Houses of Healing II

Seven Stars and Seven Stones and One White Tree.
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Ioreth the Healer
Ioreth the Healer
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High up on the levels of the White City, near the Citadel Gate in the sixth circle there is a cluster of bigger and smaller buildings. These are the Houses of the Healing where the citizens and the visitors of Minas Tirith may find cure and treatment for their ailments.

The closest facility to the street is the reception – a short hallway from the entrance leads down to a room modestly furnished with a small table and several chairs made of the dark brown wood. There are some writing utensils and a page of parchment on the table, as well as a small vase with flowers which adds a touch of quiet beauty and peace to the room. Also, a few reference books are found on a shelf at the wall, within easy reach.

From the reception area the door leads to the rooms of treatment, where the patients are receiving the first necessary care. Each room contains a large table for treatment purposes, a bed, a couple of chairs and two smaller tables. There are shelves and cabinets along the walls, containing the healers’ equipment and medicines necessary for the work.

Not far from the Reception room there is a spacious study. A rather large round table stands at the centre of the room. Some writing utensils and parchments have found a resting place on it. The wall to the right of the door is completely covered with bookshelves filled with books holding the wealth of medical knowledge necessary for the deepened learning of the healers. From there the door leads further into the quarters of the healers and the storage rooms.

The patients in need of a longer treatment are housed in other buildings (recovery rooms). The rooms are made as comfortable and cozy as possible, the windows allowing in the light and facing out to the surrounding gardens. Each bed is covered with fresh white linens and a pair of soft pillows is set upon it. The nightstand at the head of the bed has enough space for the most necessary things. A chair stands close to the bed for the needs of the attending staff or the visitors.

Around the Houses of Healing is a garden with the paths leading among the trees, herbs, and flowerbeds. There are wooden benches here and there where patients can relax and allow the peace and calmness of the garden to soothe them. The garden lies close to the southward wall of the City, providing a beautiful view on the flats below, the Anduin flowing through it with the blue waters glittering in the sun, and the green woods of Southern Ithilien beyond it.

Thread guidelines:

All general RPG rules apply.
Post your location on the top of your post.
Whiteout your out of character comments.
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Locations (please post in the colour indicated for each location)

Reception (black - no colour code necessary)
Treatment rooms (dark blue - #0000A0)
Study (brown - #804040)
Recovery rooms (indigo - #4B0082)
Garden (green - #008000)
Healer quarters: apothecary, administrative building, kitchen, storage etc. (dark grey - #504A4B)

If you would like to join the staff of the Houses of Healing as a healer, apothecary, nurse etc., or start your apprenticeship in the Houses of Healing please post in the Reception and a member of staff will be with you shortly.

If you have any ideas, comments, questions or concerns please head over to the OOC thread and let us know.

Ioreth the Healer
Ioreth the Healer
Points: 1 442 
Posts: 957
Joined: Wed May 27, 2020 7:12 pm
List of the Houses of Healing staff

Master Healer: Pele Alarion
Healers: Linaiwe (Pele's NPC)
Apprentice healer(s)/pharmacist(s): Naela (Windy's NPC, apprentice healer), Eril (Frost’s NPC, apprentice pharmacist)
Healer(s)/pharmacist(s) on sabbatical: Durien Arrandir, Finduilas Nessa de Argosy
Nurse(s): Matilda (Nessa's NPC)
Administrative staff: Quintus de Scardena (senior administrator, Nessa's NPC)
Various NPCs anyone can use (in alphabetical order): Angelica (elderly head nurse), Delaramin (teenager, employed as a runner/messenger), Grace (teenager, employed as a cleaner), Miriel (“a most efficient looking woman” working at the Reception with Ralph), Ralph “the Receptionist” (an elderly gentleman working at the Reception with Miriel)

Ioreth’s repository

A list of articles, books, sites, Twitter threads and other helpful resources we’ve gathered or stumbled on during the years. If you’d like to add something to the repository please @ me in the OOC thread and I’ll add it to the list.

Arbøll, Troels Pank. Medicine in Ancient Assur

Blankinship, Kevin. "Jinn and tonic: Medieval Islam’s celebrity doctors"
Botanical - A Modern Herbal

CELT - Corpus of Electronic Texts: The Trotula ensemble of manuscripts.
CELT - Corpus of Electronic Texts: Irish Texts - Science & Medicine

Dioscorides' De Materia Medica

Green, Monica H. The Trotula - A Medieval Compendium of Women's Medicine
Green, Monica H. "Who/what is 'Trotula'"?

Hajar, Rachel. “Coronary Heart Disease: From Mummies to 21st Century.”
Hartnell, Jack. Medieval Bodies: Life and Death in the Middle Ages
Hartnell, Jack “Wording the Wound Man”

Judd, Walter S & Judd, Graham A. Flora of Middle-Earth: Plants of J.R.R. Tolkien's Legendarium
Juvin, Philippe & Desmonts, Jean-Marie. "The Ancestors of Inhalational Anesthesia: The Soporific Sponges"

Medicine in Ancient Egypt part 1
Medicine in Ancient Egypt part 2
Medicine in Ancient Egypt part 3
Minkowski, W L. “Women healers of the middle ages: selected aspects of their history.”

Ranhel, A. S., & Mesquita, E. T. "The Middle Ages Contributions to Cardiovascular Medicine"

Skinner, Patricia. “Looking for Burn Victims or Survivors in Medieval Europe" in Trauma in Medieval Society

The Baby Historian - the history of pregnancy, birth, and infant care around the world
The Recipes Project: A collaborative blog about the history of recipes
Theophrastus's Historia Plantarum vol. 1
Theophrastus's Historia Plantarum vol. 2
Turner, Wendy J. And Lee, Christina. eds. Trauma in Medieval Society
Twitter thread - cocotwistory or Coconuts in Medieval Europe
Twitter thread - female health practitioners in the medieval Islamic world
Twitter thread - medieval texts on female medicine

Wellcome Library: Early Medicine related resources
Wikipedia: Herbal tea
Wikipedia: List of abbreviations used in medical prescriptions
Wikipedia: List of medical abbreviations: Latin abbreviations
Wikipedia: List of plants used in herbalism
Wikipedia: Medicine in ancient Rome
Women in Antiquity: Midwives
Women in Antiquity: Women in Medicine
Last edited by Nessa Saelind on Sat Apr 03, 2021 10:35 am, edited 3 times in total.

Ilmarë
Ilmarë
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Tarawen, Recovery Room with Maenion, Enara, Findis, and Maegon

“The Rose Cottage,” Tarawen echoed, committing the name of the boarding house to memory. She’d have to ask Pele about it later to confirm it was a decent spot. If it wasn’t, she hoped she could count on the healer to suggest an alternative. “Thank you for the recommendation.”

Tara took yet another step back from Maenion’s bed as Enara began to fuss over her sleeping husband. Was it intentional that Enara had turned her back on Tarawen and blocked her access to and view of Maenion? Or was this just a coincidence? Tara’s brow furrowed in frustration at the way her thoughts had already turned suspicious. She had never been close with her family, but she had never felt this kind of prickling paranoia about any family member’s intentions, either. She’d certainly been angry and irritated with members of her family in the past - and for years at a time, too - but she had never questioned the soundness of their intentions. With Enara, it already felt different.

Even now, as Enara described how Maenion had spoken of her often, Tarawen was not sure what to make of it. The chilliness in Enara’s demeanor was matched - if not outstripped - by her daughter’s indifference. This made sense, in a way, as Findis was less bound by her relationship to Maenion to hide her distaste at the reappearance of his sister.

Maegon’s earnest smile was the most genuine thing she’d seen since Maenion had said he was glad to see her. Tara returned his smile with a slight nod, then spoke up. “I didn’t know it - I couldn’t have - but I am glad to hear it now. I thought of him and our parents often while I was away. My hope is that we can exchange stories and make new ones together now, rather than wondering what is going on in each other’s lives.”
she/her | ♫ I’m not mean, I’m a thousand years old and I just lost track of my moral code ♫

Ioreth the Healer
Ioreth the Healer
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Posts: 957
Joined: Wed May 27, 2020 7:12 pm
Recovery room – Nessa with Tom and Eril @Wildchild

When she arrived at the Houses of Healing the morning after one of the most dramatic days she had in the Houses since the War, she felt like a year has gone by rather than a day. Tom’s injury, then Eril’s heart attack and the struggle to save his life, her worrying over them and poor Thea… Walking to the recovery room where Tom and Eril were settled, she hoped that both of her patients had a quiet night and restful night, for they both sorely needed rest. Before she entered their room she stopped by the nurses’ station to talk to the golden-haired nurse who was on duty yesterday. The kind nurse, whose name was Matilda, assured her that everything was all right and that the night shift told her that there were no problems with either of her patients during the night.

