Healing Hope

Chapter Sixty-Four

My Cup Runneth Over

Sometimes in the evenings when you do not see, I study the small things you do constantly.

I memorize moments that I’m fondest of...

My cup runneth over with love.

Words and music by Tom Jones and Harvey Schmidt

Sometimes in the morning when shadows are deep

I lie here beside you just watching you sleep

Thranduil came to a wakeful state almost immediately. He required little rest, and so enjoyed lying here with the tiny human in his arms. Living underground, there was no dewy light to gradually bring one to consciousness...no lark to greet one with its lilting morning song. Those were two of the things he missed most. Oh, he had long ago grown accustomed to living most of his time in halls lit by torches; it was a small enough price to pay for the safety of those he led, but he longed for the day when the elves of Mirkwood might emerge from their fortress to once more live in the trees.

The king was aware when Nárë quietly entered the chamber to light the lamps indicating morning. Out in the corridor, torches would be being lit to bring the hallways into what passed for full light. During the nighttime hours only every third torch was left burning so that the evening light could be simulated. Each morning Nárë entered Thranduil’s rooms to begin his morning ritual. Always the lanterns would be lit and then the pair would share a pot of tea brought soon after. After a light meal they would retire to Nárë’s workout room where Sword Master and King would hone their skills against each other.

Lately, however, the pair had amended their schedule to spend more time with Estel. Nárë had never bonded, so Legolas was a close to a son as he would ever have. He and Thranduil had rediscovered the joys of having a small child around to nurture, and they were taking full advantage of the experience.

“Ada?”

Thranduil and Nárë smiled at the predictable awakening of this little one. Every morning he woke with that word on his lips. The King smiled at Estel’s sleep heavy eyes. The child’s head was topped by a riot of curls that bounced around as he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. “You will irritate your eyes if you continue to rub them like that, little one,” said Thranduil.

“Is my Ada here?” Estel asked hopefully.

And sometimes I whisper what I’m thinking of...

My cup runneth over with love

Falathar was sleeping, predictably, with Gelleth keeping watch over him. The apprentice had barely left the warrior’s side since his surgery. The First Healer repeatedly told her that such close observation was not warranted, but all to no avail. Gelleth watched the warrior for any signs of internal bleeding and changed his bandages two and three times a day.

For his part, Falathar had been practically oblivious to the extra special care that he was receiving. Indeed, he slept for much of the time, especially after the hilarity during Legolas’ visit. The Chief of the King’s Guard had laughed until he wore himself out that day, but he deemed it had been worth it.

Now, afraid that Falathar had overtaxed his strength, Gelleth was beside herself with worry and guilt. Not only had she force-fed the Prince that vile concoction, but she had allowed Falathar to laugh until he rolled on the bed. Why, the very thought of it now chilled her blood. What was she thinking? He could have torn every internal stitch so painstakingly put in by Thedin with such activity.

So here she sat, watching him sleep and practically counting the breaths as his chest rose and ebbed evenly. Gelleth sighed dreamily as she studied his face; tracing every line with her eyes...allowing them to linger on his soft, full lips. Unconsciously, Gelleth ran her tongue over her bottom lip, momentarily lost in that world of dreams to which every maiden traveled.

Thedin paused at the doorway and sighed. He hoped that Falathar healed soon so that he might have his best apprentice back by his side. He could not help but smile at the love sick elleth, and he wondered whether or not she realized just how transparent her emotions were. Well, whatever...she was dear to him, as was Falathar, so he hoped they would share many happy years together. For now, however, he needed her. “Gelleth...”

Gelleth started guiltily, as though her thoughts had been read, and looked up at Thedin. “Yes, First Healer?”

“I have made some more salve for Estel’s face, and I would like for you to take it to him,” Thedin said. “I believe you will find him in the King’s quarters.”

“Yes, First Healer,” the apprentice replied as Thedin left to fetch the salve. Longingly she glanced back for a last glimpse at Falathar. With a quick look around to make sure no one could see her through the door way, Gelleth leaned down to complete the ritual she had started every time she left Falathar’s side. “I love you, Falathar,” she whispered, turning to leave.

But leave she did not. Gelleth’s heart nearly stopped when a hand shot out to grasp her wrist. Horrified, she glanced back to confirm her worst fears...Falathar’s eyes were clear and focused, and fixed on her.

Slowly a smile spread across the warrior’s face. “Would you like to repeat that?”

