel?”

“The stars are moving,” he wailed, “and my arm really hurts.” 

Legolas did not know how to answer the child and he was heartsick to see him so obviously miserable and in pain.  “I...I must speak with the healer,” he said quickly.  “Adar?”

“Go,” Thranduil answered the unspoken question. “I will stay with Estel.”

Legolas raced from the room.  He was desperate to speak with Thedin and find out exactly what was making Estel see the stars moving and how much longer he would be in such pain.  He also wanted to know what the child would be facing and how he could best help him.

“Now then,” Thranduil crooned, sitting on the side of the bed. “Let us see if we can make you more comfortable.”

Nárë smiled as Thranduil literally crawled up into Legolas’ bed and pulled the child onto his lap, wrapping strong arms around him.  Estel sighed contentedly as he rested his head on the king’s broad chest.  Nárë pulled the extra pillow around and propped it under the wounded arm.  The Noldo frowned as he noticed small bumps appear on the child’s skin.  “What is that?” he whispered anxiously.  Thranduil was as mystified as the Noldo.  He had never seen such a phenomenon. 

“Estel?”

“I am cold,” the boy shivered.

“Nárë,” Thranduil said urgently, “go to my chamber and bring back my ceremonial cloak; it is the closest thing I have to a sunshine blankey.”  At the Noldo’s astonished look, the king laughed, reminding Nárë of just how beautiful he’d always found the sound.   It was soft, low pitched and melodious.  The king shrugged at his confused friend.  “Go, I will explain later.”

“King Adar?”

Thranduil smiled.  “Yes, Tithen pen?”

“Would you tell me a story about when Legolas was little?”

“You liked the story about his bath time as I remember,” murmured the king.  “Well, let me see if I can remember another story for you...”

“When my Greenleaf was very young he was small for his age.  Sometimes he would get very frustrated because he could not do all that the other elflings his age could do.  Once when there was an archery contest, Legolas was very excited because he had been working diligently on his archery and wanted to win the competition for me, but because of his slight frame he came in last.  I could see that he wanted to cry, but he did not.”

“He was brave?” Estel asked thoughtfully. 

“He was very brave, Estel,” Thranduil replied.  The king sighed as he thought back to images that he had buried deep in his mind, hidden away from conscious thought.  “But he was also very young, and sometimes the young do not make the best choices...”

“After the winners had been congratulated I looked for my Greenleaf, but he was no where to be found.  I did not know it at the time but he had decided in his own mind that I must be disappointed in him and figured out a way he thought he could make me proud.”

The king glanced down at the boy.  Estel seemed to be drawing warmth from the king’s bare chest and his eyes dropped sleepily.  Thranduil bestowed a kiss to the soft curls of Estel’s head and continued.

“How he did it, I am not sure, but Legolas managed to sneak out of the cavern without being seen.  He had decided that he would track and kill one of the Mirkwood spiders and thus prove his bravery.” 

“When I found that he was missing, I thought he must be hiding.  My guards and I searched the palace cavern looking every where that an elfling could hide.   When we could not find him I was frantic, for night had fallen and that is the most dangerous time to be outside the caverns.  I knew that if I lost my son that my heart would turn to stone.”

“I grabbed my sword and rushed outside before even my guards could have followed.  I ran searching for him and calling his name until I almost collapsed from fear and dread.  It was when I dropped to my knees, sure that I would never again see my Greenleaf, that I heard him.”

Thranduil paused in his storytelling as the sheer terror and grief of that night hit him again, as fresh a wound now as it was then. 

Nárë came in with the king’s cloak and covered the pair, tucking it around Estel’s shoulders and sat on the foot of the bed.  He’d heard the last part of Thranduil’s story and remembered the night of its happening well, for he had never before or since seen his friend as anxious.  He settled himself comfortably to listen.

Thranduil closed his eyes and continued his remembrance.

“I could hear him softly crying, and it was the sweetest sound I have ever heard.  He was only a short distance away behind some foliage.  I ran to him and gathered him into my arms.”

“Did he do it?”  Estel asked, blinking curiously at the king with huge silver-blue eyes.

Thranduil smiled at the boy.  “Yes, he killed a spider.”

“He did?” Estel breathed in wonder.  “Was he crying because it bit him?”

Nárë chuckled softly at the innocence of the child, for the beast he saw that night could easily have swallowed the elfling whole.”

“No,” Thranduil mused.  “The spider did not harm Legolas.  My Greenleaf was crying because he felt sad that he had killed a living being…even one so monstrous, for such was the tenderness of his heart and the gentleness of his soul.”

“Were you proud of him?” asked Estel, the pain in his arm momentarily forgotten as his interest was caught up in the story.

“I was proud of him before he killed the spider, Estel,” said the king.  “My pride in my son has nothing to do with his prowess as a warrior.”

“Legolas loves you too, King Adar,” responded Estel, surprising the king with his insight.

O-o-O-o-O

Legolas exhausted every question he could think of with the healer.  It took far longer than he expected and as he hurried back to his room he hoped that Estel was not too uncomfortable.  His father’s ever present guards were dutifully standing outside his door, so he knew that the king was still inside.

Opening the door Legolas stopped short, quite astonished at what he was seeing.  The room was pitched in almost complete darkness. Only the shimmering stars, illuminated by the candles placed around the chamber, lit the interior.  Shadowed, but clear to Elven eyesight, Thranduil was perched in the middle of his bed with Estel sound asleep against his chest wrapped in the King’s best cloak, a creamy garment of the softest silk.  Estel’s fingers were wrapped securely around the King’s thumb.  Nárë was lying across the foot of the bed dozing, his mouth slightly open and his arm hanging off the end.

Thranduil glanced up, and the warmth of love lit his already beautiful face.  As always a thrill of pride and admiration ran through his veins at the sight of his son.  “Come Greenleaf, and rest beside your father, for I long to share the stars with you once again.”

TBC

Translations

Hiraetha im – I am sorry          

Iston – I know

Henion – I understand

Estel mín – Trust us

Le gar meleth nín Ada – You have my love, Daddy.

Aewithen – Little Bird

Avo osto – Do not worry