Houses of Healing II

[Ercassie]

Unalmis Raxëlilta
Arriving at Reception – Reporting for Rangers Healing Training

He could not have told you the path that he’d travelled, from the Military Barracks to the Houses of Healing. Still, the young man had managed to draw it out for far longer than it ought to have took him to travel. The day was fair, and his errand would rob him of admiring the warm sun, the bright sky. His errand was mandatory but lacked urgency.

The last time he had headed in this direction, it had been at a comparably greater speed; in fact wild horses couldn’t have delayed him. He did not recall now the path he had taken on that day either. Acting on the barest facts that his father had headed to find healers, and knowing there was no cause but the most desperate which would have compelled that, he had made his chase. Not courtesy, or protocol, or any manner of sense could have delayed him. And had not. He had only one father after all, and he had nothing else. Nobody else.


That was largely thanks to healer training, without which he might have had no family at all. It was healers who had saved his father’s life, and it was healers who had put Unalmis himself back to recovery, after his own ill-fated ‘adventure’ a few years prior. The significance of medical training was surely not lost on him, but it was that same significance that nurtured doubts now. He was grown familiar with lectures on how easily he broke things. He could make a mess, could do damage, to belongings, to an Enemy, either one without too much intent. But putting things right, mending things back together again .. that was a trick far harder to teach. As much as gluing all the smashed shards of a vase took far more difficulty than to throw it at the ground in the first place.

The grand entrance to the Houses of Healing reared up, like an all-knowing judge, and dared him to enter. They were going to be cross, he assumed, after his behaviour the last time he’d come this way. And when it came to facing wrath or lying in the soft grass just outside, and gazing at the clouds for comfort …. It was perilously tempting. There again, if he was practiced in anything in this whole world, it was facing people who were disappointed with him. There was only one way to reduce their number and, well, he couldn’t possibly make the healers’ collective expectations of him any worse than they probably were. Unless he did not even try. That would involve fleeing from the mere pile of stones that faced him. And Unalmis had never been called a coward, nor refused to accept a challenge. Even when he ought to have done.


So with a sigh and a deep breath, he straightened his uniform and ventured in. At least he would look the part, in fact, perhaps if he was extremely lucky, they would not even recognise him. Then he recalled the envelope he held in one hand, addressed to the Master Healer. Of course, Pele would know who he was, even without that. But hopefully the contents might distract her. And there was always the chance that his old trainer would be too busy to educate him herself.


Come to the Reception, the young Ranger glanced about him, as though expecting for some trap or some soul to leap out at him. Last time he had rushed right on through without ever stopping, but he’d learnt enough from the tutting and shaking heads on that occasion to not repeat it. Who knew what he might manage to learn this time .. Just enough, he decided, to manage what was needed. Whenever it may be needed.

The urge to shout out for attention was intolerable, but there might be patients sleeping. So he settled for scouting around the neat table and chairs, unsettled enough to simply sit. In his experience, the first one to see him would come rushing, for surely he was already doing something wrong. Reaching for a piece of the available parchment, he meant to practice maybe the art of folding the paper into a small figure of something .. Beren had tried teaching him this trick, but so far he was not all that talented at it at all. Of course his efforts collided with the vase of flowers which spilt water and once-arranged blooms, all across the polished table .. managing to hasten the first person who had noticed, to come a running, panicked. Well, there were always ways to getting things done, and apparently this was a success. Of a sort. At least the waiting part was over ..

[Nessa Saelind]

Matilda Hawthorn at the reception, rescuing a vase with jonquils from a young Ranger @Ercassie

It was too fine of a day to spend indoors. That much was obvious to Matilda who sat alone at the large round table that stood at the centre of the study of the Houses of Healing. More than once the nurse looked up from the books and scrolls neatly lined in front of her and gazed at the window toward the serene gardens. She firmly believed that De Materia Medica should be read in the gardens, or at least in the apothecary. After all, the pharmakopoiia was about medicinal plants and the medicines that could be obtained from them. However, the librarian of the Houses of Healing did not share the golden-haired nurse’s opinion regarding the preferred reading spot for natural history and medical books.

Thus she was stuck in the study, reading medical text, on a too fine of a day to spend indoors. Nonetheless, she persevered. One did not easily come by the perfect combination of having the study to herself, access to various medical texts and enough time to read and study. She was not going to squander this opportunity just because it was warm outside, the sun was shining and it was such a pleasant day… Matilda sighed and continued to read.

It has green leaves similar to the plane tree, but smaller, closer to those of spondylium, more jagged, darker and somewhat rough. The stalk is rough, and the flowers white, inclining to purple, and in clusters. The roots underneath are thin and black, hanging (as it were) on an onion-like little head, which also has use. It grows in rough high dry places. (…) It purges the intestines from above, driving out phlegm and bile, given alone (or with scammony and teasponful or 30 grains of salt). It is also boiled with lens and broths that are taken for purging. It is good for epilepsy, depression, delirium, arthritis and paralysis. Given in a pessary...*

A loud noise from the direction of the reception, like something crashed from a height, jolted her and had her on her feet. Matilda rushed out of the study, her dim-grey nurse’s uniform swishing about her. At no point did it occur to her that the loud noise coming from the reception was something benign, for example, Ralph or Miriel dropping a reference book by accident, or someone knocking the vase with flowers from the counter in their haste… As she rounded the corner to reach the reception an incident involving an injured elven grandmother, who was not anyone’s grandmother, and a broken vase did come to mind. She quickened her steps hoping that she would not find another injured person and a shattered vase with flowers and water mixing with the blood of the injured…

As she reached the reception the loose bun her hair was in unravelled, the golden locks falling down her shoulders. She had no time to think about her hair as she stood frozen to the spot for several heartbeats, her cornflower blue eyes taking in the sight before her. A young man in a ranger’s uniform, her age or thereabouts, with shoulder-length dark hair almost frozen in the act of reaching a parchment managed to knock down the vase with jonquils. The polished surface was now covered with water that spilt from the knocked vase, while the jonquils laid messily on the table, their petals drenched. The table looked like a messy crime scene and Matilda bit her lip to prevent a laugh that threatened to bubble to the surface.

Moving forward with some urgency, for the sight of the drowning flowers moved her, she reached the table and scooped up the flowers before lifting the vase and returning the jonquils in it. The dark-haired young ranger stood where he was, looking sheepishly at the flowers and then at the nurse, as she walked over to the reception in search of a dry cloth. As she looked around she tried to remember where had she seen the clumsy lad before. His features look familiar, and he could have been a patient at one point or another. Or he could have accompanied a patient to the Houses. She paused for a moment, her hand grasping the cloth, the thought about accompanying someone jogged her memory.

“Unalmis,” she said out loud as she stood up clutching the cloth in her hand. The young ranger turned to her, surprised that she called his name. “Addhor’s son,” she continued speaking as she smiled with delight. She walked over to the table remembering Ian telling her how the carpenter’s son burst into the Houses of Healing like a wildling in search of his father. As she used the cloth to soak up the spilt water she took an opportunity to properly look at Unalmis. The young ranger looked more uncomfortable than injured and he was certainly not accompanied by his father. Her gaze went to the drenched jonquils and her smile widened remembering another amusing detail. “Return my affection,” she said gesturing at the flowers. “That’s the meaning behind the jonquil flower,” she explained for Nal’s benefit as he still looked confused. “Are these for Naela?” she asked feigning surprise, for she knew that the vase with jonquils stood at the reception this morning when she came in. The bright yellow flowers made her wonder if they were sent to Miriel, or did she chose them herself, simply because they looked beautiful. “Should I go fetch her? The flowers are a bit drenched, but I’m sure she’ll appreciate the gesture and return your affection just as you intended…” she said with a mischievous smile, her eyes sparkling with humour.

*The following quote is from Dioscorides De Materia Medica

~*~

Treatment room Nessa, Matilda and Ian with @Fuin Elda

As Matilda opened the door to let Ian and the wheelchair enter, Nessa noted the spark of interest and the look of utter fascination on Fuin’s face with the mechanics of the moving chair. However, the mechanics of the wheelchair were not the only thing that fascinated her patient. Without missing a beat, the elleth joined in the jocular atmosphere that the nurse and her tall assistant created with humorous comments of her own. The fact that her patient was awake and sitting up, showing interest in the things that surrounded her and joking with the people around her boded well for her recovery.

The young healer relaxed, feeling the tension she wasn’t aware of leaving her shoulders. She and Matilda observed Fuin with interest as she motioned to Ian to bring her weapons. The tall man obliged the elf-maid, curiosity evident in his golden-brown eyes. In truth, all three members of the Houses of Healing were curious to see how Fuin would bundle up her weapons. The process proved to be simple, or at least the elven warrior made it look simple. As she watched Ian help her patient unstring the bow, she wondered how much of that was sheer simplicity and how much of was years of wielding and caring for the weapon, knowing it like the back of your hands. Regardless, the unstrung bow was placed in the quiver with the daggers, the elleth’s sword lashed to it using a belt. A proud smile lit up Fuin’s face as she inspected her work. She created an extremely lovely, but very deadly bouquet of weapons.

The question before them now was who was going to carry the bundled bouquet of weapons. Fortune or more precisely a very tall man with a distinct sense of humour provided a rather distinctive solution. Ian picked up the quiver with the bundled weapons and walked over to Matilda and Nessa who watched him with unhidden curiosity. He stopped a pace before the nurse and sketched a bow.

“Unbraid your golden tresses, fair maiden,” he spoke to the nurse in amused verses. “And hold in your arms these weapons of war, my humble offer to the altar of your wit,” Ian continued his teasing praise and Nessa lifted her hand to hide a blooming smile, biting her lip in the process to stop herself from laughing. “Truly you will become one of the shieldmaidens of Rohan, for indeed half of the Houses already think you are one.”

A tinge of comely rosy flush blossomed on Matilda’s cheeks as she stood silently watching the tall man in front of her. Nessa’s eyes darted from one to the other and then to her patient, noting that Fuin was observing the scene before her with delight. It would appear that the Houses of Healing were determined to provide endless entertainment to the injured elleth; perhaps as a very unusual and unorthodox way to test her ability to recover.

“Too much time spent with Fred affected your wits,” Matilda finally spoke shaking her head as she reached out to take the quiver from Ian’s hands. The bundle wasn’t as cumbersome or as heavy as she thought. For now, at least. “With the Revered Grandmother’s permission,” the nurse said inclining her head in the elleth’s direction. “I will carry her weapons. As you are quite determined to horse around you might as well help Lady Fuin.”

Ian’s acknowledgement came in the form of a playful smile and a quiet “Aye,” as he turned and walked over to the cot where Fuin sat. The tall man looked at the patient without speaking for a few heartbeats. A moment later he knelt in front of her and with a quiet “With your permission, my Lady,” he carefully lifted Fuin from the cot and gently set her into the wheelchair. After he made sure the elleth was sitting comfortably in the chair, he took a throw from the cot and folded it up before covering the elleth's legs with it.