Smiling gratefully at Matilda and with a promise she’d stop by when she was done, she walked over to the room and knocked. When she heard Tom saying she could come in she opened the door and entered smiling at the boy who smiled back. His hair was tousled from sleep, but he looked well-rested and his colour was back.

“Hello Tom,” she greeted him. “Feeling better?”
“You came back!” the boy exclaimed, his eyes filled with joy as he got up to hug her. She returned his hug happily, tussling his hair a bit. “I’m much better ma’am. Don’t even feel woozy! Dad looks better too!”

She turned to look at Eril and indeed he looked better than he did yesterday. He was still paler than normal, he tossed a bit in his sleep… All things considered, and from what she could see at the moment, it looked like the man would survive this episode. Barring any complications, with much work and discipline, he could recover. But did he even want to recover, was the question. She glanced at Tom and hoped for his sake that his father would fight.

A hacking, dry cough from Eril’s bedside had them both turning to the man. Tom let her go and was at his father’s side at a moment’s notice. She walked over to the night-stand on which a pitcher filled with water and a clean mug stood and she poured water into the mug.

“Tom? Tom are you there? I… what happened?” Eril called out in confusion.
“I’m here dad!” Tom exclaimed happily. “We’re at the Houses of Healing. Something happened to you…” the boy started to speak faster, the words tumbling out of him. “You fell on the floor and… I was scared… But mistress Nessa helped you and now we’re here! And you’re alive! And mistress Nessa said you were going to be fine if you take your medicine!”

She watched as the boy happily chatted to his father and smiled at both of them. “Let me help you sit a bit and you can drink a glass of water before you tell me how you feel,” she told Eril and waited for him to nod before fixing the pillows and helping him up.


~*~

The birthing room with @Winddancer

After hours of labour and delivery, it was no surprise that Liriel looked confused by her comment. The woman was exhausted and the pain from childbirth certainly didn’t help matters. Still, she persevered and not long after she gave one final push and the placenta was expelled. Nessa quickly wrapped it in a cloth that was next to her and got up. She needed to oversee that the ritual burning of the placenta was done correctly. This was the final step in childbirth and the midwife’s sacred duty; ensuring that the placenta would not be used in witchcraft. Or for a curse that could harm the mother and child. Heather, one of the nurses that Ioreth chose to assist, followed her as she went out of the birthing chamber carrying the wrapped placenta in her arms. The nurse would act as a witness to the ritual.

Meanwhile, Matilda held the exhausted mother of two newborn boys as the woman struggled to manage her pain. The twins, whom Ioreth checked for possible deformities and after listening to their hearty and robust cries declared them healthy and fit to rear. Both boys were cleaned and swaddled while Matilda and Bryony helped the mother get up and get to bed. While Matilda made sure that the mother was comfortable Ioreth and Bryony brought the twins over, Ioreth holding the elder of the two while Bryony held the younger.

“Congratulations my dear,” Ioreth told the exhausted Liriel cooing over the baby before handing him over to his mother. “He’s a strong boy, his brother as well. You can nurse him and his brother now,” she said, glancing at the other boy who was still in Bryony’s arms. The girl was cooing at the child a look of pure joy on her face. “Do not worry if you don’t have enough milk for both of them. We’ll arrange a wet-nurse to come if needed. You can talk to Nessa or any of the nurses here about it.”


~*~

Treatment room – Nessa and NPC Matilda with @Fuin Elda

While the water for Lady Grandmother’s bath was being heated Matilda oversaw the lads as they cleaned and readied the tub. She was leaning on the wall in the antechamber of the balneae, her lips curved upwards as she listened to them talk. When everything was ready she marched them over to the treatment room where Nessa and the Lady Grandmother were. Before letting them in she knocked and poked her head in to ensure that they were not interrupting anything. Although she didn’t think there was much to interrupt, there were reasons why you knocked first (preferably waiting until someone told you to enter) before entering any rooms in the Houses of Healing.

To her delight the Lady Grandmother, who now had a name even, was awake and Matilda grinned ushering the lads in; making sure they kept their gaze firmly on the floor. She didn’t need them gawking like schoolboys and dropping something or spilling all that hot water around the room. However, Fuin, the 7.000-year-old elf who was shocked to be called grandmother (honestly!), was amused by the whole situation. Matilda tried hard not to laugh at poor Fred, who was redder than a cooked lobster at this point. Faced with 3 women in various stages of amusement at their expense, the lads made quick work of their task and made a hasty retreat, closing the door behind them.

She left the towels and the box of bathing supplies on the bed while she and Nessa helped Fuin get into the tub in such a way that her leg wasn’t soaking in the water. The dressing was bound to get wet sooner or later and would need to be changed since Fuin decided to act like a 7-year-old lass. Matilda smiled and shook her head as she watched the elleth blowing bubbles in the water. She shooed Nessa, who looked like she was going to dissolve in a heap of giggles as she watched Lady Grandmother’s childish bath behaviour, which to be fair probably reminded her of her daughter.

Taking a cup and filling it with warm water she poured it over Fuin’s hair. Then she took the soap that had lavender, rosemary and juniper-berry oils in it, lathered it and started slowly and gently washing the elleth’s hair as she hummed an old folk tune that mentioned yellow quinces of Minas Tirith. While the nurse helped Fuin bathe, Nessa tidied around the room, found fresh bandages and the ointment containing a concoction of rosemary, turmeric and calendula she used on the elleth’s injured leg. Taking the grey dress Matilda brought over along with the rest of the things, she brought them over to the bed.

By the time she was finished with everything, Fuin’s hair was washed and wrapped in a towel and the nurse and the healer helped the elleth out of the tub and got her dressed. As Fuin sat on the bed Nessa redressed the wound on her leg, applying a fresh layer of ointment and clean bandages.

“We’ll get you some loose-fitting trousers and a tunic later, grandmother,” Matilda said noticing Fuin’s discomfort with the dress. “Now would you like to eat some more before we take you to the recovery rooms? Or would you prefer if I call Fred and the lads to carry you there?” she asked her with an impish smile, watching as the healer dissolved into very unladylike giggles at the suggestion.
Wyrdwritere. She/her. I contain multitudes.

Counsellor of Gondor
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Pele Alarion
Treatment Room with leaving Addhor, Nal, and with Naela


Eventually she was satisfied with the state of things Addhor's leg was in, and she no longer objected to him leaving, though she could only imagine the conversations that might take place between him and his son as they walked home.

"Well, if you don't overburden that limb, it should heal up nicely, and..." Pele added as a final note and then only nodded her understanding as the two men finally left.

Hearing Naela chuckle, Pele turned towards her, a grin playing on her own face. "Sometimes you have to be creative in getting patients sorted out... they might not always be the most convenient and accommodating either," she commented, letting out a soft laugh. "But some previous knowledge of them certainly helps at times. I hope he will be reasonable enough to let that leg rest, though."

Pele collected a spare bandage and put it away with the others in one of the cupboards, and seeing the jars, she turned to Naela again. "Clivers. Do you know what that is?" she asked, and then continued: "It's a very common plant, also cleavers, goosegrass, barweed, hedgeheriff and probably called by many other names. The ointment made of it has some healing properties." For a moment the healer considered whether she should provide more details, but then added: "If you want to know more, do ask later. I think dealing with these two has made me tired and I might take a little break unless there is someone in extreme need of healing. You can clean up here, or see if you can aid other healers if you don't want to rest. Agreed, Naela?"

Pele had half a mind to escape into the healers' quarters to sip a cup of tea in peace, so she drifted out the door leaving the apprentice healer to ponder the recent events.


Reception


As she walked through the hallway, Pele stopped only for a moment before the door to the healers' quarters and then continued on to the reception. After all it would not do to have a tea party if there was anyone needing help. Luckily there were no patients, yet the receptionist Miriel quickly raised her hand as soon as she saw Pele to catch her attention.

