Chapter 2 – Of Healing and Herbs

Later that afternoon as was promised Estel was allowed to share time in the herbarium with Elrond.  Drying bundles of herbs were on one shaded side of the herbarium.  The scents and smells of the varying bundles gently mingled together creating an intoxicating scent that invited the young boy’s imagination and thirst for knowledge to run rampant.  As he walked in with his adar Estel was filled with expectation and wonder. His Ada healed with these plants and roots.  It seemed like magic to his young eyes and admiration of his Ada grew by leaps and bounds.  He had seen his Ada at work healing and making the sick whole again.  Like last summer when little Intyarë fell near the small falls.  He could still hear the healing chant Elrond had sung.  His adar had truly worked magic that day.  Thinking of that day, however, brought to mind his own earlier foolishness on this day.  He looked at Elrond a little sheepishly as he watched him ready a space for the day's work.

Elrond side glanced his small son as he was readying herbs for mixing and saw the sheepish and guilty look cross the young grey eyes.  He waited to see what he would say, to see if he would own up to his foolish actions of earlier.  He did not have to wait long.

"Ada?" came the small voice that presaged his son's frequent bouts of honesty that followed misbehaviour.

"Aye, Estel." Elrond offered.  He waited patiently as he went about his setting up.

Hesitantly Estel continued, "Elladan and I didn't really go for a swim at the small falls."

"Really..." Elrond let the open invitation hang in the air.

"He..."  Estel hesitated, and then blurted out what had actually happened, "had to fish me out of the stream because I slipped when taking a shower in the falls."

Elrond froze and blinked, trying to take in what he was being told.  He had suspected shenanigans of some sort but even then the actual events surprised him.  He took a deep breath fighting off the nearly overwhelming desire to yell at his smallest son.  Having quelled his immediate emotions he turned to Estel, gathered up his crimson robes and sat down on the edge of the workbench of his herbal preparations table and held out his hands for Estel come the two or three steps that separated them. Estel stepped forward and clasped his father's hands looking sheepishly into his pale blue eyes.  Elrond stated in a calm, controlled voice that belied the fear and frustration trying to constrict his heart, "Estel, Why were you taking a shower in the small falls?”

“Well,” Estel started, biting his lip nervously, “I had gotten all sweaty and dirty cleaning out the stables and by the time I was finished midday meal was coming.  I knew you would not allow me to sit at table unwashed and right after we would be coming here.  I thought it would save time to shower in the falls…”  At this Elrond’s pale blue eyes took on an even more stern look and Estel sighed slightly, “I told myself it would save time…but I guess I thought it would be fun as well,” he finished with an air of confession.

Elrond sat on the bench with his eyes cast down and breathing deeply.  He still clasped his son’s hands as he was trying to quell the fear and anger in his heart.  Fear that he could have lost Estel, anger at himself and at Estel for doing such a foolhardy thing.  He sat there for many moments, trying to control his emotions.  A small, contrite “I’m sorry,” caused him to lift his head and look into earnest, grey eyes wide with contrition and a new emotion, fear that he had disappointed his father. 

“Oh, Ion nin!” He gave into the fear and hugged his small son, reassuring himself that the child was all right.  Pulling back, Elrond had recovered his composure, “Why do you apologise? And to whom?” he asked as he smoothed back one of the long dark plaits at his son’s temple, much in the way his brothers wore their plaits he mused as he placed it on Estel’s shoulder. 

Estel looked pensive, then said, “Because we talked about grown-up stuff the day after I broke my arm and, well I guess I didn’t listen very well.  I did think that maybe it wasn’t the best idea…” he offered more brightly.

“And yet you did it anyway.” Elrond finished his son’s sentence, a little sternly.

Estel snuffled a little and chastened, he nodded as he wiped his runny nose on his fresh, new tunic. “I’m sorry, Ada.” 