“He’s very handy to have around is he not?” Nessa murmured softly to the other woman. “You should keep him.”
“Hmmm… You really should return that book to the study before someone throws a fit,” was Matilda’s response that elicited a gleeful laugh from the young healer.
“Since our patient is feeling better and looks to be in good hands,” the young healer said, echoes of laughter and lightness still in her voice. “I shall leave Lady Fuin in your most capable hands Ian, Matilda,” Nessa inclined her head towards the pair. “And as per instructions, I shall return De Materia Medica to the study. On the way I’ll make sure that the recovery room is ready,” the healer finished with a smile. As swiftly as she could, without appearing rude, she picked up the aforementioned book and walked out of the treatment room leaving behind an amused patient and her stead and a nurse who shook her head at her friend.

From the treatment room to the garden, finally. Matilda and Ian with Fuin

That the treatment room where Fuin was first brought in so her injuries could be tended to was nearest to the reception turned out to be a stroke of good luck. Convenient too, since Ian and Matilda could take the elleth, who looked content and comfortable in the wooden wheelchair, to the gardens via the shortest possible route, via the reception. Holding the weapons bundle securely in one hand Matilda opened the door to the treatment room, so Ian could gallantly push the wheelchair with the patient in it out of the room, she hoped they would be very lucky and not encounter Ralph or Miriel on the way. Questions and amused looks could be avoided and Ian would not end up as another body for Nessa to practice her surgical skills on. Although Matilda had the feeling her extremely tall and dashing friend wouldn’t mind much. Exiting the room and closing the door behind her she adjusted the weapon’s bouquet, as she affectionately referred to the bundle of elvish weapons in the quiver, and followed Ian and Fuin. Thankfully for everyone involved, Ian’s health especially, the reception was empty and they passed through it to the gardens without so much as a funny look.

The garden that encircled the Houses of Healing faced the southward wall, providing a magnificent view on the White City and everything below: the Pelennor Fields, the great Anduin flowing and in the distance the green woods of Southern Ithilien. Along with the impressive scenery outside the Houses of Healing, for the most part, the serene garden emulated the natural environment of the wilder areas that surrounded Minas Tirith. Glasshouses for the rare and exotic plants and herbs were built closer to the apothecary building and healers’ quarters for easy access.

They moved a relaxed pace along one of the many paths in the garden, enjoying the companionable silence. They allowed the scents and sights of rosemary, lavender, rushes, sedges, helichrysum flowers and many other plants to calm their senses. A few times along the way Ian glanced at Matilda to see if the quiver with weapons was too heavy for her, but the look the nurse gave him in response to his unasked question was answer enough that made him shake his head in silent amusement. Tilda could be stubborner than a mule at times.

“How are you feeling, grandmother?” Matilda asked, checking on the elleth. The stroll through the garden seemed to invigorate Fuin, but the nurse wanted to be sure. “The gardens are lovely and relaxing, but do let us know if you’re feeling tired… I wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself. Undo all our hard work.”

~*~

Study, Quintus de Scardena with @Pele Alarion

Quintus chuckled at Pele’s remark that his wife, Valeria, was correct in her assessment regarding his tendency for philosophical musings. It did not come as a surprise to him to hear that the Master Healer was a most practical woman, not prone to deep diving into philosophical musings. Perhaps it was an age thing or a quirk of his… Mayhap, even a product of too much time spent on administrative matters. Sometimes he wondered if he should resume his practice, seeing and treating the patients that came to the Houses of Healing. The thought was alluring, especially when he looked at the list of active healers. In his opinion, there were always too few healers considering the size of the White City.

Quintus sighed quietly as Pele thought about his question. There was a reason he was promoted to the administrative ranks. He might not always enjoy the work that came with his position, and administration was not meant to be enjoyable, but it was necessary work. There were challenges here too, different than those a healer encountered when seeing a patient, often demanding and difficult to navigate, requiring a specific skill set. His recent proposal to the King and Queen was a testament to that…

“Yes, she is Shaela’s granddaughter, Naela,” Pele’s words interrupted his meandering thoughts and he took a sip of his tea and focused his attention on the Master Healer. “I think of her as of a very prospective healer; she is very inquisitive, not afraid to ask questions, eager to look into books. And then there are basics her grandmother has already taught her. I think we will not be left without wanting for new healers.”

For a while, the senior administrator was quiet, thinking about what Pele said of her new apprentice. Deep in thought, he absentmindedly reached out to the plate and took a pepper-honey biscuit in the shape of a tree and took a bite. A few crumbs fell on his blue-grey tunic, but he took no notice of that for the moment, enwrapped in the delicious taste of the biscuit.

“This is good to hear,” he spoke after a while and then noticed the crumbs on his tunic. He dusted them off quite unconcerned by his looks. “I am glad that the Houses, and you especially, got an astute, hard-working and quick-witted apprentice. I can only hope more like Naela will join our ranks…” he said and took a sip of his tea. He reached out and took another pepper-honey biscuit from the plate and ate it. “And how are you, Pele?” he asked her after a while. “How is your shoulder? Oh, don’t look so alarmed, my dear,” he said calmly with a wave of his hand. “I am not planning to place you on medical leave. It would be pointless and counterproductive. I simply wish to know how are you feeling; and should the order from the top come regarding your medical condition I would like us to work together to find an optimal solution for everyone involved."

Nessa edit: This idiot accidentally deleted the entire album with icons so yeah... The moral of the story kids: think before you hit delete!

[Pele Alarion]

Pele
In the study with Quintus de Scardena @Nessa Saelind

She was definitely not opposed to having more healers join their ranks, also for somewhat selfish reasons as it would make it a bit easier to combine her healer and Ranger duties, and perhaps even free up a bit more time to recuperate. "It is definitely very good, and it would be nice to have a few more people like Naela around here," Pele agreed, as she paid attention to not snatching up too many biscuits at once.

"Ohhhh," the healer exclaimed unwittingly, when Quintus asked about her shoulder and she realised what was the reason he had come with delicious things. She couldn't help but chuckle softly at the man's subtle approach to sensitive matters.

"You would definitely have to lock me up and tie me to a bed for good measure if there was a need for complete 'not allowed to do anything' type of treatment," she said, and took a sip of tea while her blue eyes danced with merriment regardless of the seriousness of the topic. "The shoulder has mostly healed, though I'm still working on regaining full movement and strength in it; the last campaign threw the plans a bit off and I had to rest the shoulder for a bit after the strenuous use."

Pele took another biscuit and began to nibble on it, giving herself a few moments to think. She was not completely sure how many details Quintus was aware of in terms of her health, and she wondered how much she should reveal. Eventually she settled for something of a round-about approach: "I've been taking it as easy as possible lately, eating a plenty of nutritious food and doing my best to sleep properly. Though, if you would rather see for yourself, you can examine my shoulder and such."

[Ankala Teaweed]

Ann Kalagon with Pele Alarion
Healer quarters: storage

Pele most agreeably took the teapot and steeped a fresh pot. As she refreshed their mugs, Pele guessed the next treasure to be revealed was a special honey. Ann laughed, “good guess! They are known for their great bees! They really are big!”

She pulled a wide green glass jar from the bottom of the saddle bag and handed it to Pele. It was capped with a bark plug and wax, and there was a string end to pull the cap out.

“Yes. Beorning honey! And this one truly is a special blend, on account of those great bees. This honey is a mix of honeycomb, pollen, a special bees-wax that has medicinal properties, and queen jelly too—from one of the magnificent beehives they shepherd near their hold. It is a most medicinal tonic! And this jar is for you; it is really meant for one person to use. Use it when you feel maybe run-down? Take a spoon every morning for 10 days.”

Ann reached into the saddle bag and pulled out one more bundle of herbs. “This bag is empty, other than this batch of lavender I gathered in the Beorning gardens.” She laid the lavender on the table near Pele, set the empty saddlebag by the wall, reached over and pulled the other bag next to her.

“So, to go on it was a long crossing of the woods back from Dale, but no more spiders. The Elves path is tended and open. And my cousins and I were traveling with a party of dwarves through the forest. We stayed with my mother for a few weeks, then we continued on to the Beornings’ holdings. Pele, it was a rare treat for me to stay with my cousins on my mother’s side! I celebrated the solstice with them and then stayed on through the winter.

“Then when I prepared to go on and journey west over the mountains toward Arnor, my cousins announced they were accompanying me over the mountains! They are rather formidable, these cousins. Well, they figured once across the Misty Mountains, from the Road near to Rivendell I should find other travelers who might welcome an extra pair of eyes and arms.

“And they were right!” Ann snagged a piece of yellow cheese and took a bite, then opened the other saddle bag. “This batch,” and she paused to pull out a bundle of herbs wrapped in a red cloth and tied. “This is Misty Mountains athelas. I found it in a mountain valley, near a small stream.”

Next came a similar-sized bundle of a mint tied in bluish cloth, laid on the table by the red.

“Mint for tea, from the Misty Mountains as well.” Being reminded of the fresh hot tea, Ann topped off her mug and added more honey. The other bag now by her knees looked to have more jars inside and other bundles.

“By the way, Pele, I am in need of lodgings. What is it like here, in the Houses? I like the idea of living near such gardens.”

[Winddancer]

The Gardens
Maegon and Tarawen

Not for a second had it occured to him that his step-aunt hadn't known how to use the sword, the surprise of learning that was the case written all over his young face. Of course it made sense there would have been a time where she wouldn't have known, but for some reason he had always believed that she had been proficient with it, never really giving thought to how that then transpired. Still, burning a wolf to run it off was not bad either!

He nodded seriously at her words, acknowledging the advice for what it was. Growing more sombre as his thoughts went to how his mother would adamantly tell him that under no circumstances would he ever be joining the Rangers, despite his youthful enthusiasm for everything adventurous. A ton of questions burned to be asked, however he only got a few words out before he heard his mother's voice and visibly cringed.

"Maegon! Time to go. Now."

Curt and impatient, Inara stood by the door to the garden, never taking a moment to appreciate the quiet beauty of the place that her husband and son adored so much. Eyes flicking nervously to his mother, Meagon reluctantly stood, desperate to hear more of Tarawen's stories.

"Thank you for the story.." he mumbled disappointedly, though suddenly his face lit up and he braved his mother's ire and stepped in and gave his step-aunt a huge hug before quickly darting off in the direction of his mother who was now sporting an annoyed look and Findis who was already heading out of the garden without bothering to say goodbye.

[Winddancer]

Liriel and her babes

The knock was so soft that the couple barely heard it over Eradan's soft singing. As if wary to, the sound slowly became a little louder and finally caught the father's attention. With both of his sons in his arms, he walked over to the door and softly called out "come in", still not wanting to wake his wife, unaware that she was already awake and shifting into a more comfortable position behind him in the bed.

The door slowly squeaked open, a pair of worried eyes peaking through the small crack in the door. "I am so sorry to disturb" Naela said as softly as she could, though Eradan had to lean in closer to be able to even hear the young woman.

"No need to whisper my dear, come on in." Liriel said as she leaned back against the huge pillows supporting her back. At the sound of one of the babes starting to fuss she added "And better hand me those boys back before they start wailing and my chest bursts with all this milk.." Chuckling softly she gave her husband an adoring look as he immediately brought them over, followed by a young woman that she vaguely recalled from earlier.

"Sorry my dear, I forgot your name.." Liriel said as she placed the babes at her chest with the help of her husband.