"What is it, Miriel?" the Master Healer asked with a small sigh, coming up to the desk.

"Why, you were sought after," the receptionist said, and seeing Pele's questioningly raised eye-brows continued: "What's her name," she checked her notes. "Ann Kalagon, a veteran ranger. She went into the gardens."

"Ann?" Pele's blue eyes widened, and she rushed out into the garden without waiting for any further information Miriel might have for her.

Garden, looking for Ann @Ankala Teaweed

The gardens of the House of Healing was a rather spacious place, and Pele hoped that she would not have to look for her friend for a very long time. She hastened along the path, looking this way and that, and finally noticed someone standing by the southern wall.

"Ann!" she called, having stopped to observe a while and make sure it was not someone else. "It has been such a long time! How have you been?" Pele quickly came to stand by her former comrade and without thinking much reached out to give her a heartfelt embrace.
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

Councillor of Elrond
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Treatment room – with @Nessa Saelind and NPC Matilda

Fuin couldn't say she didn't enjoy having her hair washed. It was quite relaxing and she sat and enjoyed it though by the end between her hair and all the other grit that had been on her the water was quite dirty. The scars on her for the most part faded away now that they weren't highlighted in dirt anymore, except for the one.

She was not a fan of getting her wound rewrapped but was glad to see how clean it looked and that it wasn't infected if she'd not been an elf she was certain she'd have likely lost her leg to infection in the amount of time it had taken her to get to the house of healing with the wound. She was deep in thought her head still hurting a bit but the massage and the bath, had made her feel far more normal than before when she caught Nessa giggling at Matilda's comment about getting Fred to carry her.

OHHhhh Sweet Grandchild, she thought, two can play at that game. She blinked innocently a couple times. "Fred? Do you think he survived? He was quite red, I'm certain he had an bleed from how red he turned." She folded her hands daintily on her lap. "If he did survive I don't think he would manage actually carrying me. The poor thing would probably faint from the blood rush to his head and you'd have to treat another concussion if he hit his head while fainting." And then the grin came out. "Perhaps you can get him to hand feed me in the recovery room, put a bunch of pillows about for safeties sake."

She chuckled, "I think with your help I can make it to the recovery room, I will eat again after that just in case the movement causes any issues." She said calmly not wanting another round of nausea like the first one.

Ancalagon
Ancalagon
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Liriel and her babes

There was nothing special about the bed, yet as her exhaused and aching body settled onto it she let out a sigh, wishing she could take a nap. But as the room filled with two needy squalls, she gave a tired grin and accepted one of the babes from Ioreth. Her eyes quickly roamed the swaddled babe, taking in every minute detail, cooing to him softly as he cried out his hunger. She had five lads already and now she was graced with two more. TWO! She could still not quite comprehend how she now had two babes and not just the one. As if to solidify the thought, the other young nurse placed another squalling babe in her arms. Tears poured from her eyes as she looked at them, the love for them already so strong that it made her heart ache.

The nurses let her have her tender moment, stepping back a bit to give her some space as she fought to blink the tears from her eyes so that she could see them clearly. Blurry or not blurry, there was no way she was going to be able to tell them apart. That was until she noticed a tiny birthmark on the back behind of one of the babes ears as he turned to try and nuzzled against her chest. She let out a relieved chuckle, shaking fingers going to the mark to make sure that it was not dried blood.

"They look so alike.." she mumbled to no one in particular. Carefully shifting them both, she managed to hold them out from her, their heads cradled in her hands. "Look at them.." she said with amazement. They look identical." Her voice was full of wonder, never having seen identical twins in her life, not even really aware that such a thing was even possible.

Gently placing them on her raised legs, she took a few moments to make sure her legs stop quivering before she pushed down the sheets and began unlacing her gown. With the help of one of the nurses, she managed to place the babes at her breasts, each babe lying down under her arms, away from each other. "Wow.. this is going to take some getting used to.." she said with a small amount of concern, seriously considering the offer of a wet nurse. However she had never had trouble with the supply before, though this time there were two.

"Let me go in! I want to see my wife! I heard the cries, so she must be done!" The loud voice could be heard through the closed door, though Liriel did not even look up as her babes latched on and began to suckle. "You might want to let him in before he kicks the door in, she said with a quiet chuckle, her eyes never leaving the babes.

***
Naela

Again she wished she had brought a notebook as Pele shared some of her knowledge about Clivers. She had heard some of the more common names for it, but did not actually know that they were the same thing. "Oh.. huh.." she mused out loud with a thoughtful look on her face. The look on her face switched to one of concern as Pele suddenly stopped and asked if they could continue the lesson later. Was the healer ok?

"Of course Miss.." she responded, still not knowing how to address the healers here. Left on her own, she blinked for a few seconds before finally looking around the room, a hand going up to scratch at her hair as she wondered just how in depth she should be cleaning the room. Well she could get started with tidying up, she thought as she started rolling up a loose roll of gauze and closed the cupboard doors. She even remade the bed, though was unsure of whether she had to change the sheets, seeing as Addhor had been seated on them.

Grabbing the bin with the broken sherds in it, she made her way out of the room in search of one of the other nurses whom she could ask.


***
Maenion, Enara, Maegon and FIndis with Tarawen

Tarawen's answer did nothing to placate Enara, merely gaining a disapproving huff as if to say Tarawen should have made the effort to come home sooner. At that moment, Maenion stirred and mumbled. The only word that could be heard clearly was Tarawen's name, Enara's face falling as if she had been slighted. Her thin lip quivered for a moment before she drew in a sharp breath and then forced herself to continue wiping her husband's brow.

"I would like to be alone with my husband for a while, if you don't mind?" The tone of the question ensured that the question was more of an order and not a request. Giving Tarawen a sharp look, her eyes moved to her children. "I will meet you in the gardens.."

Maegon did not need further encouraging, immediately bounding for the door. Findis on the other hand sighed as if she was thoroughly put out by having to leave the room. Stuffing her nail file into her small purse, she gathered her skirts and gracefully rose and stomped out of the room, her heeled boots loud on the bare floor.

Once the children had left, Enara gave Tarawen another look, daring her to object to her request.

Counsellor of Gondor
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Image
Study (sometime between Ranger missions)

Just for a moment Houses of Healing seemed to be quiet and there were no urgent tasks lined up in a long to-do list, so Pele had decided to relax and look through the books, combining the pleasant and the useful activities.

She moved two chairs to the window, setting down a couple books on herbs on it, as well as a mug of steaming meadowsweet tea with a generous addition of honey. Soon the collection on the chair was joined by necessary items for taking notes.

When Pele was satisfied with the gathered supplies, she settled down in the other chair, leaned back into it and propped her feet up on the windowsill. Reaching for the tea, she sipped from it carefully, while looking out the window into the garden. The scenery was as beautiful as always, the wind gently swaying the branches of the trees this and that way. She sat like this for a good long while, enjoying the simplicity of being, and yet, when her mug of tea was half empty, she set it aside to pick up one of the books.

At a leisurely pace the healer leafed through it, spending more time on some pages than the others. Eventually, she jotted down a couple of quick recipes:

Mint stuff:
2 parts spearmint
1 part chamomile
1 part St. John's wort
1 part nettle leaf
1 part rosebuds
1 part orange peels

Chamomile stuff:
2 parts chamomile
1 part valerian
1 part lemon balm
1 part hops
1 part catnip


Putting aside the notes and the first book, she picked up the second book and opened it with one hand, while holding the mug of tea in the other hand and sipping from it occasionally. It came into her mind that a slice of delicious cake or at least a cookie would have been great with the tea, but then again she was not about to leave her comfortable place to go in search of those.
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

Loremaster of Gondor
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Some time between missions


Turin was exhausted. He knew he was out of shape. The recent mission showed him that. His skills had diminished to a level he felt was too far below his standards as a competent swordsman. He was even ignoring the fact they were going to diminish from his lack of keeping up with training at the former captain level. But he felt they were below that of a squire, if not a page back in the day. His skills in reality were not that low, but he was extra hard on himself.

He’d spent the last few hours on the training grounds. His cardio wasn’t too bad, and his balance was decent, but his coordination was off. Way off. He could hear his old trainers in his head berating him. Heck, the idea of him even bringing up his old skill of dual wielding would be put down in an instant. Not that he felt the need to even use that skill at the moment.