Sometimes in the evening when you do not see

I study the small things you do constantly

Legolas and Estel spent much of the day outside where the child could drink in the fresh air and sunshine. Thedin had noted that the boy was growing paler by the day and prescribed more sunlight for the small human.

Now, as Anor sank slowly towards the west, the pair was joined by Thranduil and Nárë. The King had decreed that they would share a picnic under the stars and Estel was beside himself with excitement, for normally they were safely ensconced inside the fortress long before darkness kissed the earth and the light of Ithil cast silvery shadows.

The four were sitting together on a flet far above the forest floor, but very close to the palace entrance. Nearby, but out of sight, guards remained vigilant as they kept a protective watch over the King, his heir, the Sword Master, and the little boy. Nárë had been very specific in his instructions...this night was to be for relaxation for the King. No orcs, Uruks, spiders, or any other vermin would get through his warriors, of that he was sure.

The swelling on Estel’s face had receded leaving only the purple bruises bearing witness of his maltreatment. His arm remained in the makeshift splint fashioned by Thedin. The child had long since grown used to his arm being so encumbered and now hardly gave thought to the concessions his body made in adjusting to the loss of the limb’s function.

Estel was currently lying on his back being tickled by Nárë. His childish giggles floated through the trees.

Watching the pair carry on were Thranduil and Legolas, sitting cross legged side by side. Legolas was searching through the container of food provided by the Royal kitchens for their enjoyment. A smile of delight blessed his features as he pulled out the “fit for a King” fare. Three different kinds of cheese were included as well as freshly baked bread, smoked fish, a variety of nuts and dried fruit, and best of all, Legolas’ favorite treat, honey almond rolls. A cold crock of milk had also been sent up for Estel, while a full flask of the richest red wine was provided for the elves.

Sighing softly, Thranduil pulled his eyes from Estel and Nárë’s antics to feast on his son. Too rare these dark days did he have the opportunity to spend quality time with his only offspring. Legolas, as Prince of Mirkwood and arguably the best archer in the Kingdom, spent most of his days seeing to the day to day defenses of Mirkwood. When he was not on patrol or in an official duty, the Prince roamed Arda meeting new beings and enjoying all the wonders that he could behold.

I memorize moments that I’m fondest of...

My cup runneth over with love.

It seemed as though Elrond had spent days and days in this rock-ing chair while keeping vigil at his son’s bedside. Like many parents, Elrond had memorized his fondest memories of his children’s growing up, banking them against the day when he might need to call upon them for comfort or reminders of childhoods long past.

At the moment he was thinking of the first week Estel spent with them. It had been a few days since the twins brought the child home cold and frightened, and in all the time since he had not smiled or made a sound other than piercing cries when he felt vulnerable. It broke Elrond’s heart to see the huge solemn eyes look entreatingly to him as the little hands kept a death-grip on his clothes as though he feared being pulled away from his newfound security.

Nights were the worst. The child was traumatized by the events surrounding the death of his father and became fearful once darkness fell. Elrond, with ample help from the twins, Erestor and even Glorfindel, spent each night with the child, ready to hold him each time he awoke crying. One night Estel was particularly fretful and Glorfindel swept him up into his arms and began walking back and forth. He took a path back and forth from the door to where Elrond was sitting, watching him with a brow upraised in amusement.

When Estel’s cries became more strident, Glorfindel walked back over to stand where the child could see Elrond. Estel quieted slightly, so the Balrog Slayer began to sway back and forth. Miraculously, Estel began to quiet down until only hiccups were left of his cries.

Within minutes Erestor and the twins migrated into the room, anxious to see by what magic Estel’s cries had been silenced. They found the child, wrapped in the soft blanket he had become attached to, cuddled in Glorfindel’s arms while the mighty warrior rocked back and forth.

The next day Glorfindel stayed locked away in a work shed. When he emerged, he bore a crazy looking contraption. He carried the rock-ing chair, as he called it, straight up to Elrond’s room, where the boy was being temporarily housed, followed by the curious inhabitants of the Last Homely House.

“What is it?” asked Elrohir.

“It will turn over if you lean back,” added Elladan.

“An elf could get the sea sickness sitting on a moving chair like that,” opined Erestor, “and whatever are you doing with bells on it?”