"Naela, M'am. Mistress Nessa asked me to come and check of you and see if you are wanting anything. And she said to say there is a wonderful stew heating up and that there is enough for you both." Wringing her hands Naela looked at how the husband so lovingly helped his wife get situated and felt a stab of envy, at that moment wishing that she could find someone that would treat her as this man was treating his wife.

Eradan took a long moment, soaking in the view of both of his sons settling to the breasts as naturals, both of them latching on without any problems. Finally he tore his eyes away from them and gave his wife a loving kiss, his hand moving to touch each of the boys.

"None for me thank you," he said softly as he moved from the bed and headed towards the door. "I need to head back to my other boys." Giving his wife a loving look, he headed out of the door with a small polite nod to the young healers apprentice.

"I would love some.. and something to drink if you don't mind" Liriel said as she watched her husband leave. "And then you can let Nessa know that I will be leaving first thing tomorrow morning, so if she want's to check up on me she better do it before then!" Liriel's eyes sparkled with mirth which lightened her tone, but she was dead serious. No one would be keeping her from going home come the morning. Not even Nessa.

[Raisins]

The Gardens. Fuin with Matilda and Ian @Nessa Saelind


Fuin was a bit shocked at being lifted like a small kitten and set into the wheelchair, and cover her lap with a blanket while Matilda held on to her weapons tightly, perhaps afraid of damaging them though they were tough things one of which was from the the first age itself and it had survived many many wars and battles. When even it's previous owner did not. For an instant she wanted to demand that it stayed with her but thought better of it and let Ian push her through the reception which was fantastically empty for the time being as they strolled through it quietly until they made it to the gardens themselves.

Once there Fuin was as it were in her utter glory, partially because she quite was adoring the gardens of the House of Healing and partially because Ian and Matilda were utterly cute together with Ian worrying about how heave the bouquet was. Granted it did not likely hurt that her weapons were light, being elfin in make rather than those of Gondor that she found heavier especially when one considered the daggers and the sword. Which would be heavy if they were made by men comparatively. Fuin of course mostly caught these silent interactions while she was reaching out to brush her long fingers against some of the more fragrant and plentiful herbs that she knew would not be bothered if she pinched off a leaf here and there to enjoy their fragrance like rosemary which would simply come in bushier for the pinching. Ian for his part utterly indulged her pushing her towards flowerbeds as she spotted flowers and pointed at them that she liked or knew were fragrant and plentiful in season. She knew which ones to avoid actually were likely in limited supply almost instinctively She held a sprig under her nose enjoying the scent entirely. She looked at Matilda when she asked if she was getting tired.

"I'm just sitting here smelling flowers while my work horse does all the heavy work." She said with a giggle "I am feeling fine as one can be considering how I came into this house I think." She honestly couldn't even really remember how she had come into the House of Healing though it had to have been horrible that they were still worried about her even now. "I promise I will let you know when I get tired, but if you want we can make sure we get me to the Recovery room make sure my weapons bouquet is settled in so that Ian can bring me back to the gardens?" She said with a smile as she sniffed the fragrant rosemary that she spun beneath her nose as she looked up at Matilda and then back at Ian.

"Actually that might be the best idea, I'm sure there are other patients that need care more than a silly old elf that just wants to smell the flowers before having a good nights sleep to do it all over again tomorrow."

[Nessa Saelind]

TR ANNOUNCEMENT

An RP thread is a living organism; it lives and breaths, grows and evolves and adapts to suit the needs of the people who create stories and post them. Sometimes it’s hard to predict in which direction a thread will go because an influx of (new) ideas is unpredictable, so a thread runner might at times discover they need to make amendments and additions to the guidelines they posted in the OP.

This is one such case. A new RP idea for the Houses of Healing prompted me to think about the guidelines of the thread and made me realise some amendments and additions to the guidelines were needed. I’ve presented my suggestions for amendments and additions in the Houses of Healing OOC thread and the comments were positive.

From today, 13.06.2021. (June 13th 2021) the thread guidelines will be changed as follows

Old thread guidelines:

• All general RPG rules apply.

• Post your location on the top of your post.

• Whiteout your out of character comments.

• Posts over 300 characters preferred.

New thread guidelines

• All Plaza RP Rules apply, please refer to the RP Code of Conduct if unsure.

• Post your location at the top of your post

• If your post deals with any sensitive subjects/topic such as mental health issues (e.g. PTSD), abuse (sexual, verbal, emotional), violence (domestic, assault, etc.) or contains a more vivid description of injuries/medical procedures (e.g. limb amputation, autopsies etc.) please include a Content/Trigger Warning at the top of your post in bold red (#FF0000). If you are unsure feel free to ask for advice/guidance in the Houses of Healing OOC thread.

• If you need to make an OOC comment please write it at the bottom of your post and mark it clearly. You don’t need to white it out.

• Posts over 300 characters preferred.

• Disclaimer: All information provided in this thread is strictly for RP purposes. The authors of the posts in this thread are not medical professionals, nor are they claiming to be.

These changes (amendments and additions) come into effect from 14.06.2021. (June 14th 2021). Everything posted before this announcement is not considered (nor will it ever be considered) a breach of thread guidelines.

[Pele Alarion]

Pele with Ann @Ankala Teaweed
Storage

"This... for me?" Pele's blue eyes glinted with joy, as she examined the jar of Beorning honey. "I am sorely tempted to devour it all this very moment!" And so she would if eating a great quantity at once would help with the constant weariness she still felt, but she knew well that all it would do would possibly make her sick, and it would be a waste of a precious item. Setting the jar aside carefully, she focused on anything else Ann would bring out of her bags.

"Lavender, athelas, and mint," she mumbled, jotting down the herbs in the list that was already quite lengthy. "Your bags definitely seem to be near measureless!"

As she listened to further account of travels that Ann had been on, Pele could not help but feel a slight tinge of envy; not that she had not had her own travels, but she would have given much to have that replaced by something more enjoyable.

Almost automatically she reached for another half of a bun, topped it with a fair amount of butter and honey, and munched on a delicious morsel, as she considered Ann's question about lodgings.

"Hmm. The Houses are not exactly an inn," she said thoughtfully, "but we do have a bit of space for healers to stay in, and I figure you could gain access to a room if you aimed to convince the folk in charge of the premises and presented a strong proof that you want to work here and for that purpose need a view of the gardens all day long." Pele chuckled softly, as she popped another bit of food in her mouth. "Perhaps you could use my room, if not, as I mostly use the barracks either way."

[Ercassie]

Unalmis Raxëlilta – Reporting for Rangers Healing Training
At Reception, with Matilda Hawthorn @Nessa Saelind

The drowning of the table was not on equal measure with the drowning of Numenor, yet it incited an urgent response all the same. The young woman (Matilda) who all but flew out of some unseen haunt went straight about her business of tending to the fallen flowers. It occurred to Unalmis that she must be a healer, to showcase such an efficiency and speed in hopes of recovery. Her ‘patient’ restored from all immediate threats, this heroine then set about cleaning up the crime scene and setting it back toward a perfect order. All the while that it took the Ranger enough thought to stow his precious envelope into his pocket. That it might be safe there from a soaking, for it was ‘so important’ he had been told. And there it likely would remain, forgotten in it’s safe place for the remainder of his entire visit.

He had expected a tirade or at least a telling off, but he had not expected for his own name to fall from the woman’s lips, before he ever offered it. Maybe she had known he was expected. He had been informed, in fact, they were expecting him, but that could well have been but a safeguard to make sure he did in fact attend. The young soldier had not bothered to check in for a check up after the most recent mission, after all. Even though all had been directed to do so. It had felt rather redundant. For he had managed to only shin his palms on that excursion, and , yes, get smacked in the face, by a door he had kicked open, a door which had generously rebounded. All the times he had seen the likes of Beren Camlost valiantly kick in doors, that sort of thing never seemed to happen to them ! Regardless, he had not felt sufficiently hurt enough to be fussed over.

The attendant progressed in her greeting though, demonstrating that she knew his lineage as well as his first name, and by now he was rather confused. He had certainly never met her before, that he could recall. Perhaps she had been witness to his last, rather wild, visit to the healing houses. But she was saying about affections, and smiling .. in that way that girls do when they embark on their secret language which no one with an ounce of sense can understand. Surely they must take girls quietly aside at school to teach such things, else he’d certainly been absent that day. Or truanting. Admittedly, he had probably been truanting.

Finally, the young woman must have sensed his stupidity, and kindly saw fit to translate. So it was that Unalmis came close to some relief as she explained about the jonquils, before he was thrown again when she resumed, now speaking about ‘Naela’. Whoever that was. This was beginning to feel as though he was in the training grounds, getting swatted by unseen assaults from unexpected directions. A little derailed, the Ranger hoped he did not look as dazed and confused as he felt, or he’d be admitted for a head injury !

“You’re Naela ?” he braved a guess, already doubting as he observed the amusement that still lit her face. “No … I mean, can you tell me your name ?” he scratched the head he tilted slightly, “or is this a test ? For the training ?” Honestly, of all the things he had not expected to know, to be prepared for, this scenario had not even occurred to him.

At some point he would realise that he ought to apologise for the mess he had caused, but then, there was a lot already taking up space in his head and it would need some time to work it’s way to the forefront. For now there was naught to be done, but hope this mysterious hostess could help him. And then hope he would be courteous enough to recall that he should thank her. Already there was so much to remember !

[Marceline]

Tarawen
Gardens with Maegon

Seeing Maegon ruminating on her hard-won advice made Tarawen smile. The lad certainly was eager for stories of the wild north - a child after her own heart. Even better, he seemed to take what she said about learning to wield one’s sword properly to heart. With the way his eyes had lit up with passionate interest in her tale, she began to imagine and hope that he would be the next person to inherit her father’s sword. That would be a neat way to tie up the fight she and Maenion had had so long ago. And the way things were going lately, she realized, maybe the day for Maegon to take it up would come sooner than later. She had come back here, after all. What use would the sword be to her now that she was facing down life in the city once more? For him, all sorts of possibilities lay in store.

She observed his face darkening all of a sudden and wondered what could bring such a troubled expression to the face of a boy so young. It’s probably not a good sign that my first thought ran to his mother, she thought. But it was true. Inara had done little to ingratiate herself with Tarawen - in fact, she had gone to great lengths to do just the opposite. It would not be a stretch of the imagination to think that she was a severe and strict mother, too. Tarawen resolved in that moment to help the boy pursue his dreams, whatever they might be, however she could - even if that meant a battle of wills with his mother.

Maegon had just begun to ask her a question when Inara’s voice cracked like a whip through the stillness of the gardens. Her son jumped, then prepared to go.

“You’re welcome,” Tarawen said to him with a smile. “Let’s chat some more sometime soon, okay? I’ll find a way to come visit once your father goes home from the Houses of Healing. I hope that will be very soon.” She returned his embrace and watched the three figures exit the bright garden. With a sigh, she retraced her steps to her room, thinking vaguely that it was time to find herself some proper lodging in the city.

[Pele Alarion]

Pele, coming upon Unalmis @Ercassie and Matilda @Nessa Saelind
Reception

The work definitely seemed to pile up, what with all the various things that had to be accomplished, all in one day. Currently Pele did not even have the time to sit down and eat properly, so after spending the early hours to deal with administrative stuff at the Headquarters, she had dropped by the mess hall to grab a sandwich, which she was currently munching on as she made the way to the Houses of Healing to attend to other duties. Thoughts already busy with how she'd have to exchange the Ranger uniform for a healer's outfit and what patients she might have to check on and such, she hurried into the reception, stuffing the remaining part of the sandwich into her mouth as she pushed open the door with her shoulder.