Turin sat on a bench outside of the training grounds. His arms ached. In a bag at his feet were the weighted gloves he used to work his arms again. He remembered one of his old trainers having him use one to get his off hand used to weight for use of a sword. He’d gone through the various motions to get muscle memory back. Not to mention the many pushups he did, and the miles he ran.

His water skin was empty, and his clothes were drenched in sweat. “Where should I go? Home? To the barracks?” he thought to himself. He leaned back on the bench and looked up at the sky. There were few clouds overhead, but in the distance, it looked as though a storm was possibly coming in the next couple days. “Hmm. I wonder.” He mumbled to himself. “Was she working today?”

He wracked his brain trying to remember when she said she was working. “I think she said she was on duty today. I might swing by there.” A large smirk crossed his face as he stood. “Yes. I think I might pay a visit to that beauty.”

Through the circles he went and eventually he found himself at the entrance. On his way, he’d considered stopping by his house, it still felt weird to consider it his house for some reason, to drop off his training gear, but he reconsidered it just to see what the healer would say to his excessive training. He walked through the front door. His bag hanging over his left shoulder. His dark blue shirt was still damp, but not as bad as it had been at the end of his workout. His trousers and boots showed the grime of his exercises, as did his hands and forearms. His face was no longer red, but if looked upon closely, it could be easily discerned he’d been working hard recently, ignoring the evidence of sweat.

Turin approached the front desk. There was an older looking fellow there along with a lady who had the air of someone who demanded efficiency. His mind raced trying to recall their names. Before he could come to any conclusion, the man spoke.

“Good afternoon sir. How can we help you?”

“Ah, yes.” Turin said almost stumbling over his words. “I was wondering if I might could see that Mrs. Ringhûn, or she might be known as Mrs. de Argosy.”

“What seems to the problem sir?”

Turin twisted his face about. He hadn’t thought this through well enough. “Tell her a helpless fool worked himself too hard.” he eventually said.

Ralph furrowed his brows, but seemed to catch on to something. “I’ll have her notified sir.”

Turin grinned and moved off to the side and sat in a chair along the wall and waited to see what his beloved’s reaction would be.
Always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy- Stonewall Jackson
Hubris guarantees disaster.- T C

Brewer
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Ann Kalagon
In the HoH gardens

Life on the road had not been soft on the former Hyandaner’s garments. Her best tunic and trousers from Bree had been a bright mossy green when new; sunshine and wear had faded both to more of a lichen green. Her leather gauntlets, belt and boots were a darker shade of green. The black leather sheath of her ancient sword was richly tooled with runes of protection—some of which were visible where it hung from her belt.

Looking over the southward wall of the gardens and out across the Pelennor Fields, she could see fair Ithilien across the great river. Does Ithilien seem greener than before? Ann was a bit lost in thought as she enjoyed the stiff breeze now rolling across the mountain through the City. There! What is that smell? I know that smell. Is that fennel? She turned toward the nearer section of the gardens and scratched her head. And what was that sweet one now wafting up into the breeze? Which flower was that? Just at that moment, all thoughts of smells of herbs and flowers flew out of her head. She heard her name called and turned to see her former SinC Pele Alarion walking toward her along the garden paths.

"It has been such a long time! How have you been?" Pele was saying, as she came up and then hugged her. Ann had been about to salute, fist to chest, but instead returned a real bear hug. And everything felt right—her personal mission was accomplished.

"Pele! I am so relieved to find you here. Well, I figured this was where you would be. I am well, my friend! I am only now returned to Gondor. I cannot recall when we last spoke? But I have been far away and back, across the north from Dale to Greenwood to the Misty Mountains, Bree and Arnor, and then down along the old Greenway.

"Yet may we go inside for a bit? In all my traveling, I kept the needs of the Houses of Healing in mind—as this was my last home here in the City—and I have gathered supplies all through my travels." She nodded toward the two rather stuffed-looking leather saddlebags at her feet.

"We should open this up inside, and log it all. Pele, I am weary enough I fear otherwise my memory of the provenance of and some identifications of these medicinals will fade or become confused if broken out later?

"Yet, just to say, Yes! I brought you some honey from my Beorning cousins. Sweet honey in the comb with the queens jelly. I have a range of goods and sundries herein from the Greenwood to Dale to Arnor, and more. Everything from medicinal Dwarvish roots to three variants of athelas." Ann quit rambling and smiled.
fka Ann Kalagon, Hyandaner

Mae Govannen, my friends!

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Gardens with Ann @Ankala Teaweed


"Well, it would be either here or somewhere in the Ranger barracks, or training grounds," Pele replied, as she looked Ann over, quite unintentionally evaluating her condition and wellbeing. "And it has been... many years, I suppose." These were not the years Pele liked to think about, and yet ever so slowly she had started dealing with them to mitigate the effect they had on her present and future.

On the other hand, Ann seemed to have had many a travel, hopefully without any serious mishaps along the way, except for the obvious simple tiredness.

"Ah, are you telling me you have carried these bags all over Middle-Earth with you and only kept adding more good treasures to make the baggage heavier?" the healer asked, chuckling softly. "Again, it is so good to see you! But you are right. Let's have this stuff put away, and also I'm sure you would like a cup of tea and perhaps a bite of something after the road? It would be awfully inhospitable of me to keep you out here and let you look for the sustenance in the garden, no?"

Pele carefully hoisted up one of the bags, and nodded towards the Houses. "Let's go to the healers' quarters then and sort this out," she suggested. "I also want to hear of your adventures, Ann, as it seems you might have had quite a few!"
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

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Ann Kalagon with Pele Alarion
In the HoH gardens

As Pele asked her, "are you telling me you have carried these bags all over Middle-Earth with you and only kept adding more good treasures to make the baggage heavier?" Ann picked up the other saddle bag, and replied, “YES! That's right. Well, the collection started with my mother, truthfully. We will unpack her share first."

Ann said, “Pele, I remember the Rangers mission to Tharbad; maybe we last spoke in the old Barracks office before that? I relinquished my barracks office shortly before the war. It was time for someone else to take the responsibility. My memory of those last days is a little patchy?”

And as they turned and walked along the garden pathways towards Pele’s destination, Ann responded, “Adventures? Oh yes—many stories—too many to recount quickly. After the siege, I recovered here in this good house from the beating I took in what was a sort of melee with the orcs . . . Well, how much of my patchy memory was from a knock on the head, and how much was from the black breath . . .” She inhaled deeply and looked about.

“After my recovery, I remained in Minas Tirith for the coronation of the King that May 1, and then after the arrival of Queen Arwen Evenstar and the marriage, it was time to go home and see how my family and my village had fared. An injured Ranger I had met here alerted me of a group leaving to travel north—some elves, too—heading homeward bound to points north along the Great River. I gave away most of my Barracks gear, donated all the books, paid off my tab at the stable for the care of my horse. And I found myself riding north with a group of a couple dozen travelers. Most were headed toward their homes—some in the forest villages like me.

“On the journey we were at ease, making as many miles in a day as felt good. The weather was good with summer before us. We ate a lot of fish, sometimes with found root vegetables that grow wild around Anduin farther north. After the fens, two of the Lothlorien elves escorted us to fords upstream of Nimrodel and the Silverlode where our horses could cross, and then they escorted us blindfold through the northern end of the Naith. This allowed us to continue north up the river, and not so close to the Dimrill Dale, where there may have been remaining orcs in Moria.

“We journeyed on till finally we reached a ford of Anduin where she is very wide over a flat, rocky riverbed. This ford the horses could cross to the east side with care. Then we were within a few days of the forest villages in the western eaves of the Greenwood, and Fall was coming on. I found my village of Alder had suffered few losses in the fighting. And I spent two seasons there catching up with my parents and friends.

“My mother, Rose, began then to instruct me of her tincture recipes. She works with her good honey and the local flora of the forest, which is healthy in most places today. One day, Rose was making tinctures for me to bring back to Minas Tirith, and I was collecting some chamomile flowers for a tea, when the spiders attacked . . .”

Ann Kalagon left off her storytelling as Pele led her to the door of the Healers quarters, and said, “That tea and a bite would be most welcome! The food would refresh my energy.” The spiders attack story could wait a bit.

fka Ann Kalagon, Hyandaner

Mae Govannen, my friends!

