Healing Hope

Chapter Sixty-Five

The Pieces of the Puzzle

“The world is incomprehensible. We won’t ever understand it; we won’t ever unravel its secrets. Thus we must treat the world as it is: a sheer mystery.”  Carlos Castaneda

“Ada?”

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

Elladan smiled weakly at his father.  He struggled to clear his vision after so long with his eyes closed.

Elrond moved over to the side of the bed and gently smoothed back the hair from his firstborn’s forehead, feeling for the warmth there at the same time.

The twin tried to clear his throat.  “Adar, I am thirsty.”

Elrond immediately reached to pour some water from the decanter on the table beside the bed.  “You may have a sip of this.”  He held the cup to his son’s lips.  “Just a small swallow,” the Elf Lord cautioned.

Elladan nodded and sipped the water.  Even that little bit felt wonderful as it cooled his dry throat.  “Please more,” he begged.  His throat and mouth were so parched he could hardly stand it.

Elrond hesitated, but held the cup back for Elladan to drink some more.  “Easy now, Elladan,” he cautioned.  He watched his son drink a bit more of the water and then removed the cup. 

Elladan’s head dropped back onto the pillow, the effort of taking the two drinks exhausting him.  He laid there for a moment with his eyes closed as he gathered his strength.  His eyes opened as he whispered, “What happened to me?”

Elrond met his son’s eyes, masking the concern in his own.  “What do you remember?”

Elladan closed his eyes again as he thought back.  Finally he sighed, opened his eyes and looked at his bandaged shoulder.  “I remember the wound…” his voice trailed off as he tried to recall events after that, but everything seemed wreathed in shadows.  He shook his head in frustration.

Elrond’s eyebrow rose.  “You do not remember riding into the wilds?”

Elladan shook his head.

“…nor hiding your pain from your father?” Elrond prompted wryly.

The twin smiled slightly.  “I most definitely do not remember that, even if I did remember.”

Elrond smiled, cheered to see a bit of his son’s drollness return. 

“Where is Elrohir?” Elladan asked, sobering.  “Where is my brother?”

Elrond hesitated.  He did not want his son to guess the severity of his condition by hearing that Elrohir was dispatched to Mirkwood to bring back Estel.

“Well, what have we here?” interrupted a voice from the doorway, saving Elrond from his dilemma.

“Mithrandir, our treatment seems to have worked; Elladan has awakened,” replied the Elf Lord.

“So I see,” answered Mithrandir, walking over to join Elrond at his son’s bedside.  “You have had quite a nasty time of things, young Elrondion.  I am cheered to see you have rejoined us.”

“Have I been...,” Elladan paused, unsure how to finish, “away?”  The twin was confused by his lack of memory.

Mithrandir’s deep chuckle rumbled around the room as he recalled the long hours he and Elrond spent pouring their power into the twin to break the spell.  “Oh yes, dear one, you have been away, but you have returned now, so let us rejoice.”

Sariboril entered the room carrying a basket full of supplies that she sat on the foot of Elladan’s bed.  “If you two will leave me with my patient, I have some therapy to begin.”

Elrond’s eyebrow rose at the dismissal, but he had much to discuss with Mithrandir.  This would allow the pair to hold that discussion away from Elladan’s hearing, so he would let his healer’s impertinence slide this time.  “What have you in store for my son?”

“He has only just awakened,” added Mithrandir.  “How did you even know you could begin therapy?”

Sariboril smiled enigmatically.  “I have my ways,” she replied.   “As to what I have here...”  Her voice trailed off as she dug through the jumbled contents of the basket. 

Elrond harrumphed softly to himself...even her baskets were untidy!  “Sariboril...”

“Do not start with me, Elrond,” Sariboril cut him off, much to Mithrandir’s pleasure. “Ah, there it is!” She triumphantly held up a terra cotta pot wrapped in many layers of cloth.   “I have prepared some relaxing oils for a hot bath, to be followed by body wrap of soft, perfumed clay,” she explained.

“A body wrap!” exclaimed Elladan.  “Now wait just a minute...”