Pele did not quite expect to see the reception inhabited, apart from a receptionist, so she paused as soon as she stepped inside and for a while observed Unalmis and Matilda curiously trying to guess what the conversation was about. The few steps that took her alongside the two young people allowed her enough time to finish the food, before she spoke.

"So, what's going on here?" she eventually asked. "Any of you requiring a healing touch?" Laughter danced in her blue eyes, as she looked from one inhabitant of reception to the other and awaited a sort of report on whether she was needed here, or perhaps elsewhere.

[Ercassie]

Unalmis Raxëlilta – reporting for Ranger/Healer training
At Reception with Matilda and Pele
@Nessa Saelind @Pele Alarion

Pele was not the only one trying to guess what Unalmis and Matilda were talking about, as the young Ranger was still not quite sure himself.

“I think I’m getting a headache,” Nal mumbled, confused, as the Master Healer asked whether any one of them was hurt. “Or causing one ? I don’t even … I’m supposed to seek some training in case of accidents or injury on duty. I think ?” It had reached the point where he was no longer sure of that either, or if in fact he had simply chanced to close his eyes too long out on the grass outside, and fallen asleep there out in the open. It would not be the first time.

“Oh ! Naela ! Of course !” he was stung by the sudden prompt of seeing Pele again. The last time, here, he had met the Officer's young assistant, and then his father had said “Good luck Naela” as they’d left. “This isn’t Naela” he informed Pele, now both assuredly and rather randomly. “And you’re not.” But since he was already recounting the last time he was here, Nal dropped a hand to his pocket, before he forgot, and retrieved a slightly damp but not too damaged envelope, which he extended in offer towards Pele.


“This is for you, Pele sir, ma'am,” he explained. “From my .. from last time.” The contents she should find within were both a solid payment for the recent check-up and also a small paper pamphlet of certain illustrated works the carpenter had been exploring, on the Master Healer’s own advice. A small string left like a bookmark within the tiny catalogue made it easily fall open to a page which detailed the specifics of some handcarven hands and fingers. There was no explanation further than a small handwritten note. It read ‘if I can ever be of any assistance along these lines, please let me know. Utter discretion for any patient consulted with, guaranteed. Addhor’.

“I am supposed to tell you that he’s doing much better now,” Unalmis ambled, counting out on his fingers what he ought to conjure back to mind. “So much that he and an old Ranger buddy are riding out to Rohan at the end of the month. Wait, maybe that was the part he said I ought not to tell you ..”

A genuine confusion conquered the young man’s face. “Sorry,” he shrugged. For possibly getting the message wrong, for the incident of running through rooms the last time looking for his father, for .. well, best be safe and put it out there now. Chances were he would manage to do something else that would require apologies this visit also. Oh, and of course the vase. “Sorry about the flowers” he gave up to Matilda. Though maybe she was implying the flowers were Naela's ? He didn't see the other girl around. The Ranger yawned behind a belatedly raised hand. “Can we please start again ?”

[Winddancer]

Reception

"PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOOW!!"

The shriek was loud enough to wake the dead and completely inappropriate for a place such as the Houses of Healing. Not that that seemed to stop Ms. Irma from repeating the same order again, just as loudly as before. Both the baker and his assistant were swearing under their breaths, their faces bright red with the exersion as well as embarrassment of carrying the large woman all the way up here, especially seeing as she had not let them carry her willingly, accusing them of all kinds of offences during the trip.

It was with relief when the two burly men could finally dump the shrieking woman into a chair, both ducking and fleeing the scene as quickly as they could to avoid getting swatted by her as they stepped away.

"I WILL HAVE YOU ARRESTED FOR TOUCHING ME LIKE THAT!!" She shrieked after the men, both of them cursing under their breaths as they hastily made their way back out, the baker managing to give those in the room an apologetic look before quickly ducking out the door clearly afraid the woman was going to throw something at him.

"She is flipping crazy she is.." the baker commented as he wiped his forehead, shaking his head at Malanor as he and the young woman approached. "I feel sorry for the healers.." he mumbled as he quickly made his way back home, the assistant right on his heels.

"My ankle! Somebody help me!" Malanor sighed as he heard Ms. Irma's shrieks all the way outside, giving Falaneth a reassuring look as he held the door open for her. "Hey, it will be ok, don't you worry now, alright?" He tried giving her a small smile to make sure the young woman wouldn't worry, though it quickly faded as he heard Ms. Irma shriek again. "At least she won't be able to chase you.." Malanor let out a nervous chuckle, waiting for her to step inside.

[Rillewen]

Amethyst "Amy" Nerennia
A few years before the War of the Ring
In a quiet corner of the Study, HOH

The day couldn't be more perfect. The sun shined brightly down on the young couple as they sat comfortably in the garden, enjoying a warm summer afternoon. Reilly had the day off from his duty, and Amy had finished with her duties in the houses of healing, and now, as they often did, they were spending every moment together that they could spare. Reilly caressed her face softly, smiling as he brushed back a lock of her dark hair. "I love you, Amy." He said softly, then kissed her. When he pulled away, he was holding up something in his hand. A ring, which he held out to her. "I've been wanting to ask you for a while now... Will you marry me?" He grinned, enjoying her surprised reaction.

Amy's eyes grew round as she gasped. "Oh! Yes! Of course I will!" She threw her arms around him, happily hugging him as joyful tears flooded her eyes.

And then suddenly Reilly wasn't there, snatched away from her, caught up by some dark, indistinguishable shadow. He reached for her, a look of fear, confusion, and despair crossing his face as he was taken away from her, caught helplessly by the darkness.

"Reilly!" Amy cried, desperately trying to run after him, but she felt as if her feet were sinking into thick mud, and she lost sight of him as darkness swirled around her, cutting her off from her beloved fiance...

And then she woke up with a horrified gasp, a cold sweat covering her skin, real tears filling her eyes. Breathing hard, the young woman looked frantically around her, with wide, fear-filled eyes before beginning to place where she was. Her heart still hammered in her chest as she looked down at the papers and things she'd been reading. She was supposed to be reading, and copying and she forgot what else... but she hadn't slept very much in the past two weeks. Ever since she recieved word from her sister that their mother had died, at least. She hadn't slept very well for months before that. Amy was glad she was alone at the moment, putting her head down in her hands to try and hide her tears. What happened to the happy life she was supposed to be getting?

Still feeling a little shaky from the dream-turned-nightmare, Amy stood and began to pace around the room, feeling torn and indecisive. If only Reilly hadn't vanished... If her mother hadn't died... if Sofia hadn't run off to who knows where... things would be different. Sighing, Amy rubbed her eyes, trying to dry the tears from them. She was strong, and brave, and tears would do no good. Staring down at the little ring she wore on a thin cord around her neck, Amy let her memory stray back to that day he had given it to her. Their last day together. She thought about Reilly, and what he would do if she had gone missing. No one would stop him from searching for her, he would let nothing get in his way. And so she made up her mind.

A few minutes later, she was knocking on the door of her mentor's office. She had splashed a little cold water on her face, hoping to wash away the traces of tears, but there was little she could do about how tired she must look, nor how little of her assignment she had actually accomplished before falling asleep. She felt a little ashamed of that fact, glancing down at the half-finished papers she had brought with her, but told herself it didn't really matter, as her resolve was firm in her decision. Still, she felt it only right to speak to Quintus, at least, first.


@Nessa Saelind

[Lailyn]

Falaneth
At reception with Malanor and (unfortunately..) Ms Irma

Falaneth’s brisk pace through the streets worked against her. The astonishingly vociferous screams being emitted for all to hear grew louder and louder as they caught up to Ms Irma and her unfortunate helpers. Honestly, did the woman ever stop to breathe? She must have lungs of steel to be able to carry on like that. The question of whether this loud-mouthed old woman could press charges or complain about her weighed on her mind the whole walk to the Houses of Healing. She almost stopped to ask Malanor at least twice and thought better of it, letting her thoughts continue to spiral around.

Falaneth watched the harried looking baker and apprentice with a twinge of envy as they quickly made themselves scarce. She wished she could vacate this scene, go home and never come out again, but her wrist throbbed in protest. The pain was getting worse. If she didn’t get it tended, she wouldn’t be of use at work, unable to write or shelve books, and then what would she do?

Malanor surprised her yet again with his comforting words. He seemed genuine and she suddenly wondered where the guards like him had been when her life had turned upside down. “I’m not so sure about that…” She fumbled with the handle of her bag. Standing outside the door he held open, she tentatively peeked into the reception area and finally asked him the burning question in a low whisper. “Can she really make a formal complaint against me?” She winced as Ms Irma screamed again.

Falaneth crept inside as quietly as she could and shrank into a corner with her back against a wall. Clutching her bag of groceries to her chest like a shield, she hoped to blend in. It felt like the safest place she could find among the chaos until a healer was free to see her. The wall gave her strength and with any luck, maybe Ms Irma would not notice the root cause of her current pain.

[Rillewen]

Nurse Maeth Dringolben
Reception

It had been more than a long day; it had been a long week, month, year.. decade, even. Only her work in the Houses of Healing helped to take Maeth's mind off of her own sorrows, the grief that filled her heart every night when she went home, when all her patients were tended and she had nothing left to do but go home to the empty house which used to be so full. Even Cali was gone now, though at least it was a gone as in living in another city, and not gone like all of the men of the family.

Maeth was just helping one of her sick patients to take his medicine when she heard a sound that foretold an even longer day ahead of her. Someone had dared to start yelling. Here, in the Houses of Healing! The woman was stunned at first, turning toward the door of the patient's room in both bewilderment as well as shock. Surely, everyone knew this was a place to be quiet, for the sick and wounded were here, trying to rest so that they may recover. She turned back to her patient, who looked a little alarmed, and put on a smile as she gently assured him that the yelling would stop soon, just lie back and rest, then the nurse excused herself to go and see what all the fuss was about.

By the time she arrived at the reception, Nurse Maeth was not in the best mood. She could understand a young child screaming its head off over whatever injury had come upon it. She could understand a pregnant lady in the midst of labor. But as she arrived in the reception, and saw the lady (Ms Irma) hollering and trying to attack those who had brought her here, with complaints about her ankle, the nurse found her fists planted on her hips, struggling not to glare.

Marching over to confront the troublesome patient, Maeth addressed the very loud woman using her sternest voice, something she'd had a great deal of practice with, having raised four, rather mischievous children. "Ma'am," She spoke sharply, while still keeping her voice at a hushed level, "you will kindly keep your voice down," She instructed, a rare spark of fire lighting flashing in her eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, you are in the Houses of Healing, where people come to rest, and recover from wounds and sickness, and all this noise you're making is distubring my patients and keeping them from the rest they need to get better." In fact, it rather infuriated the nurse to think of how many patients were being deprived of much-needed rest, thanks to this woman. "Such behavior will NOT be tolerated here, so you will either keep very quiet until you leave here, or you may leave right this moment, without treatment. The choice is yours."