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Afird Splitaxe
Reception

"You found my pack!" Afird exclaimed jumping to his feet and reaching out to take it. For it was heavy, and he wished to relieve the Master Healer from the burden of it.
" I am so happy to see it! And you too, @Pele Alarion !" He grinned and bowed low. "I wanted to thank you again before I left this fine establishment. You took such good care of me and I shall not forget it." Smiling at the healer, he reached up and touched his brow.
"My injure is healing well. Your care and the resilience of my race have made time here fly by." Suddenly there was a loud moan and growl coming from below the dwarf's beard. It was his stomach. He hadn't eaten in sometime. Smiling sheepishly, he covered his mid area with his large hands in the hopes of muffling his growing stomach and said to the healer.
"It appears I must now take care of the growling belly beneath my belt. I guess I will be off to find a meal or two. Have you any ideas where I can find a good meal? Is the pub the only establishment? Also, I am looking for work. I am new to the city and not sure where to begin. I am an ax maker by trade but, I am good with any kind of building and masonry work. Have you an idea where I should start? "

Ioreth the Healer
Ioreth the Healer
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Treatment room to the Recovery room – Nessa and NPC Matilda with @Fuin Elda

The nurse observed Fuin with open amusement, watching as the elleth caught up on her teasing, at the same time noticing how her more subdued hælend friend seemed to relax and just enjoy the (much needed) light-hearted fun and teasing. The impish smile on Matilda’s face blossomed into a wide grin as the Lady Grandmother folded her hands, like a right and honourable proper lady she obviously did not aspire to be and expressed her concern about “poor” Fred.

Then Fuin grinned and let loose a volley by suggesting that Fred could feed her in the recovery room, provided they put cushions all around in case the lad fainted again. Neither the nurse nor the healer could contain their laughter at such a gloriously ludicrous image the elleth painted so they both guffawed loudly and unashamedly. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Fred’s opinion on the said matter remained a mystery for the lad was not in the room when the suggestion was spoken.

“Oh Lady Grandmother,” cried Matilda wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. “I’d pay good money to see that!” she told her with a grin.
“Perhaps Lady Fuin should take up writing comedy for the theatre while she recovers,” Nessa quipped making the nurse laugh again.
“Oh, I would definitely pay good money to see that,” the nurse replied laughter still in her voice.

There was a much-needed lull in the conversation that allowed the women to catch their breaths and compose themselves after a much needed moment of levity. After a while Fuin stated with some concern that she would forgo eating at the moment because she’s like to get to the recovery room with their assistance.

“Please don’t worry much about how you’ll get there, or if the movement will aggravate your wound,” Nessa was quick to reassure the elleth. “A decade or so before the War, a brilliant young Gondorian scholar thought of a simple, yet ingenious solution to the problem,” Nessa started to explain. “He mounted a pair of wheels on a wooden chair so patients with limited mobility could be moved easily. The scholar’s designs were brought to my mentor’s attention by a librarian after the siege of Minas Tirith, and he had them made,” she said, the tone of her voice turning affectionate at the mention of Quintus de Scardena. “Granted, a wooden chair is not the most comfortable of things, but it will serve its purpose.”
“And we can even take the scenic route to the gardens,” the nurse remarked cheerfully. “I’ll go fetch it for you Revered Grandmother, so you can enjoy this novel experience of being moved around with regal dignity.”

Exchanging a look with Nessa, Matilda swiftly walked out of the room to fetch the wooden wheelchair so Fuin could be moved with ease to the recovery rooms.

“Please, eat some more,” Nessa told Fuin gesturing to the food. “The nuts and the salty crescent rolls… They will calm your upset stomach. Tea will help too,” she said as she got up from the cot. “I’ll tidy up a bit while we wait for Matilda, no sense for Grace to have to come in and clean twice.”


~*~



The birthing room with @Winddancer

Ioreth observed Liriel who was now comfortably settled in bed, holding both of her sons in her arms. The woman was exhausted from childbirth, brining a babe into the world was never an easy task, but there was joy on her face. Elation and wonder at holding two newborn babes, twins so alike it would be hard to distinguish them. The elderly healer smiled fondly at the mother as she noticed a tiny birthmark on the back of one of her son’s ears and reached out to touch the mark with shaky fingers.

As Matilda helped Liriel so the woman could start nursing her sons, Bryony started with the long process of cleaning and tidying up the birthing chamber after a birth. Meanwhile, Ioreth watched the mother with her newborn sons, reflecting on all the births she was present at, the children she helped bring into this world. Some births were smooth and successful like today’s one, others were not… The birthing bed was the woman’s battlefield, a battlefield that neither cared nor discriminated… All women thought the same battle for their survival, for the survival of their children… There was never any certainty that all will be well, there was always a risk when the woman took to the birthing chamber. Death, that old labour bent over a scythe, was always patiently waiting at the threshold.

Thankfully, Ioreth’s glooming thoughts were interrupted by a father’s booming voice who wanted to be let in. The elderly woman laughed at the eagerness of impatient husband and father and was just about to walk to the door and let him in when the door opened revealing Nessa and Liriel’s curly-haired husband.

“I found him in front of the door, pacing a hole in the floor,” Nessa teased gently while ushering the father into the birthing chamber and closing the door. “Decided it would be better to let him in, although you couldn’t have possibly finished getting the mother comfortable and the babes fed,” the young healer commented gently, although she did not mind the impatient father.

As the father walked over to his wife and twin boys, somewhat stunned to realise that his wife birthed twins this time, the nurses and healers gave the couple as much privacy as they could. Quietly, but efficiently they went about their duties, occasionally glancing at the couple to see if they needed assistance.


~*~



Study, NPC Quintus de Scardena to see the Master Healer @Pele Alarion

Quintus de Scardena exited the kitchen of the Houses of Healing carrying a tray with two earthenware mugs of steaming tea and a plate filled with pepper-honey biscuits shaped like stars and trees. Instead of his usual brisk and energetic pace characteristic for the tall, long-limbed healer, the grey-haired senior administrator walked in a more restrained pace. He was careful not to spill the tea or have the biscuits scatter all over the floor. There was a reason he paid a visit to the kitchen before heading to the study.

As he moved through the light and shadow of the arched passageways of the Houses of Healing, he was greeted and called out greetings to those he met. Despite receiving some curious glances at the tray with food and the direction he was heading to, nobody was surprised by the sight of the eccentric and unorthodox senior administrator carrying a plate of sweets and warm drinks with gravitas and seriousness he dedicated to all of his duties. He was equally amused and pleased by this, however, today his thoughts were focused on Pele Alarion, the Master Healer. She was the reason he was carrying a plate to the study.

Quintus was aware of Pele’s shoulder injury, the one she was struggling with before the King summoned the newly formed Ranges and sent them out on a mission with a strange outcome. The reports from the Ranger’s headquarters about the medical condition of rangers slowly, but surely trickled to the Houses of Healing. Although, neither he nor the Warden received any direct requests from the King to address the medical issues of certain stubborn rangers (and blood and iron they were a lot of them!) he knew sooner or later some sort of response from him or the Warden would be expected.

So if the mountain would not come to Quintus, Quintus would go to the mountain. Bearing gifts, of course, one did not go and make enquiries about the Master Healer’s medical issues without adequate preparations. Reaching the door to the study, he stopped to balance the tray and carefully opened the door. He entered the study, equally careful and managed to shut the door without incident of any kind. He grinned at his accomplishment and looked and glanced around the room.

When he saw her, sitting down comfortably in an armchair, feet propped up on the windowsill, Quintus made a valiant effort to suppress the laugh that threatened to bubble up to the surface. It wouldn’t do to spoil all his careful efforts after he had successfully delivered his offering to the study. His wife would be proud of him.

“Greetings Master Healer,” he called out to her, suppressed laughter in his voice. “It would seem that something is missing from your pile of supplies,” he noted amused his storm-grey eyes twinkling. “Would you accept an old man’s offering of more tea and pepper-honey biscuits? Perhaps even an exchange of words?”
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Ioreth the Healer
Ioreth the Healer
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Administrative building – Nessa and NPC Quintus de Scardena

Quintus de Scardena’s office was on the upper floor of the administrative building. It was a large and somewhat cluttered office with rows of shelves occupying an entire wall of the room. The content of the shelves was as eccentric as the holder of the office: books and scrolls shared shelf space with tins filled with various teas and spices. Bottles of various coloured inks sprawled across a shelf along with quills, parchment, wax tablets and styli. A pair of comfortable armchairs were arranged around a low table made of black lebethron wood. A massive desk made of the same material was situated near the window and chairs with two armchairs for visitors in front of it. Another, rather more impressive chair was located behind the desk.