“And almond lotion for a soothing after-effect,” continued Sariboril, never missing a beat.  “To conclude the session, I will serve you anise-fennel-peppermint tea to release all the remaining stress from your body and mind.”

“Adar...” pleaded Elladan. 

Elrond cleared throat.  “Elladan, has just awakened, Sariboril...”

“Do you think I do not know that?” admonished the healer.  “Think you that I would harm a hair on his precious head?”

Mithrandir snorted at that statement and was forced to turn quickly around to hide his amusement from the excitable healer.

Elladan rolled his eyes.  If Elrohir, or worse yet the pesky Prince of Mirkwood, saw him being bathed and body wrapped by Sariboril he would never hear the end of it!  Why Legolas would enter his mind, he could not quite reason out in his confused state, but actually – now that he really thought about it – the idea of soaking in some hot water did rather appeal to him.  He felt rather gritty and wondered fleetingly how long he had been abed.   

Elrond watched Elladan closely, ready to step in should the twin truly object to Sariboril’s idea.  He, too, thought that it would do the twin good to be pampered a bit.  “Very well,” he agreed, as though she had actually asked his opinion, “but Glorfindel must help Elladan to and from the bed.”

Elladan opened his mouth to protest, but Elrond fixed him with “the look” as his son’s called it, and so Elladan just closed his mouth.  At this point he would just have to endure the cosseting, and pray that Elrohir did not venture into the room!

O-o-O-o-O

“Mithrandir...”  Elrond caught up to the wizard as he reached the second landing. 

“Hum?’ Mithrandir, deep in thought, roused himself and looked inquiringly at Elrond.  “Forgive me, what did you say?”

“Would you join me on the terrace?”  Elrond descended to the last step and then held out his arm for Mithrandir to precede him to the study.  He wished to use the terrace that opened from his sanctuary, for it afforded ultimate privacy.

“Of course…of course,” agreed the wizard.  He turned and walked to the study and then waited as Elrond led the way outside.  This talk was long overdue.  Mithrandir had been wondering how long it would take before they got around to it.

Elrond chose a chair and motioned for Mithrandir to take another one closest to him.  The Elf Lord settled into his seat and sighed deeply as he looked out over the peaceful vista.  His mind was far from peaceful and he longed to calm the turmoil within his being.

The sound of the falls was most pronounced on this side of the Last Homely House and, as always, Mithrandir found it peaceful.   Mithrandir waited, content to pass the time enjoying the view until Elrond broached the subject that had to be on his mind. 

After a time of the pair sitting in silence, an elf from the kitchens brought out a pot of tea for them.  The elleth sat the tray on the table between them, poured cups for each, and then left immediately.

Elrond reached for his cup and drank the beverage down all at once, much to Mithrandir’s surprise.  He had never seen the esteemed Elf Lord guzzle his tea in such a manner. 

Elrond sat the cup back on the table and steepled his long fingers before his face.  Finally he began his story.  “Last year when Estel was rescued from where he was buried, he told me he heard voices calling to him.  At the time, I dismissed it as fevered delusions…”

“And now,” prompted the Maia, “what do you think?”

Elrond sighed deeply.  “Now, I do not know.  Several times Estel has had nightmares where he told me that a voice was seeking him…asking his name.”

Mithrandir frowned. “Do you mean specifically asking his name?”

Elrond nodded, thoughtfully.  “Someone is seeking the son of Arathorn…by name.  Thankfully Estel does not remember that name and therefore could not betray his location, but I am not easy with the knowledge that someone has reached into his dreams.  Did you find anything amiss at Isengard?”

Mithrandir immediately felt defensive, but given all that his friend had been through recently, he released the negative emotion and opened his mind to the impossible.  Had he seen anything amiss?  “Radagast the brown was in residence,” he began hesitantly.  “That, in and of itself, is not unusual…”

“But?”  It was Elrond’s turn to question.

“But…,” continued Mithrandir, “he said something unusual to me that provoked censure from Saruman.”

Elrond unconsciously leaned forward in his chair.  “What did he say?”

Mithrandir felt the same caution quivering from Narya that he had felt at the time Radagast said the words.  “I am returning to my birds, no more to seek the child.”