Having spoken her piece, using her best 'no-nonsense-mom voice, the nurse waited, hands on here hips, hoping the threat of not being treated would be enough to make the loud woman hush up and act civilized. Of course, a back part of her mind wondered if she ought not to have said such a thing, as it was really the healer's decisions whether they would treat a patient (and of course they wouldn't turn someone down). But sometimes, people needed to be dealt with firmly and it was hard, at times, and she only hoped it would work in this situation.


@Lailyn @Winddancer

OOC: First time really posting Maeth, hope it's alright :) Irma really pushed her buttons, I guess LOL

[Winddancer]

Reception
Malanor and Ms. Irma

It was like watching a scene of an accident. There was no looking away even if he wanted to. Jaw dropping open, he watched with astonishment and growing fear as the healer (or nurse) berated Ms Irma. He even shot a look back towards Falaneth, his eyes more than betraying his bewilderment and sheer amusement as well as the growing terror. If anyone deserved a talking to it was definitely this woman. She was known throughout the Tower Guard and even used to break in new people as they were assigned to one of her ridiculous reports. But as much as she was a laughing stock amongst the guards, they all still held a healthy amount of fear of her and her inexhaustible outrage.

Too shocked by the events playing out, he did not answer Falaneth. Honestly partly because he did not want to scare the young woman even more as Ms Irma would most definitely be reporting her for this. Not that it would lead to anything apart from wasting everyone's time and upsetting the young woman even further, but a report was bound to be made. He would have to reassure her later, but he dared not speak now as he waited to see the "explosion" that was bound to come from Ms. Irma.

The air felt thicker somehow as an uncomfortable hush fell on the room once the nurse stopped speaking, hands on her hips. Already red in the face from having screamed at the men all the way here, her face went an unhealthy dark purple colour, her eyes all but bugging out of her pudgy pinched face.

"How. Very. Dare. You!" Ms Irma managed to force out the words without sputtering too much. "Gaurd! You are my witness that this woman is refusing me treatment!!" Her voice was nearing a shriek, though she was clearly trying to keep herself from outright screaming, again. "I demand to see your superior! I will have your job for this!" The last part she said with added venom as she stared the woman "down" from her seat on the chair. "Guard! Get me out of here! I will not stay where I am spoken to like this!"

Malanor cringed as Ms Irma snapped, his body curling in protectively like he was being physically smacked with every word. But even as uncomfortable as he felt and feeling the need to run, he still managed to step in front of Falaneth to hide her from Ms Irma's ire.

"Uh.. Ms.. you really need to have your ankle seen to.." he tried, cringing even more as she sent a red hot glare his way.

[Pele Alarion]

Master Healer Pele Alarion with Unalmis @Ercassie and Matilda @Nessa Saelind
Reception

"Suppose it would help to know that you can at least bandage a wound if nothing else," Pele responded upon finding out that Nal had come for training. A rather impish grin appeared on her face, when she added: "Though you better pay proper attention else I'm not sure anyone would want to trust you even with binding up a cut finger. Also, what's that about Naela? Did you have a secondary - or... primary? - purpose to visit with her?"

When Unalmis produced the envelope, she took it and began to examine the contents, putting up a show of innocence in terms of causing a possible further confusion for the young man with her comments. "It is good to hear that your father is recovering well," Pele remarked, as she read the note and looked at the images on the marked pages thoughtfully. It seemed that no matter how she tried to get used to the loss of the finger and act natural to avoid drawing attention of others, it was not something that could escape a practiced eye.

"Rohan, you say?" she spoke, as she considered the options presented by the contents of envelope a bit longer. Somehow she was not surprised. At any rate, it seemed that Addhor had at least listened to her recommendations long enough to give his limb some rest. Yet, perhaps she should pay him a visit before he escaped, at least to check on his health if nothing else.

Securing the envelope and everything in it away in a safe pocket, Pele turned her attention back to Nal properly and then glanced at the soaked and slightly crumpled looking flowers, sharing a knowledgeable look with Matilda. "Right, if you came for training, some of it you will get," the healer decided. "Come, let's head over to the storage rooms, and you will show me what you would take with you as part of the basic Ranger's healing kit."

[Nessa Saelind]

Ioreth and Nessa on their way to see Liriel and the twins (@Winddancer)

The Houses of Healing, surrounded by lawns and trees, were known for their serene atmosphere. It was usually a calm place of rest and healing, however, something was different on this particular day. Something was aflutter and a rhapsody of joy could be felt in the air. The buzz of excitement was palpable as the word that Liriel, the grocer, gave birth to two healthy boys spread throughout the Houses.

A successful birth of a healthy child always brought waves of jubilation and a sense of triumph to the Houses of Healing. For the birthing bed was a woman’s battlefield, and despite the knowledge and skills the midwives and healers possessed and prayers and offerings to gentle Estë, the outcome of this battle was never certain. Nevertheless, this day was for joy and celebration for a successful birth was a victory that should always be celebrated. Twin births were rare and carried with them more danger, so a successful birth of twins in the Houses of Healing was a cause for jocundity.

Amidst the joyous atmosphere two healers in dim-grey gowns, an elderly matron and a tall dark-haired young woman, headed from the warm and jolly kitchen to the treatment room. The two women passed through the wide and cool hallways in a sedate pace, while the younger of the two held a tray containing a large bowl filled with hot and deliciously hearty beef stew, a plate of garden salad, a smaller bowl filled with sliced up fresh fruit and a glass jug filled with orange juice. Ioreth, for the matron was indeed the renowned Gondorian healer, discreetly observed her companion noting that the woman clutched the tray tightly. The firm grip on the tray and a slight peakiness were the only sign that something was amiss with the young healer.

“I’m fine, you needn’t worry,” Nessa quietly answered Iorteh’s unspoken question. She glanced at the matron who was walking beside her, giving her a small smile and focused her attention on the tray she was carrying. Ioreth inclined her head but remained silent for the moment. She continued to observe Nessa as they walked.

“I am not exactly fine,” Nessa said quietly as they neared the room where Liriel and her sons were resting. Her gaze was still fixed at the tray in her hands, then at Ioreth, but she knew that the woman walking beside her was listening attentively. “I am feeling better… Better than before…” she paused as she struggled to find words to explain. Ioreth put a comforting hand on her shoulder and both women paused a few meters from their destination. Nessa still looked at the tray in her hands and nervously bit her lower lip.

“I… Today…” the young healer struggled to find words, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was afraid,” she said and finally lifted her eyes from the tray to look at Ioreth. “That we would lose the babes or the mother today… Twin births do not always end happily ever after…” she trailed off and felt a slight flush of embarrassment heating up her cheeks.

“But we did not,” Ioreth told her calmly. “Liriel is a strong and healthy woman who had 5 successful pregnancies,” the matron stressed the last words. “All of her sons survived childbirth and infancy, they are a healthy and boisterous bunch. She came to us on time and every healer and nurse I chose to be in that room, I chose for a reason,” Ioreth said firmly making Nessa look at her in surprise.

“Yes, my dear,” the elderly matron said with a kind smile. “As I told you in the birthing room, it was time for you to do it. To face your fears and overcome them. This is not an easy thing to do,” Ioreth’s voice softened with care for the young woman in front of her. “And it will not be straightforward. But you too are strong and you have a rare quality in you – you are not afraid to ask for help when you need it,” Ioreth observed Nessa noting the small smile on her face. “And we are here for you when you need us. We will always be here for you.”

“Thank you,” Nessa replied, confidence returning in her voice. “For now let me make another small, but important step. We need to bring this food to Liriel while it is still hot!”

Ioreth laughed slightly and in a few, now swift, motions they reached Liriel’s room. Ioreth rapped on the door in her own distinct pattern. It was not loud enough to disturb the babes, but neither so soft and quiet that Liriel would not hear it. And soon enough the permission to enter was given and both women stepped into the room.

“Hello Ms Liriel,” Nessa greeted the woman with a soft smile. “We came to check up on you and the babes. There’s some hot and hearty beef stew along with some fruit and vegetables for you here,” she said and brought the tray to the cabinet near the bed. “I see your sons are doing well,” the healer’s smile became wider. “And you? How are you besides tired?”

~*~

Study, Quintus de Scardena with @Pele Alarion

Although Quintus did not doubt that the Master Healer would agree with him regarding the matter of having more healers and apprentices in the Houses of Healing, he was more interested in her reaction to his question about her shoulder. The question was the reason he armoured himself with tea and pepper-honey biscuits and ventured forth to the study. His storm-grey eyes twinkled with amusement as he observed Pele’s reaction to his question. The Master Healer did not disappoint him with her answer.

“You would definitely have to lock me up and tie me to a bed for good measure if there was a need for complete ‘not allowed to do anything’ type of treatment,” Pele told him and sipped her tea. He chuckled at her response; it was what he expected of the outdoorswoman who loved nature with a fierce passion. Pele would not be confined to bed rest, not even for the King himself.

The healer turned administrator listened attentively to Pele as she offered a brief explanation about the treatment of her injury. He hummed and nodded his head at the appropriate moments, enjoying his tea in-between, but otherwise refrained from commenting. He sensed that Pele was reluctant to talk about her injury and recovery process with him, but after listening to what she chose to tell him of her recovery process he could not find fault in her actions.

“Tough, if you would rather see for yourself, you can examine my shoulder and such,” at the Master Healer’s final words Quintus lowered the, now empty, cup on the saucer and placed the china on the table next to him. He sat quietly for a few moments, observing Pele and contemplating her suggestion. Of course, he could examine her shoulder and later look at her medical records and compare the information about her injury. It was a sound suggestion from a level-headed colleague and perhaps one day he or another healer would be called to do exactly that.

However, he knew that Pele told him the truth, or as much of the truth she was comfortable sharing, regarding the treatment of her injured shoulder. And she trusted him enough or felt comfortable enough to suggest that he should examine her shoulder himself. He was honoured by that gesture of trust, for he knew that healers and rangers (and Pele, much like his son, walked in both worlds) rarely spoke about their injuries.

“I am honoured, Pele, and also glad and relieved by your suggestion,” he replied after a thoughtful silence. “More than you’ll ever know. However, I don’t think it will be necessary. You are a healer yourself, and a very sensible and practical person. You know your body’s limits and you would not endanger yourself or risk your health by ignoring an injury, or not treating it properly,” he said looking at her, his face and voice serious, but there was warmth in there. “Besides,” he continued the corners of his lips twitching in amusement. “The Warden of the Houses of Healing is usually not in the habit of naming fools as Master Healers,” he tells her his voice filled with mirth and an echo of laughter of things passed. For indeed, the Wardens of the Houses of Healing were neither known nor prone to promoting or suffering fools, but throughout the years there have been some unusual choices regarding promotions. Quintus should know, he was one of them. He shook his head and looked at the current Master Healer. “I believe I have enquired more than enough about your health for one day,” he said with a smile. “Perhaps I should now return the favour and allow you to ask me some questions hmmm,” he said and chuckled slightly. “Or we can just sit here and enjoy our tea and biscuits, perhaps share a story or two…”

[Rillewen]

Nurse Maeth
Reception with Ms Irma, Falaneth, and Malanor
@Lailyn @Winddancer

Maeth had lost her patience the moment she heard Ms Irma from the other room. Perhaps she should have clung to it a little harder. Perhaps she should have been sweeter, gentler, kinder... but that was far from how she felt right now. The thought of this woman screeching and making such a fuss when there were sick and wounded people trying to rest... thinking of how her boy might have spent his last hours hearing this nonsensical commotion -had this occurred when he were here dying- that thought brought out the worst in the widow woman, unfortunately. Still, she struggled not to be as rude back to the woman as she deserved.