The office faced the gardens of the Houses of Healing and the tall, lean senior administrator could frequently be seen standing by the windows. Usually deep in thought, searching for a solution for a problem that troubled him. He firmly believed that gazing and admiring the beauty and splendour of the gardens helped him with his work. Quintus de Scardena was known for his unorthodox and unusual ways, perhaps that was one of the reasons he was promoted to the post of the senior administrator.

However, today the administrator was not to be found musing by the window. He was sitting in his impressive chair concentrating on the content of the ledgers and papyri scrolls that covered almost the entire surface of the desk. His stormy grey eyes followed the words on the pages and from time to time he would carefully dip his quill in the ink bottle filled with blue-black registrar’s ink and make neat notes in an elegant shorthand.

His former apprentice sat in a very unladylike position, one leg tucked under the other, in a comfortable armchair on the other side of the room. A delicate porcelain teacup, with matching saucer, half-filled with tea stood on the low table next to her. She was rereading a long text, written on several sheets of paper, her lips moving as she quietly spoke the words written in her mentor’s familiar handwriting. Occasionally, she would tilt her head this way and that as she read something while twirling a ringlet of her chocolate-coloured hair that escaped the fishtail braid… Almost like she was testing how a sentence sounded. When she was not satisfied with a turn of a phrase, she would put the manuscript on the low table and reach out for the quill and red ink to mark it or cross it out completely.

She finished rereading the third revision of the proposal letter for the Queen her mentor had written and the red ink interventions were minimal. Putting the manuscript down on the low table, she straightened in the armchair, unfolded her limbs and stretched a bit. Nessa felt herself relax slightly as she reached for the porcelain teacup and slowly drank the rest of the lukewarm tea. She felt quite satisfied with the editorial work she had done and proud of her mentor who worked tirelessly on this project. She looked over to him, noticing that he was still sitting behind his desk, reviewing documents and making notes.

Nessa finished her tea and reunited the teacup with the saucer. She stood up and made a valiant effort to straighten the creases on her dim grey dress; it was not entirely a fruitless endeavour. Smiling slightly she closed the ink bottle and returned it and the quill she used to its place on the shelves it occupied. Returning she reached out and picked up the manuscript and walked over to her mentor’s desk.

“I finished revising your manuscript,” she told Quintus who looked up from his work when she started speaking. “Where should I put this? Your desk is rather cluttered, senior administrator,” she commented with a smile.
“Ah, thank you, my dear. Put it on that ledger,” he replied gesturing to the accounting book. “Your help with this matter has been invaluable. You have a knack for these things.”
“Thank you, Quintus. You are most kind,” she told him still feeling strange for addressing her former mentor by his first name.

A respectful knock at the door interrupted their conversation and they both turned to it as Quintus called out, giving the visitor permission to enter. They were slightly surprised to see Ralph standing at the threshold, smiling fondly when he saw she was there.

“Forgive the intrusion administrator de Scardena, mistress de Argosy, or is it mistress Ringhûn these days?” Ralph greeted them, making Quintus chuckle slightly.
“Legally I am de Argosy-Ringhûn,” she told the receptionist after a moment, a smiling slightly showing the man that she was not offended, merely confused by the comment. “But I realise my family name is rather unusual and long… Is someone looking for me?”
“Yes, mistress,” the receptionist replied with an amused smile. “A helpless fool who worked himself too hard.”

For a moment she was confused, not fully comprehending what Ralph said… But at the same moment as Quintus started laughing merrily, she realised exactly who was looking for her. A radiant smile lit her face as a wave of emotions overflowed her; boundless love for her husband, joy that he was here, elation that he came to see her… Worry, unwished-for, concern and fear that something happened to her beloved followed soon after. She was aware of Turin’s habit of making light of his injuries, especially when it came to her, for he did not wish her to worry.

“He’s not injured mistress,” the receptionist rushed to reassure her, seeing and recognising her concern for a loved one on her face. “Slightly worse for wear, but uninjured.”
“Go see your husband, my dear,” Quintus told her, laughter still in his voice. “Otherwise, I fear you will wear a hole in the rug.”
“Thank you, Quintus,” she told her former mentor with a small smile, her cheeks flushed. “And thank you, Ralph,” she turned to the receptions who nodded and gave her a kind smile. “For coming here, in person, to let me know. Thank you, you are very kind. I’ll take my leave of you both,” she finished, nodding to both men who smiled at her fondly. She exited Quintus’ office and hurried to the reception to see her husband.


Reception – Nessa with @Turin Ringhûn

Nessa was flushed and slightly out of breath when she arrived at the reception, aware that she jogged more than walked in her rush to see Turin. Despite Ralph telling her Turin was uninjured, she could not stop the anxious feeling gnawing at her. He was injured in his last mission with the Rangers, he received a bad blow to the head and still had no memory of what exactly happened. Pele had given explicit orders that he was to rest until he recovered, but she knew her husband. He probably spent the whole morning on the training ground running himself ragged.

She saw him sitting in one of the chairs by the wall, his legs stretched in front of him, the bag with his training equipment next to him. She glanced at him as she walked over (mud-stained trousers and boots, shirt damp with sweat) told her what she already suspected.

“Ignoring orders are you now Ranger?” she said teasingly as she came close. He looked at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a playful smile on his lips, as he rose from the chair to greet her.
“Just trying to catch the eye of a beautiful healer,” he replied in the same manner, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her close to him. Instinctively, she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, smiling at his antics. “I cannot get the lady healer out of my mind, she holds my heart,” he said smiling and leaned in for a tender kiss.

She relaxed in his arms, enjoying the feel of his lips on hers, the closeness of him… Laying down her burdens for a moment, as his kiss chased away her fears, his very presence reassuring her that he was here, hale and hearty. They broke away and he leaned his forehead on hers, a soft smile on both of their faces.

“Let me have look at you…” she said quietly, breaking the silence and the comfort of their embrace. She moved her arms from his neck and moved slightly so she could look at him, observe his reactions, to reassure herself that he was alright.
“I am fine, meldanya,” he replied still holding her in his arms. “Nothing is wrong, I simply wished to see you.”
“You wished to see me…” she repeated looking at him and smiled amusedly and sweetly. “You came all the way from the training grounds to the 6th circle, passed our house,” she stressed raising an eyebrow. “Not stopping there to leave your training gear, or freshen up or change your clothes… Simply because you had an urge to see me.”
“Yes,” he told her simply and leaned in for another kiss. She allowed him to capture her lips with his, her arms grasping his shoulders to anchor herself to him. Her whole body softened in his arms, her kiss a prayer of gratitude for the boundless gift of his love. Soon, always too soon, their kiss ended and her husband held her tightly in his arms, his love for her breathless.
“If I’m going to be disobeying orders of light recovery,” he said huskily, his hands moving to her lower back, rubbing small circles that made her shiver with pleasure. “Then I should at least be checked out, and the instruments of my disobedience can be reviewed too,” he said tilting his head toward the bag, with a roughish smile. “You and Pele will be most pleased to know I did refrain from actual weapon training.”

Her hands were still on his shoulders, so she used them to support herself as she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a quick, fleeting kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Good,” she said her hands moving from his shoulders and searching his. “Come, I’ll have a look at you in the treatment room,” she said firmly, not giving him wiggle room. “If nothing else you can wash up and I’ll try to find you a clean tunic.”

OOC: ((Apologies for the double post, this scene just didn't fit thematically with the other writing, so I made an editorial decision to post it separately.))
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Ancalagon
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Liriel and Eradan

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Eradan made a beeline to his wife, gasping as he saw there was not one, but two babes in Liriel's arms. Liriel looked up at the love of her life and saw his expression and chuckled. "Exactly what I thought!" She said to him. One of the boys had tired out and had fallen asleep at her breast, the other had been stirred by her chuckle and was suckling with renewed effort.

"How? What? Are they.."

"Both boys." Liriel said, interupting him. Still gaping he carefully leaned in, looking at each in turn.

"They look so alike.." he said with mild concern in his voice that garnered another soft chuckle from Liriel. "I said much the same, though look behind this one's ear.." she said as she motioned to the one on the left. "A tiny birthmark, I am sure that will be a saving grace for telling them apart."