Elrond, whose anger dissipated at the evident contrition of his young son, clasped his hands in both of his and held them. “Thank you.  Thank you for recognizing your fault and for telling me what happened, even after your brothers had given you a way not to confess. I am proud of you for doing that.”  Estel just stared his thanks to his father and smiled a little.  Elrond returned the small smile.  He looked down at Estel’s hands clasped within his own; small hands that held such nascent hope of which Estel was far too young to understand, or even suspect.  Hands that would heal, a king’s hands.  But first they needed to learn; learn to heal, learn to fight, learn to comfort. There was so much to learn.  All that lay in the future, Elrond thought.  This day Estel was still his, his joyful, rambunctious, trouble-making son.  His to love; his to teach.  At that thought he squeezed Estel’s hands playfully and then stood up, reaching for Estel’s herb bag, “Right,” he said, opening the bag and emptying its contents onto the clean work board, “What have we here?  Estel, Can you get me my book of herbs and we shall set to work!”  Estel jumped up excitedly and ran to the near bookcase and brought the heavy tome of herbs and their uses.

Elrond smiled as small boy brought large tome full of both bound and unbound pages.  He took a few steps and helped place the book on the worktable.  He opened the tome to the front pages. Estel looked on and a thrill went through him as he read words written in Elrond’s fine, controlled script. “What have we here?” Elrond said spreading out Estel’s first couple of leaves. “I see Fennell. Look it up and tell me its uses,”

Estel paged through the tome quickly, loose pages shifting as he turned through the book, “Here it is!” he announced excitedly, “Fennel--used for Protection, Healing and Purification.  It can be used in a tea, tincture or syrup!”   

"Aye, all herbs and plants have their own essence, their own spirit.  A little bit of Arda exists within each living thing." Elrond instructed.  "This is very important.  We have to understand these properties and the energy that flows through each plant to understand how they can heal and what they can do."   Elrond looked at his young son to see if he was understanding this concept.  Wide, intelligent grey eyes met his. He continued, "They aid us in helping the energy within us, help us to restore our fëa."

"Is it like magic?" Estel asked wide-eyed.

Elrond looked at Estel, trying to determine the best way of describing Elven Healing without resorting to using the mortal shorthand term quite often used to describe Elven powers to heal and how not to explain why he as a mortal child could learn to delve into the spirit and power of the world.  Elrond could not yet reveal to his mortal son that he did indeed have Elven heritage within his blood.  He was not ready for that knowledge.  "In a way it may look like magic to those unfamiliar with our ways, but really it is tapping into the power that exists in all things and understanding how to channel that energy in ways that are beneficial.  Herbs help us to do that.  We may grind up the dried leaves and mix them into a poultice or brew it up into a tea for the injured to drink.  Or use words that are meant to channel energies in a certain way that will help the potency of the herbal elements used."

Estel looked enthralled at what Elrond was imparting to him.  He felt very grown up because his ada had never really discussed this sort of knowledge with him before.

Elrond searched through the small pile of leaves Estel had collected. And after locating the sought-after herb, he continued, "Some herbs have innate power over our spirits."  He held out small dark green leaves in his palm for Estel to see.  Estel leaned forward. "This is Athelas, also known in the Common Tongue as Kingsfoil, many now think it just a weed.  It has the power to cleanse the air and to bring to mind far happier times in our thoughts.  It does not grow abundantly."  He crushed and rolled the small leaves in his hand and immediately the air in the herbarium was charged with wholesomeness and in his mind’s eye he saw his beloved Celebrian sitting here in the herbarium where they had spent many a happy hour drying and preparing the various roots and plants of his art.  He looked down at his young son and smiled.  Estel looked up at his ada, wonder on his face.  Elrond continued, “Athelas is a powerful healing plant.  It can do much for healing both the body and the spiritin the right hands.” In the hands of the King, Elrond thought as he looked at Estel seeing in his mind’s eye the strong, honorable man that his ten-year old son would be become.  He blinked and it was gone and young, earnest, eager eyes looked back at him.  Elrond smiled wistfully and then said, “Do you understand me?”