The nurse clenched her jaws, carefully counting to ten in her head as the woman ranted on and claimed she'd get Maeth fired. Perhaps she would, but Maeth intended to be sure that this woman would not disturb any other patients, if she could help it. It was a real struggle to keep her voice calm and even, when she really wanted to scream right back at her. Of course, that would defeat the purpose of this entire conversation, though, so she was careful to maintain her own volume and tone as she replied back to the troublesome woman.

"I suppose, in addition to needing your ankle looked at, you are also in desperate need of having your ears cleaned, ma'am." She responded in a forced-calm tone, frowning, but using a tone as if speaking to an unruly child with whom she was disappointed. "Since you did not hear me clearly enough the first time, I shall repeat myself; If you cannot keep your voice down while you are here, then you may leave, untreated, or..there is another option I failed to mention before. We can always sedate you if we must, but we will NOT have any more raised voices, do you understand that, this time?" She stared her down, giving a stern scowl. "Now again... what will you choose, ma'am? Shall I get a sedative, or are you going to keep your voice down? Or, if you don't like those options, then you may always take your leave, as I said before. But I most certainly did not refuse you treatment. If you choose that option, it is your own choice." She spoke in her sternest 'mother' tone, and hoped that this ordeal would be over soon.

[Nessa Saelind]

Reception - Matilda Hawthorn with Unalmis (@Ercassie) and Master Healer @Pele Alarion

Matilda’s face was a portrait of serenity, one could almost say that the golden-haired nurse strived to imitate the painting of Beata Beatrix, as she observed Unalmis’ struggles. She looked beatific if one did not look in her cornflower blue eyes that betrayed her, for humour and mischief sparkled and danced in them.

“You’re Naela?” the boy, for his facial expressions, voice and actions made the nurse see the young ranger as a boy, inquired uncertainly. “No… I mean, can you tell me your name?”, he asked her tilting his head in confusion, cementing the impression of a confused lad with a scratch of his head. “Or is this a test? For the training?”

Matilda’s eyebrow arched in a questioning manner as she continued to observe the confused Unalmis. It was becoming apparent to her that the boy, for she continued to think and view him as a boy even though they were approximately the same age, could not remember who Naela was or what she looks like. The nurse continued to observe the young ranger as she mused about his behaviour. She wondered if his confusion about Naela’s identity was a result of a head injury, a blow to the head that caused a concussion? However, Unalmis did not appear to be injured… A bit clumsy, yes, but most male rangers tended to get a case of the clumsiness when they entered the Houses of Healing. The nurse bit the inside of her cheek to suppress a giggle. Injury was not the cause of the boy ranger’s confusion, Matilda concluded. It was more likely his nature, the boyishness still present despite his age and occupation.

She could see how this lost boy image the young ranger projected could simultaneously be endearing and a cause of frustration. He was certainly an engrossing distraction; a lost boy spirited away to Faerie where time did not pass and he was kept safe from harm. She shook her head, the golden locks of her hair swaying slightly. Perhaps it was she who spent too much time in the library, but the old stones kept memories of ages past and shared them with those who knew how to listen.

“So, what’s going on here?” Pele’s voice drifted toward the two people at the reception, interrupting their quaint interaction. “Any of you requiring a healing touch?”

The golden-haired nurse again bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop the giggle that threatened to erupt from her like the waves of fire from Amon Amrath. Unalmis certainly looked like he would need one, or at least a tonic for the migraine that was forming from all the thinking and remembering that was thrust upon him. She watched the interaction between the freewheeling young ranger and the semi-serious Master Healer with unbridled amusement. She moved slightly, fading to the background as only nurses knew, aware that she did not offer the lad her name.

For the moment Matilda minded not a jot that she remained a nameless dim-grey entity since Pele’s presence acted as a focus for Unalmis. The purpose of his visit stumbled out of him like a newborn foal and once the gate was opened the words did not stop. And Matilda could not stop an undignified snort when the boy ranger finally realised that she was not, in fact, Naela and proudly announced it. She lowered her gaze and let her hair hide her face slightly as she struggled to keep her mirth hidden from view. This boy ranger was truly in a league and a world of his own…

By the time the conversation moved on to Addhor, the nurse became sombre again and lifted her head. Tucking her hair behind her ears she felt slightly awkward for standing there, listening to a private conversation. It was not an unusual situation for her, healers talked to their patients or the patients’ family about private matters as well as their health in her presence. It was easier when she knew or at least treated the patient… Still, she felt awkward and hesitated to draw attention to herself. However, she needn’t have tried. In the end, Unalmis turned to her and apologised about the flowers and yawned. A bright, warm laugh escaped her.

“Can we please start again?” he asked and she gave him a warm welcoming smile in response.
“Matilda,” she said still smiling. “My name is Matilda, tis an uncomplicated enough name to remember. Do you think you can do that boy ranger?” she asked teasingly before turning to the Master Healer. “If you wouldn’t mind, ma’am, I’d like to stay and accompany you. I have a feeling that we’re going to need all the help we can get with the lad.”

[Ercassie]

Unalmis Raxëlilta
At Reception – with Pele and Matilda
@Pele Alarion @Nessa Saelind

Unalmis was not entirely sure how difficult it was to bandage an injury but the Master Healer seemed to be implying it would take some concentration to master the skill. “Do you not simply wrap the bandage around the part which is bleeding ?” he supposed with a shrug, unsure how more complicated it could be than that. Strangely enough there had been no keen crowd of volunteers for him to practice on thus far, and his initial healer training had been somewhat rushed when he had been still a recruit. There had been a siege fast brewing as he honed the necessary combat skills, much less a dreadful Enemy approaching, and so small time had in fact been taken to ensure he was properly educated on all he might have else. They had all but patted him on the back and sent him off to do whatever duty could be managed then by one so green. As much as Beren had tried to impart any learning on the subject of healing since, they two tended to become rather distracted by the telling of tales on how folk came by their 'heroic scars' and how they fought on still despite 'woeful wounds'.

Shaking himself out of the equally distracting memory, Nal noted that Pele was now wearing a none too dissimilar smile to the younger woman, and the Ranger frowned. What was their fascination with Naela and why did they think he shared it ? He’d scarcely said two words to the apprentice on the one occasion when he had been in her company ! She’d been rather fine to look upon, he recalled, but then so were flowers. Girls and flowers, honestly. There may be some hundred uses to either one where it came to healing, and also to looking pretty, but still there was that joke that all seemed to be in on. Opening his mouth to proclaim something of just this sort, he closed it again as the Master Healer returned words of his father.


Pele, thankfully, seemed more interested in the envelope he’d delivered, than in the message which Nal maybe ought not to have spoken. He couldn’t say why this was so, having never even considered that the contents of that envelope were anything of import or worth exploring. Payment for services rendered, plain and simple. If Addhor had meant anything of a more subtle message to Pele, his son was as unaware of it as he was ignorant of noting any missing fingers. His father hadn’t broken words with him on either subject, but that was nothing new. Unalmis tended to manage most of the talking, and not only in the company of his parent. It meant less time spent listening after all. Today was going to be either a tirade of many questions or simply a trial of trying to keep quiet and still and somehow still stay alert !

The flower girl was conducting a rousing performance of expressions all this time that the young man conversed with his superior and, he figured, belatedly, her superior as well. A laugh, a smile and finally a name escaped her. “Matilda,” he repeated, as though it was a strange exotic term, or perhaps just the first thing he had so far learned in training. “Now come, I know you know my name, or have you forgotten it already ?” Nal barely refrained from sticking his tongue out in a cheeky response back to her. Being called ‘boy’ though made him rise up so tall as he could manage and try to look something close to professional. But of course that ship had long since sailed.


“Wait, did you say ‘storerooms ? As in plural ?” he was shocked enough to retort without thinking of how inexperienced it might sound. “Exactly how many bandages do you need here ?” he wondered, half under his breath, and even as Matilda prophesised that Pele might indeed need all the help that she could get in this particular matter.

[Nessa Saelind]

Administrative building, the Senior Administrator’s office – Quintus de Scardena, Nessa de Argosy and Matilda Hawthorn discussing Fuin’s (@Raisins) case
Timeline: sometime after Fuin arrived at the Houses of Healing seeking treatment

Sunlight streamed through the high windows illuminating the large office of the senior administrator of the Houses of Healing. The holder of said office, Quintus de Scardena sat in an impressive, but extremely comfortable chair, that stood behind the imposing black lebethron desk that dominated his office. The surface massive desk that was usually covered with papyri scrolls, ledgers and parchment was now uncharacteristically devoid of those objects. Although a bottle of blue-black registry ink and a quill stood ready next to an unsealed letter marked with the words Urgent: Houses of Healing.

A round decorative brass tray inlaid with silver stood on the table, and on it, a large unadorned copper cezve half-filled with dark coffee along with three kahve fincanı and lastly a porcelain bowl filled with small and delicate rosewater and bergamot orange cubes of rāḥat al-ḥulqūm. One of three kahve fincanı, a handless white porcelain cup encased in a silver frame with motifs of leaves and vines, was already filled with dark liquid and the warm aroma of coffee and cardamom filled the office.

Quintus sat in his chair, slowly drinking his coffee and occasionally taking rosewater flavoured lokum from the ornamental blue and white bowl, while he waited for his visitors to arrive. As he enjoyed the warm unsweetened coffee he mused about the content of the letter that currently sat on his desk. It was delivered to the Houses of Healing by a large hawk, which was not the usual way mail was delivered in the White City. Birds were only used in case of great urgency. Dark wings, dark words the old saying went and the letter was troubling. Three people, a family judging by the tone of the letter, were trying to find an elleth that might be in their care. From the patients’ files and reports, Quintus had read a severely injured elf-maiden fitting that description was admitted to the Houses of Healing and treated by his former apprentice Nessa and the nurse, Matilda.

As if the mere thought of the two women summoned them, there was a distinct and familiar pattern of knocks on the office door. Quintus smiled and placed the fincan on the saucer, got up and walked to the door and opened them. He smiled and bowed his head slightly to the two women in dim-grey gowns and gestured for them to enter. Nessa, his former apprentice returned the smile and entered his office with grace and familiarity of a person who has spent many long hours there, followed by Matilda who greeted Quintus demurely and followed her friend to the two armchairs that stood in front of the black lebethron desk.

The golden-haired nurse and the young healer with chocolate-coloured hair took their seats and Quintus poured the rest of the coffee from the copper cezve to the two empty fincanı and passed the cups with coffee to his guests.

“Have some rāḥat al-ḥulqūm,” he offered, gesturing to the blue and white bowl with sweets as he sat down behind his desk and took his cup of coffee. “I like the rosewater ones, they’re light and airy, but the bergamot orange ones are deliciously zesty and refreshing.”