Eradan blinked the tears from his eyes and leaned in to kiss her gently, leaning his head against hers as they both looked down at the boys who were now both asleep.

"Both boys, you say?" He asked as he gently touched one of the babes heads.

"Both boys." She said with a laugh.

"Well, we will just have to keep trying for a girl then.." he said with a mischievous grin, kissing his wife on her temple and then leaning in to kiss both of the babes.

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Pele w/Afird @Drifa
Reception

"My good Dwarf, your pack was right there," Pele chuckled and let him take it from her as she did not wish to carry it for much longer than necessary. "I hoped you had not gone too far yet, so came looking for you. I am glad that you are feeling much better --"

There was a loud complaint from Afird's stomach, and Pele could not help but laugh at it. "I am sorry that you did not get as much food as you would have wanted," she said. "You were sick, so I thought it would do well to take it slowly and not overburden your belly."

She thought a bit about where to direct the Dwarf for food and work, and then replied: "There are several inns and pubs where I'm sure you would get a nice meal for reasonable moneys. And I wouldn't know much about finding a work, but you could look in the marketplace and see if you can join someone, or - perhaps even set up a place of your own?"

~~~~~~~~~~~
With Ann @Ankala Teaweed
Garden to Healers Quarters


"Ah, it was definitely before war that we saw each other," Pele responded as they walked. "I was not here to participate in the war or any events right after..." She looked away to make sure Ann would not notice how she felt about it. While she had been away for reasons beyond her control and was struggling to survive, she still felt guilty that she had not been able to do her part in defending the city, and was sad that she missed all the wonderful things that had happened after that.

Pele was happy though that Ann continued on to begin recounting her adventures, and she gladly followed along, focusing on all the details Ann had to share.

"It sounds like your mother has made sure to give you very useful information," the healer interjected, as they entered the Houses. "Perhaps you should consider joining us here to continue working on that? Unless you mean to travel more and look for more spiders, that is."

While Pele had heard of the large spiders, she had never seen them, nor wished to. She had no problems with evicting the smaller kind from her room, but having to deal with huge, dangerous ones was a whole different matter.

She pushed open the door and led the way to the storage facilities to unload the treasures Ann had collected in her travels. "Here," she said, setting down the bag. "I will go and find something edible and a bit of tea, then we can make a detailed list of everything you have brought, and then I will want to hear all about those spiders."


~~~~~~~~~~
With Quintus de Scardena @A Good Wife
Study


Pele had stopped reading and looked out the window, as she let her thoughts roam unchecked for a few moments, when she heard the door open. She was feeling too comfortable and did not wish to move to see who it was, but then again there was almost no need for it. The sound of approaching footsteps was soon accompanied by the familiar voice of Quintus.

"I am sure the particular old man has some reason for bringing the said offering," Pele responded, smiling at the window as she breathed in the delicious scent of fresh tea and biscuits. She was certain that the man had some serious business to discuss, no matter how jovial he sounded, and she was suspicious of it, but it was difficult to be upset with someone who had brought the thing she had secretly longed for at the right moment.

"I can accommodate the exchange of words, unless you want to involve me in a fundraising event for the Houses and make me dance through the city streets for the purpose," Pele said with a laugh, as she carefully left her comfortable position. Her blue eyes briefly made contact with Quintus' grey ones, and then she set all her supplies from the other chair on the desk, so that they could both sit down.

"I am ready for a conversation," Pele declared, snatching a biscuit and sitting back down in the armchair, this time facing away from the window and observing the senior administrator with some curiosity.
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

Éowyn
Éowyn
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She had pondered on finding a place to freshen up and a stable for her horse, but her curiousity had gotten the better of her. So it was that she led her horse up through the circles of Mundburg and finally found herself in front of the Houses of Healing. She looked around for a place to tie Lynet and settled on what looked like a hitching post to her eyes at least. In the Rohirric tongue she promised to find a good stable for the horse later and dug out a few carrots to keep her busy.

The reception
Amadhrill entered the Houses of healing with eager, curious eyes darting around to take it all in at once. Her cloak was dusty and stained from the travel, but the green cavalry tunic and breeches underneath were clean as were her hands and face for she had found a place to do a quick wash before entering Mundburg. Even the cavalry insignia shone proudly on her breast.

She took a moment to take in the room, letting her green eyes adjust to the inside. Her eyes glittered with excitement at the room, how different from the infirmaries of the cavalry. And it seemed to be only the first room, she marvelled at books in the shelves, for a moment she forgot herself and stepped towards the book. Then she noticed the people around her, a dwarf speaking to a Gondorian.

It took her but the blink of an eye to catch her breath as she recognized the Gondorian as the ranger she had spoken with about Eldrith. Her cheeks colored slightly at the memory, she was not quite convienced about how her words had come across. She pushed a nail into her hand, but consious of it, she relaxed her hands and face. The glitter in her eyes did not reappear, and her face settled into that neutral but friendly apperance of a hælend, a healer of the cavalry.

She approached the receptionists and spoke the words she had practised in the Common Tongue, trying not to stumble with the words strange to her. "Good day. I am Amadhrill, hælend." "Healer" she corrected herself "healer of the cavalry of Rohan. I have been given leave of the cavalry to seek, request if I can perhaps train with the healers to bring new knowledge to the cavalry"
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Bealdorhælend

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Reception


Pele wasn't that sure at all that her suggestions helped Afird that much, but at any rate he seemed to have recovered sufficiently to resume whatever business he had in the city, apparently finding a place to work. She was trying to think of a few other options to offer him, but apparently the Dwarf might not be looking into some sort of a job at the Houses of Healing.

So it was that at first she did not pay much attention to Amadhrill's entrance, but overhearing her speak to the receptionist, Pele said to Afird: "Excuse me for a moment, if you will..."

Taking a few steps over to intervene, she nodded to the receptionist: "I will take this over, if I may." She looked at Ama with a somewhat sheepish smile, wondering if the woman remembered her foolish antics of throwing bread at contestants, and then rather by well-practiced habit offered her a fist-to-chest salute in response to the visitor's military bearing before she realised that she herself was not in a Ranger uniform.

"I am Pele Alarion, the Master Healer of the Houses of Healing," Pele duly introduced herself and continued with a somewhat formal welcome and greetings, though she found it hard to contain the curiosity and a sense of excitement. "Welcome to Minas Tirith and to the Houses of Healing. It is an honour to have you visit! Have you managed to settle somewhere yet after the lengthy road?"
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

Beorn
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Eril, in the Recovery Rooms with Tom and Nessa

The more he became conscious, the more he felt the pain surge back. It was not nearly as bad as before, thank the Powers, but it was enough to make him wince at the slightest movement. His breathing was shaky at best, but he didn’t feel that horrific tightness in his chest that he had felt before, before it had happened. He looked around the room, barely recognizing it. He was in the Houses of Healing, he reminded himself. The moments before he blacked out were still fuzzy, he remembered being angry, confused, and in pain, but the specifics escaped him. He remembered Tom had been injured and he had come to the Houses to see to him, he had been drinking. He had been drinking a lot. There was a sudden taste of bile in the back of his throat. His throat spasmed as though he was about to vomit. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes as tightly as he could. Breathe, just breathe through it, don’t vomit, just breathe, breathe.

The sensation passed and Eril opened his eyes again, strained tears leak down the corners of his eyes as he looked about again. Tom was there. He breathed a sigh of relief, a sigh so deep that he felt the bones in his spine pop. A weight lifted from his shoulders. He reached for the bottle of alcohol. Not to drink it but to fling it away. When he didn’t find it, he smiled and even forced out a chuckle. The task of ridding him of the alcohol had been done by someone else. Good. He didn’t need that temptation. He was done with it. Done. He couldn’t believe that a few hours ago (or days, how long had he been unconscious?) he couldn’t even remember he had a son, a son he dearly loved and cherished. He smiled (and winced) as the boy jumped on his bed and began to recount what had happened. It pained Eril that his son had had to see what happened to him while he himself had no real memory of it. It was unfair that his child should have to be saddled with such a horrific memory but he, the perpetrator of the event itself, was free. Justice was a funny thing.