Had Elrond not been sitting, he would quickly have had to do so, so shocked was he.  He forced himself to remain calm.  “You say that Saruman reacted…strongly…to those words.”

Mithrandir was becoming somewhat agitated. Elrond noted that his hand kept returning to the pocket of his robe.

“Take out your pipe, my friend,” said Elrond.  “If ever there was a time for your nerves to be calmed, surely it is now.”

Mithrandir was astonished, for never had he been invited to smoke in Elrond’s presence, but he was grateful for the opportunity.  It helped him to think, or so he imagined, to puff contentedly on his pipe.  He took out his pipe before Elrond changed his mind.

As Mithrandir worked to light his benighted pipe, Elrond mulled over his words.  Did they mean what he feared, or was there a perfectly innocent explanation?  Before long the stench of the weed began to penetrate Elrond’s senses, but such was the measure of his concern that he did not even particularly register the irritant with his conscious mind.  Why would Radagast be seeking Estel?  Was he working for another?   “Mithrandir, were you asked whether or not a child was being sheltered here?”

The wizard nodded his head slowly.

“By Radagast?”

“No,” answered Mithrandir reluctantly, “it was Saruman.”

Again, Vilya sang on Elrond’s finger, and he felt of it with his thumb, stroking and soothing the warm metal.  “Did you not think that unusual?” he asked, fixing the Wizard with a look that had frozen others in place.

“I will confess that it gave me pause,” he admitted, “but I did as I promised and lied to the head of my order that no child was at Imladris.”  It still did not sit well with Mithrandir to have withheld the truth from Saruman, and yet...his heart did have a peace about the decision.

“That was not a lie, for Estel is not here.”

Mithrandir frowned. “Word games, Elrond?”

Elrond smiled wryly. “I learned them from the twins; they are quite adept at not answering direct questions.”  He grew serious again.  “Would Radagast have had the ability to cast the spell that we broke within my son?”

“Before we encountered the spell, I would have said yes, but now I am not so sure.  What I experienced felt more complex.”

“I agree, as though the spell itself was masked with layer upon layer of ambiguity.”

  “Now I have a question for you,” countered Mithrandir. “Have there been more attacks by the invisible orcs?”

Elrond met his gaze, “Not since shortly after you left for Isengard.”

“Not since I let it be known there was no child here you mean?”

“I did not say that,” replied Elrond, “but I find the timing too great to be mere coincidence.”

It was Mithrandir’s turn to sigh deeply.  “I have not the information to be able to draw conclusions, for much is still cloudy.”

“The important thing is that Estel can return to his home,” conceded Elrond.  “I will keep him safely here while we continue to ponder this puzzle.”

Mithrandir nodded.  “All shall be revealed in time.”

Elrond leaned back in his seat already contemplating having Estel back in his arms.

O-o-O-o-O

Legolas watched as Estel sat with a black kitten in his lap.  He marveled at how gently the boy petted the furry ball, all the while chatting to it about his Fluffy.  

The Prince had taken the child outside to enjoy the afternoon sunshine and watch as Anor sank towards the western mountains.  He glanced up at the burning ball to gauge how much longer he could keep Estel outside.  He preferred to have the child inside before darkness fell, even within sight of the great gates. 

“Celos and Celon take care of me too,” chatted Estel, having moved past all the stories of Fluffy.  He giggled as the kitten began to lick the palm of his hand, tickling him. 

As Estel continued to play with his kitten, Legolas pondered all that he knew about the child.  He had long felt that there was something unique about Estel, but now he was beginning to get the sense of just how special he was.  The Prince had been going to Imladris for many years and had met many of the line of Elendil.

Estel leaned over to put his ear against the kitten’s side, listening to the rumble within.  He smiled at the comforting sound.  The kitten rolled out of Estel’s lap and ran into the bushes.  Estel sighed contentedly and turned trusting eyes towards Legolas.

 As Estel looked up at him with those expressive silver-blue eyes, Legolas felt a thrill of recognition go down his spine as all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.  Of course, Estel was of the line of kings.

“My Prince,” called the sentry.  “A party approaches; it bears the banner of Imladris.”

TBC