For a while, the three of them enjoyed their coffee and lokum, exchanging pleasantries about their families, work and studies.

“I received a letter that might be related to one of your patients,” Quintus said after a while and lowered his fincan on the plate and reached for the letter on his desk.

The two women looked at each other and lowered their own almost empty fincanı on the desk. Quintus got up and passed the letter to Nessa who took it from him with thanks. She gestured to Matilda to come closer as she opened the letter and started reading them. Quintus watched the two of them as they read the letter, standing close to each other, their heads bent and eyes focused on the letter.

“That’s Lady Grandmother, alright,” Matilda said lifting her eyes to Quintus and he noticed a fond smile on the nurse’s face and a mirroring one on Nessa’s. “She’s been holding out on us…”
“Tilda!” Nessa exclaimed as she looked at her friend in mock horror.
“Don’t you Tilda me,” the nurse responded looking at the young healer and Quintus’ smiled as he observed the banter between the nurse and his former apprentice. “Lady Fuin never mentioned having a husband, let alone a first husband as the letter says. Remember what she said about my Prince Charming comment? That his bones wouldn’t care how she looks…”
“And that she wasn’t very good at rescuing him…” Nessa said thoughtfully. “She did mention that he was a skilled enough warrior, so he should have been able to save himself…”
“But he’s alive,” the nurse said, sounding a bit uncertain. “Afarfin, her first husband, the one who Lady Grandmother and the letter said died in the First Age… He’s alive! Look, his signature is right there!” Matilda exclaimed gesturing to the letter. “Unless this is another elf, someone named after him…” she said feeling the heat rising on her cheeks. “That would be incredibly weird even for the elves…” she mumbled lowering her gaze and letting her golden hair cover her flushed face.

“I am inclined to believe that Afarfin from the signature is Lady Fuin’s first husband and that he was indeed killed during the First Age,” Quintus spoke calmly and the two women turned to look at him curiously. “I am not as versed in old lore and the Laws and Customs of the Eldar as some scholars,” he said shrugging his shoulders apologetically. “From the scrolls and books preserved in Minas Tirith’s library that I’ve managed to gain access to and read, with Lady Hellebore’s help…” he spoke noting how Matilda’s eyes lit up in recognition of the Librarian’s name. “It is common knowledge elves are immortal. From what I understood their souls are bound to Arda and they will remain bound to this world until it ends. If they are killed or die of grief, their souls go to the Halls of Mandos where they remain. After some time they are offered to be reincarnated…” Quintus said and paused for a moment to see if his explanation made sense.

“So, Afarfin died in battle, his immortal soul went to the Halls of Mandos, and after some unknown time he was reincarnated,” Nessa said thoughtfully, a slight frown on her face as she looked at Quintus. “And he returned or was returned to Middle-Earth?” she asked and Quintus nodded.
“It would appear so,” he replied. “I am afraid I do not know more of this matter. Perhaps our ancestors once did, if the Firstborn ever explained this to them… Perhaps they did and the knowledge was lost and maybe they did not. Death is intimate, even for those who cannot die…”
“They are looking for her,” Matilda interrupted. “Her family… Her first husband and the two others, Ruidil and Mylien… They are worried for her and she’s here and she doesn’t remember them! That head injury…” the nurse’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears of sorrow and frustration. “She’s not even aware that they’re worried and looking for her. She must think she’s all alone!”
“She is not alone,” Nessa tells her as she reaches out and squeezes Matilda’s hand in comfort. “Perhaps she cannot remember them at the moment, but she carries their love with her.”

“The head injury troubles me,” Nessa said quietly turning to her mentor. “It worried me from the start… She appeared to be recovering too quickly, even for an elf. But we knew nothing about her, nor did we have access to her friends and family to check for discrepancies… And with the information provided in the letter…”
“Yes, it is concerning. Has she shown any signs of agitation or aggression? Changes in mood or behaviour?” Quintus asked both of them. “Based on your, albeit, limited knowledge of the patient.”

Nessa and Matilda looked at each other, reflecting on their interaction with Fuin as they treated her.

“The guard who brought her in mentioned she was combative when she entered the City semi-conscious…” Nessa mentioned. “But other than being disoriented and having nightmares, which in itself isn’t unusual or out of the ordinary, she did not show signs of agitation…”
“I believe it would be best if you two go check on Lady Fuin,” Quintus said after a few moments of silence. “Matilda, if you would be so kind, would it be a problem if you work the night shift for a while to keep an eye on Lady Fuin? Providing that the patient agrees, it would be best if you could stay with her in the recovery room, you do seem fond of her,” Quintus said with warmth in his voice and the nurse flushed but smiled at the senior healer. “You are a familiar presence and she might calm down quicker without causing any harm.”
“It’s not a problem, sir,” Matilda replied tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “If Lady Grandmother is willing, I’ll make the arrangements.”
“You are most kind, Matilda,” he told the nurse. “I’ll make sure you get a few days off, as soon as it can be done.”
“Thank you, sir!”
“Thank you, my dear,” he says smiling. “Now, away with you two. I have an urgent letter I need to respond to.”

~*~

Nessa and Matilda on their way from the Administrative Building to the Recovery rooms to see Fuin

The young healer and the nurse exited Quintus’ office and headed towards the rooms of recovery to find their patient. They walked in silence, both deep in thought and worried about Fuin.

“She’s a very lucky person,” Matilda said quietly breaking the silence.
“How so?” Nessa asked, tilting her head slightly.
“Despite everything bad that happened to her she managed to find people to love, a family that loves her and cares deeply for her…” the nurse spoke her voice filled with emotion. “She might not remember them at the moment…” the nurse paused and Nessa stops and reaches out for the other woman’s hand. She takes it, holding it in a loose grip.

They stop in the middle of the empty stony pathway that leads to the recovery rooms. Matilda turns to Nessa and reaches out with her other hand and takes the young healer’s free hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. The air is filled with the scents of flowers and plants and sounds of nature – the buzzing of bees, chirping of cicada and the tweeting of birds. They stand there on the path halfway between two buildings, hearing echoes of human voices in the distance, not speaking. Merely holding hands.

“Will you be alright working the night shift?” Nessa asks after a while, her voice barely above a whisper as if hesitating to break the silence.
“Yes,” Matilda responds quietly but surely. “It’s not the first time I’ve been assigned to work night shifts. They’re not easy, but there is a certain calm in them. Although,” she says and her lips quirk upwards into an amused smile. “Transitioning from night shift to day shift is a pain in the posterior.” They both laugh softly some of the worry leaving them.

“Would you like me to ask Ian to keep you company?” Nessa asks cheekily.
“Absolutely not!” Matilda cries, her cheeks flushing with a rosy tint. “Don’t you dare ask him!” she tells her friend and notices how the corners of the healer’s lips are twitching upwards into an amused smile. “You are impossible! That daft giant will say yes just because it’s you asking him.”
“Would that be so very wrong?” the healer asks with unhidden amusement.
“Very, very wrong,” the nurse says but she’s smiling as she says it. “He’s already impossible and a pretty young healer asking something of him will just go to his head.”
“Than perhaps a comely young nurse should ask him,” Nessa replies her hazel eyes sparkling with amusement.
“You are impossible!” the nurse cries her flush deepening. “However, you are a great friend who knows the right words to dispel the gloom. Come,” she says slowly letting go of Nessa’s hands and linking her arm with the young healer and pulling her towards the rooms of recovery. “We have a patient to see.”

The young healer laughed merrily and let herself be pulled forward and matched her step with the nurse. Soon, both women slightly flushed from laughter and their quick pace arrived at the rooms of recovery and found Fuin’s room. Matilda unlinked her hand from Nessa’s and knocked gently at the door.

“Lady Grandmother are you decent?” the nurse singsonged. “Nessa and I are here, may we come in?”

[Nessa Saelind]

Administrative building, office of the Senior Administrator – Quintus de Scardena with Amethyst “Amy” Nerennia (@Rillewen)
November of 3018 T.A.

Radiant gold flames flickered cheerfully as the aromatic dried wood burned and crackled in the fireplace. The pleasant aroma of burning hardwood and soothing warmth spread throughout the office enveloping its lone occupant in a cocoon of comfort. It was bleak winter with sharp, icy winds blowing from Mount Mindolluin that brought with them the scent and taste of snow; intensifying the feeling of cold. But the winds of winter and the taste of snow were not the sole causes of bleakness and gloom. War was coming.

It was already on their doorstep. By the end of June of this year, the Enemy’s launched a sudden attack on Osgiliath. The forces of Gondor were overwhelmed and forced to retreat across the Anduin. While the engineers worked on destroying the last bridge on the river, a company led by the Steward’s sons, Boromir and Faramir, defended the last bridge from the forces of Mordor led by the Black Captain. The bridge was destroyed but it came with a great cost. The Lords Boromir and Faramir and two engineers, Old Novak being one of them, were the sole survivors. As if the decimation of Gondor’s eastern forces in battle was not enough for the Enemy, the Black Shadow – an evil blight descended on the defenders. The victims of this plague slipped into a cold dark sleep and never recovered.

A cold shiver passed through Quintus as he sat in a comfortable armchair near the shelves cluttered with books, scrolls, parchments, wax tablets, quills and styli along with bottles of various coloured inks and tins filled with various teas and spices. The Senior Administrator of the Houses of Healing sat in his warm office in a comfortable armchair, a large porcelain cup filled with hot tea on a low black lebethron table, and dwelled on the events that happened in late summer. He thought of Old Novak, one of the engineers that survived the attack on Osgiliath, who told Quintus what happened and of his own son, Decius, who was an army healer and treated the injured soldiers.

War was coming and dark and hard days were in front of them. A knock on his office door stirred him from his dark thoughts and the Senior Administrator was glad for the interruption. Without rising from his chair, for he decided his old bones were far too comfortable in the armchair near the fire, he called out allowing the person outside the door to enter. His second apprentice Amethyst, or Amy as she liked to be called, entered his office holding a few papers tightly in her hands. The look on her face made him stand up from the armchair and walk over to her. Although she tried to cover it, it was obvious to him that the girl was crying. Quintus was aware that Amy got engaged this summer and that her fiance, a member of the City Guard, was sent on some sort of assignment outside the City. Quintus did not know the details, he assumed the young man was assigned as part of the escort that followed the evacuation of the citizens of Minas Tirith to the western and southern fiefdoms of Gondor. However, he had not asked Amy for the details, reluctant as he was to pry in his young apprentice’s private life. The girl was different from Nessa, but then again Nessa was a close friend to both of his children, so he supposed it was much easier to ask the girl about her private life…

“Come in, come in,” he told his apprentice and ushered her to the armchairs and the warmth of the fire. “Have a seat, dear. Would you like a cuppa? Biscuits with it?” he asked as the girl sat in one of the armchairs in a daze. Quintus perched on the armchair opposite her and waited for Amy to respond to his offer of tea, choosing to let the young apprentice dictate the pace and course of the conversation she wanted to have with him.

~*~

Reception - Matilda Hawthorn with Unalmis (@Ercassie) and Master Healer @Pele Alarion

“Matilda,” the boy ranger repeats her name as if he’s was pronouncing a scientific name of an exotic flower. She tilts her head slightly, a small smile gracing her lips, and decides that she quite likes the way the boy said her name. “Now come, I know you know my name,” Unalmis continues and her smile turns into a grin. “Or have you forgotten it already?” he finishes and the look on his face tells her that he would want nothing more than to stick his tongue out at her for calling him a boy.