Estel nodded enthusiastically and then asked, “Is the power of the Athelas the same for all who might use it or does it change with each one who uses it?”

“That is a very good question, Ion nin.” Estel beamed at his father’s praise, “For the most part it has much the same properties but there only a very few of us that can channel the herb’s essence not only to cleanse the body and refresh the soul, but to drive away shadows as well.”

Estel mouthed a silent “O” and gazed at the crushed leaves in middle of Elrond’s palm.  Their essence made him happy and then a thought struck him.  “Maybe we could give some this essence to Nana.  Then maybe she wouldn’t look so sad sometimes.” Hope in glowed in his eyes.

Elrond paused and considered how to answer the precocious child’s hopeful inquiry.  Gilraen like Estel came here to Imladris out of necessity but Estel remembered little, if any, of the reason why they had come to here to live among the Elves.  Gilraen remembered far too much.  Elrond thought upon the day they had ridden into Rivendell, heartsick and weary.  For a long time Estel, who had been three at the time, was shy and withdrawn; he frequently awoke from nightmares but Rivendell was a healing place and the very air, meadows, and waterfalls healed the boy’s soul.  He was thriving in Rivendell.  The same could not really be said of his mother.  She had left everything she knew and sacrificed it all for her son’s safety.  The wounds upon her own soul had never been allowed to fully heal. 

Estel was a perceptive and thoughtful child, he would require a truthful answer.  Elrond would try to give one as best he could.  He looked into the hopeful, earnest face.  He placed a hand on his charge’s near shoulder unsure of what he could say but he ventured forth.  “Athelas cannot help your naneth.  It is not a malady of the spirit that can be healed.  It is memory that troubles her.  And she must see her own way through.”  Though I wish in my own heart I could help her, such a valiant spirit to be banked for so long.”

“Oh,” once again, Estel’s eyes misted a little with disappointment.  Elrond put a protective arm around his son and gathered him to him just a little more, “But I will tell what you can do for your naneth, though.”

“What?” the small disappointed voice asked.

“You can love her.”

“Oh that.”

“Aye, THAT,” Elrond confirmed, “I have never seen your nana happier than when she has folded you into a big hug.  Her eyes shine and she is smiling.”

Estel remained unconvinced turning the pages of the tome idly.

“Estel, look at me…” The eyes of the boy turned towards his father, “There is nothing more important that we can do but to love.  It is the true component in all healing.  Everything else, our lore, our skill, our healing materials are there to provide a guide, a way, a channel but it is all done with love in our hearts. We as healers can do much with our lore, our learning and our skill and we hone these skills to be of service to others.  But without love in our hearts they are only words and plants, nothing more.” 

Elrond reflected that there were times when the spirit must be tended and other times when one could only wait until the spirit would allow healing, if at all.  But that was a lesson for another day.  He once again thought of Celebrian, the light of his life whom he could not heal even with all his consummate art and love. It was the way of life.  He broke away from his own musings when he realised that Estel was looking at him with concern on his face.  Elrond realised that he had let too much show on his face and quickly stated, “Lesson over! What say we go over and see your naneth and you can give her a big hug!”

They stood.  Estel smiled and quickly wrapped his small arms around his ada taking in the feel of crimson silk and scent of herbs that was his father, “I love you, Ada!”  Elrond’s heart was lit with love for his small son, He wrapped his arms around the boy and answered in a voice full of emotion, “I love you, too. Estel.”

“But you still have to go to the stables tomorrow to help muck out,” he said good naturedly.

A small groan was emitted, and then muffled laughter, “but afterwards can we come back here? Minus the small falls shower!”

Elrond laughed, and looked down at his small charge, “I suppose that can be arranged.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: My discussion of the elven healing arts is expounded and extrapolated upon after reading the wonderful online treatise “I Nestad in Edhil: The Healing of the Eldar”  I wanted to base my writing of Elven Healing as close to the Professor’s thoughts on the matter as I could and this treatise was excellent for that.