“Asfaloth has obligingly agreed to share some of his bridle bells,” said Glorfindel. He continued doing what he was doing, and ignored the teasing from Erestor and the twins. Drawn by the commotion, Elrond came into the room carrying Estel. The Elf Lord had been working in the library with the tot on his lap when he heard the soft sound of bells and caught a glimpse of Glorfindel walking by with his chair.

Finished, Glorfindel looked up at the four elves and one child. “Well, are we ready to test my invention?”

“You are actually going to sit in that…that…thing?” asked Erestor incredulously.

Glorfindel acted affronted. “It is perfectly safe.”

The twins wore identical expressions of skepticism, but if this thing worked to calm Estel and restore peace to the house, they were all for it.

Gingerly sitting in the chair, Glorfindel smiled and held out his arms for the child.

Elrond looked back and forth from Estel to the warrior as though gauging whether or not to place the little bundle of yellow wrapped child into the outstretched arms. Estel’s eyes never left Elrond. Very deliberately, Elrond looked at Estel and spoke softly to him, assuring him that he would be right there. Ever so slowly, Elrond lowered Estel into Glorfindel’s arms. Estel tensed as soon as Elrond released him, and the little family held its collective breaths waiting for the coming explosion of sound…but none came, for Glorfindel had begun rocking back and forth in his chair while smiling at Estel. With each rock the tinkle of the bridle bells serenaded the child.

Then something quite extraordinary happened…Estel giggled, and it was the sweetest sound they had heard in a long time. Before long the child was fast asleep on Glorfindel’s shoulder as the elf beamed his pleasure.

“You are a genius,” praised Elrohir, who had heard enough of the boy’s piercing cries to last him a thousand years.

“How did you think of it?” asked Erestor, still somewhat skeptical of the mechanics of the chair, but quite appreciative of the apparatus’ ability to soothe the newest inhabitant of their home.

“Estel gave me the idea,” claimed Glorfindel. “He quieted last night as I swayed back and forth with him.”

“Well, I for one am thrilled,” said Elladan. “I never would have believed that one so small could make so much noise.”

Until this time Elrond had remained quiet and the three other elves now looked at him expectantly.

“Well?” prompted Elladan. “What do you think of it, Ada?”

Elrond looked at Glorfindel and tilted his head, appreciating the soft tinkle of the bells. “Can you make one for every room?”

The soft chuckles of his family still echoed in his memory as the smiled to himself. The bells had long since been removed from the chair, but the chair itself remained an integral part of the family experience.

“Ada?’

Elrond’s attention was immediately fixed on the bed. “Elladan,” he breathed. “Welcome back, son.”

In only a moment we both will be old

We won’t even notice the world turning cold

Estel’s giggles could be heard from the ground beneath the flet as he and Legolas searched for and chased lightening bugs. The child was fascinated by the little glowing insects and, aided by the Prince, delighted in coaxing one to land on his outstretched finger

Sitting on the flet above, Thranduil and Nárë talked quietly, and finally lapsed into a companionable silence, content to listen to the excited bits of conversation drifting up from below.

“I remember the first time I took Legolas to watch the fireflies,” mused Nárë.

“Fireflies?”

Nárë smiled, “That is what we called them when Veryo and I were young and still living in Eregion.” He laughed quietly to himself. “My father claimed my fascination with them sprang from my name.”

“Well,” chuckled Thranduil, “you are the son of Flame.”

“So I am,” agreed Nárë. He sighed contentedly and leaned back against the supporting tree. “It has been millennia since Veryo and I were elflings, and yet somehow it seems only yesterday.”

Thranduil smiled. “It is the same for me with Legolas. He was such a delightful elfling, and still is in many ways.”

Nárë snorted softly. “Do not let your son hear you utter such a sentiment.”

“Legolas is a fierce warrior while still maintaining an elfling’s wonder of discovery.”

Nárë nodded. “It is hard for me to imagine the short time that Estel will dwell on Arda...his life but a season compared to ours.”

Thranduil thought about his words and then confessed, “When I first met Estel, I warned Legolas not to become attached to him for that very reason, and do you know what he told me?”

Nárë’s cocked his head to one side as he listened, fascinated. “I have no idea...”

“He told me that he would gladly accept the later grief for the present joy of knowing Estel.”

“Your son is very wise, my friend,” declared Nárë.

The pair lapsed into silence once more, each lost in his own thoughts as he listened to the night sounds around them. Below, two friends continued their adventure.

And so, in these moments with sunlight above

My cup runneth over with love

TBC