But sticking his tongue out cheekily would prove her point, she muses as she refrains from joyous laughter. He’s a very amusing distraction, this boy ranger, she thinks as she watches him straighten up from his slouched posture and standing to his full height. His height does not diminish the lost boy appearance the boy ranger is projecting, but he’s certainly trying his hardest to appear professional.

“Wait, did you say ‘storerooms’? As in plural?” the boy ranger’s ardent attempts of maintaining a professional appearance melt away like ice in the height of summer. “Exactly how many bandages do you need here?” he wonders under his breath, apparently shocked by the revelation that the Houses of Healing have and need multiple storerooms.

The nurse turns to the boy ranger with her eyebrow raised and tries to stop her lips from curling into a smile. She does not giggle at his question, despite its silliness and the fact that the boy in front of her does not seem familiar with the concept of logistics. Or the maxim that all armies have to be bred, fed and led – the axiom that also applies to the Houses of Healing.

“Yes. Storerooms, plural,” she answers his question seriously. “The Houses of Healing are the principal medical centre in the Kingdom and occupy a significant area of the 6th circle,” she starts explaining patiently. “When the architects designed this space they had in mind that the Houses of Healing would have to accommodate a large number of patients. For all of those patients to be treated and properly cared for the healers and the nurses need significant quantities of herbs, medicine, bandages…” the nurse quirks a smile. “If we did not have all those things at hand we would not be able to do our jobs. Just like if the rangers did not have enough arrows or spears or daggers or any other weapons you need,” Matilda gestures vaguely. “At your disposal, you would not be able to train or do your jobs to protect the Kingdom. And all those things need to be stored somewhere. Thus storerooms, plural,” she finishes her explanation, smiling kindly at Unalmis. “Hope I managed to clear some of the confusion, Unalmis."

[Raisins]

Recovery rooms sometime after her arrival at the House of Healing
With Matilda and @Nessa Saelind

Fuin had spent weeks now here, she was certain of it, the first few had sped by in a breeze, mostly as her head had spun and she had struggled to keep track of time and what was going on her head wound had been bad she'd known that. Her leg wound was almost healed now and she was allowed to limp around with a crutch on her own steam the last few days as they were certain she wouldn't collapse from the head wound. She could still feel lingering effects of her head bouncing off of the stone wall? Or had it been a floor it was all so fuzzy now. She couldn't remember much of the fight that had brought her to this state but it would come back with time she was certain. She had gotten a few pairs of clothing ( far too many dresses for her liking to be honest but they had said it was easier for them to treat her leg with a dress on and she couldn't argue a lick with that.

"Bloody dresses" She muttered when she heard giggling from outside coming towards her and knew the voices immediately. Sweet Grandchild and the healer Nessa were back, it had been a while since the both of them had come to see her at the same time, it had mostly been making sure the leg was healing asking her boring questions about what day was it (once they'd actually gotten her on the right day since her memory was a bit foggy to begin with that had been able to be answered correctly) what her name was where she was from more and more questions about her life in Imladris, and things had started falling back in place the mask had fallen back in place that hid just what she was, and the lies she told everyone to keep those things hidden. She smiled and laughed hearing the question about if she was decent.

"Nudity wise indeed, Fred may not survive though if you start picking at my wits! Of course you can come in." She chuckled and shifted on her bed so that she was facing them. She was not prepared for what they had to tell her at all.

Her brain railed against it utterly but she had her mask she had the years of training to hide herself, and what she was from her kinsmen who were far sharper of eye and ear than humans were. A message from her family?

She couldn't have family she was a monster, Ruindil Mylien, she nodded a smile still upon her face faces she vaguely remembered and names that went with them both humans pirates yes she remember them, they were like her in a way and they knew the darkness that dwelled in her that coiled and sprang and they accepted what she was yes. That family the family that she hid from all of elvendom - just like the rest of her true self. and then...

Afarfin.

The mask slipped the smile and joy was gone and for an instant her face went blank for an instant devoid of emotion. Her shining golden knight of the First Age. No. He was not her family he was dead he'd been run through, she'd seen it she'd seen it so many times she actively shook her head no when they said he was coming with them. He couldn't be he was dead he was kind he was good he was everything she no longer was. The host of Maeglor and Maedhros had taken him from her she watched his blood spill she watched Aigronding kill him because he'd been a traitor to the Noldor in love with a Morquendi like herself. She had to keep her fists from balling and she shut down, a smile slipping back in place hiding the pain she was in even at the mention of Afarfin seconds after his name had been mentioned. Their words were a din bouncing off of her no longer sinking in she only heard and understood enough to nod and answer them. Her head was spinning again worse than it had been when she had come to the House of Healing.

She couldn't understand why. She didn't remember telling them Afarfins name - she must have how else would they know it why did they bring it up now. They'd be here soon - she couldn't even tell which of the two women before her had said it

"That's good." She said with a nod, "They'll probably take me off your hands make room for more needed souls to recover." She said with a smile that matched the chipper tone of her voice as she chuckled. "You'll get a laugh Sweet Grandchild from Ruindil he's no Gondorian noble he's brasher than I am so perhaps no blushing." She said with a wink as the memories of her less than savory (at least by all the judges that stood in her life still from her youth would deem them) husband and wife started to return to her. "He'll be on you like a bee to a flower if you need help just give him a swat and call in Mylien she's a bit of a badger on that one if he goes too far."

[Lailyn]

Falaneth with Malanor, Ms Irma and Nurse Maeth

Falaneth shrank into the wall, solid and cool behind her. She wondered idly what it would be like to become one herself. To be stone and sand, solid and strong instead of small and quiet and soft flesh so easily wounded. She rubbed her wrist. A wall could watch and listen and learn without really being seen or noticed, sometimes so invisible they were walked into head on by those caught unaware.

Malanor stepped in front of her, bearing the brunt of the battle and it seemed that she was mercifully forgotten for a moment. She watched with wide eyes as the viper of a woman met her match in the nurse who scolded Ms Irma like a child. Or so she thought...instead, it added fuel to the fire and Falaneth swore Ms Irma’s screams somehow reached new heights that could quite possibly shatter glass.

She flinched. Even the guard seemed to melt a little under the woman’s hot air. Still, even after the way she hollered at him on the street, carrying on about the way he supposedly accosted her, and the way she looked ready to explode at any moment like a tea-kettle about to boil, the poor man did the impossible and kept a level head in advising her to do the only sensible thing. She felt a new burst of respect for him. Unfortunately, Falaneth did not believe the woman had a single sensible bone in her body and would not listen to reason. Perhaps a touch of drama, a subtle threat, would get through to her, like speaking her own deranged language...

“If I may…” Falaneth brushed past Malanor, giving up her cover, and frowned at Ms Irma, feigning deepest concern for her (though the expression was entirely genuine for other reasons, of course).

“You must have your ankle seen to...unless I misheard you before, I thought you said it was broken? I am sure the nurse would know more than me, but I am quite afraid that if you don’t have it tended very soon...it might need to be...” She looked at the floor, cringing, before she breathed the word as if afraid to say it out loud--

“Amputated.”

[Rillewen]

@Nessa Saelind

Amethyst "Amy" Nerennia
November of 3018, T.A.
Quintas de Scardena's office

Amy hesitated before entering the office. She didn't know quite how to begin, and as her mentor got up and guided her into a chair, she didn't resist. Though she hadn't come for tea and such, she found herself trying to remember when she last had a proper meal. "Thank you, I...that would be nice." She looked down at the papers she'd brought with her, feeling like an utter failure. "Sir," She tried to begin, able to look up at him for the moment. He must be wondering why she had come, and she wanted to explain, but there was a lump rising up in her throat that made it difficult to talk past. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down, letting it out shakily.

"I'm afraid I... I can't finish this assignment." After the words were out, she decided that didn't sound quite right. That made it sound like she was simply incapable of finishing it, when that wasn't really the case. "I..well, what I mean is," She stared down at the papers with blurry vision. "I can't finish it, because... I have to quit." The last bit came out in hardly more than a whisper. Another deep breath, another slow exhale. "I have to leave." It was hard for her to do this. She wanted very much to finish her training and become a healer, not just an apprentice. But something else mattered far more to her, and she knew she couldn't do both. Slowly glancing up at him, she wondered if he would be upset, or disapproving, or merely disappointed. Perhaps all of the above. "I'm sorry," She added softly, unsure of anything else to say.

[Pele Alarion]

Pele with Quintus de Scardena @Nessa Saelind
Study

Pele occupied herself with dunking the biscuit in what remained of the tea in her cup and then nibbling on it contentedly, as she watched for Quintus' reactions to the report she made of her shoulder. Though she disliked letting people know that she had any injuries at all, the shoulder was only a little bit of what still remained to be fixed. Had she returned here in the condition she was in when she had escaped from Umbar... though perhaps it would have been a better option than staying away for a few years and getting fixed elsewhere. But past was past, and currently she did not mean for it and any remaining injuries keep her from moving on with her life.

"Well, I suppose that healers also need someone to check on them once in a while," she added and shrugged lightly, as she sought to replenish the cup with some more of the warm aromatic liquid. "They might not necessarily be fools, but..." Pele could not help but wonder whether Quintus was aware how often she had worked herself to near exhaustion and how many risks she had to take when doing Ranger things. Surely, he was a very wise and experienced man, and some of the obvious signs would not escape his attention.

Settling back in her chair, she tilted her head at suggestion that came from Quintus. "Is there a reason for me to be concerned about your health that I should ask you questions? I certainly hope not!" she said, though mostly assumed that it was meant as a gesture of politeness. "A bit of relaxation and leisurely talk, on the other hand, would be very welcome."

For a few moments Pele did just that: she sat and breathed in the steam rising from the freshly poured tea, and then she asked, seemingly suddenly: "By the way... Could you recommend some highly effective sleep inducing aid?"

~~~~~
Pele with Nal @Ercassie and Matilda
Reception

She could not help but observe the interactions of the two younger folk with a grin; they seemed to tease each other, and it made Pele wonder whether she could use this for some additional benefit to the training. It would probably be vain to try and keep Unalmis focused on medical matters for long stretches of time, and a touch of fun and teasing might do good to keep him interested.

"Of course, Matilda," she agreed thus without much reluctance. "If you don't have any other immediate duties, feel free to join in."

While the young woman took upon herself to explain the meaning of many storerooms to Nal, Pele used the opportunity to look over the notes the receptionist had made and which had luckily escaped being drowned by the water from the toppled vase. Finding that there was not overly much of interest there, she turned back to the training.

"See, what Matilda said is quite so; the bigger the number of possible patients, the more provisions of all sorts we need here, including bandages," she added, and then returned to the aspect of using the said bandages: "If only that was so easy as simply tying something around the wound. Too tight and it will cut off the blood flow and you might lose a limb; not tight enough - the bleeding won't step and you might bleed to death. Use some unclean rag and you might get an infection..."

She then set off for the door leading to the hallway - and the storerooms, expecting the younger folk to follow suit. "Come on then, both of you. Let's see whether storerooms are really worth the name attached."