He heard another voice beside him. It was a woman’s voice. He squinted, racking his brain, trying to remember what had happened to him before he blacked out, but nothing was forthcoming. She was likely the woman that saved his life though. He turned toward her and blinked owlishly. She was the woman in his dream. What? He squinted and rubbed his eyes. That can’t be right. His brow furrowed in confusion. It was her, the woman in his dream that suggested he do something different, or at least the image of her that was in his mind.

“Mistress Nessa, is it?” his voice was phlegmy and thick. How long had he been out? “I am starting to wrack up debts here at the Houses of Healing, it would seem.” He smiled, weakly. His humor had never been great, and he hadn’t exactly been practicing for it. “Thank you.” He finally said.

Accepting her offer of help, Eril sat up with some effort. He suppressed a groan of pain as feeling and sensation flooded back into his limbs. Stars filled his vision, tiny flecks of shaded light. “Some water would be nice. How long have I been out?” He gulped, pushing his nerves down at the same time. “I have something to ask of you, Mistress Nessa. I do have a great debt to pay to you and the House of Healing, and an apology for my… behavior,” his face reddened a bit. “I would like to make it up to you. Do… do you have any work around here you think I would be qualified for?”
My heart is pure but my church is black

Éowyn
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Reception

«I will take this over, if I may» Ama turned to the voice behind her, looking at @Pele Alarion and her somewhat sheepish smile and the Ranger salute. Out of habit, Ama returned the salute with the cavalry salute with a confused look at the woman who definately did not wear a uniform. Maybe she was no longer a ranger? Or perhaps the Ranger Hælends did not wear Ranger uniforms?

«Westu hælend hál!» She answered the formal greeting, forgetting herself for a moment and blushing as she realised her switch back to her native tongue. «Greetings, Master Healer. I am Amadhrill, Ama, hælend, healer of the cavalry"

She clenched her hands, frustrated with how the words came out in her native tongue. Then she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Why was she even nervous for this? She had the leave of the first marshal of Rohan and after all, the Gondorians and the Rohirrim were allies. Her words came slower and calmer, carefully pronounced though with a Rorric accent. "It is an honour to meet you. And I thank you for your kind welcome, Master Healer.»

Again she blushed slightly, then laughed a little, her merry disposition shining through. «No, I have not found a place to settle yet, I must admit I came straight here out of curiosity and also because I am not familar with your city so I did not know how far I would have to walk to come here.»

She hesitated for a little, unsure as to whether the hælend of Gondor remembered her. «Mundburg, Minas Tirith, is much larger then Edoras, as I think you know. I think we have met, in Rohan...» her face grew graver. «I asked you about a friend of mine, Eldrith. And I hope I did not offend you in any way with my words then... But I was under the impression that you were a Ranger, but perhaps I am mistaking you for someone else?»
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Ilmarë
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Tarawen, Recovery Room and Gardens

A sound like “hmph!” elicited a raised eyebrow from the ranger. Tara had just opened her mouth to say something when Maenion moved and murmured her name. She shut her mouth in an instant, regretting even the impulse to say something rude with her brother in this state, and so near. She had a feeling she would be biting her tongue quite a bit in the future.

Tara nodded in assent to Enara's request to be left alone with her husband. “Of course.” As his wife, Enara was entitled to time and space to process her husband's condition on her own. And Tarawen felt something like relief flood through her as she exited the room, ready to escape from the icy stares and sharp rebukes. The children had preceded her out of the room at their mother’s command, and Tarawen turned to follow them, but not before giving Enara a small and inscrutable smile.

She shut the door softly behind her and walked away without a clear purpose in mind. Perhaps she would return to her room and rest, or venture into the city to see what she might make of this place that had once been and now would be home. She had an abundance of time, presuming that Maenion’s recovery took a good turn.


The halls were quiet. On her way to her room, Tara noticed Maegon and Findis waiting for their mother in the garden. “Perhaps,” she thought, “they will be warmer away from their mother’s frigid influence.”

She stepped into the lush garden and inhaled the scent of herbs and flowers. A tickling sensation grew in her nose, and she sneezed. The inelegant sound broke the stillness of the gardens; she smiled sheepishly at her niece and nephew, then approached the two of them. “It’s been too long since I’ve been in these gardens,” she began. “I’m no longer used to the plants here.” Hands behind her back, she scuffed a worn boot along the edge of the path to push some stray soil back into the plant beds. The gesture was remarkable only for its awkwardness. “It's wonderful to meet you both,” she said. She did not expect the sentiment to be reciprocated, but she felt it important to say nonetheless. “I’ve missed my brother very much, and it makes me happy to see that he has had family by his side through this illness.”
she/her | ♫ I’m not mean, I’m a thousand years old and I just lost track of my moral code ♫

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Treatment room to the Recovery room – with Nessa@A Good Wife and NPC Matilda

"Honestly." Fuin said in mock indignation as she was told to eat more because they were getting a wheeled chair to move her. "If you'd just mentioned you had one of those contraptions we could have sent Fred for it. The poor thing still might faint but at least he wouldn't drop me while he was going down." With that she took some more of the nuts and happily ate them. A smile on her face as she waited patiently.

"Perhaps its a good thing Matilda is out getting the chair, she'd have gone and actually gotten the poor boy if she heard that." Fuin said with a chuckle, "And the poor thing might have actually gone red and died from blood loss from an internal bleed then, it would be quite tragic. Perhaps I should right that while I'm recovering." She sat and nibbled a few more nuts happy for the food in her stomach as she waited patiently watching Nessa clean. It was something she normally would do herself as a healer since Grace had already come and cleaned the room once. She had to stop herself several times from going into cleaning mode watching Nessa tidy, busying herself with several crescent rolls in fairly swift succession. Though not so fast as to upset her stomach she did concentrate on them quite thoroughly though. She was going to absolutely drive this poor Fred crazy probably turn it into a play. Minas Tirith had a few stages in those circles that she could submit such a comedy to and she had no doubt it would be quite hilarious and well taken given that the Queen was an elf.

She had every intention though of spending a goodly amount of time once she was more mobile on her own power in the garden areas. Those were always her favourites. She might even bribe poor Fred into getting her some painting supplies so that she might document the herbs and healing methods of Gondor in the fourth age for the elven healing library after all it wasn't too terribly often that a healer got wind of such things. She'd also very likely take a good look at this wheeled chair, it might be useful for elves as well after all.

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Pele with @Amadhrill
Reception


"Westu Amadhrill hal!" Pele answered the greeting as best as she could, while her Rohirric was not too good, she had a good grasp on a few necessary phrases and could understand much of what was spoken. Perhaps it was a benefit of having relatives in Rohan.

Her blue eyes retained the smile, as she adjusted to a slightly more serious tone Ama was setting while listening to her words intently. "Ah, it is likely that you might have spoken with one of my comrades, perhaps Arnyn or Karis. While I was in Edoras at the same time, I don't think we spoke, so I am not aware of any offences you might have committed..." she paused for a while, considering what and how to say. "I did throw a loaf of bread at your friend in Campian, though I meant no evil... Was overcome by the passion of the moment and have regretted it since whenever I remember it. I sort of hid right after the event because I was embarrassed and..." At any rate, she had not been hiding well enough to avoid the attacker who stabbed her. She shrugged as if to shake off the bad memories.

"But I am indeed a Ranger, hence my salute - it has become such a habit to react that way to a uniform," she slightly changed the topic. "I do not wear my uniform while working at the Houses of Healing, as I am fully engaged only in healing here. Uniform is reserved for work with the Rangers."

"Yes, Minas Tirith can be overwhelmingly huge and may seem rather suffocating with all the people and houses, and such. It is not all stone though," Pele began to lead the way to the door opening towards the garden as she spoke. "Let us take a walk in the garden while we discuss the matters further. I did not expect your arrival, so I would like to hear what your expectations and interests are, how long you would stay, and how we can help you to achieve the goals you came here with."
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

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Ann Kalagon with Pele Alarion
entering the Healer quarters: storage

The view over the southward wall from the Houses of Healing gardens was breathtaking. Ann Kalagon was a little astonished, truth be told, to find herself back in Minas Tirith after so long—despite the fact she’d journeyed months to do just that. Pele led them toward the doors, and Ann sniffed again the smells from the garden while she spoke of her mother, Rose, teaching her recipes of her honey herbal tincture recipes, before being interrupted by a spider attack. Pele spoke then and noted Rose’s knowledge, and then she asked if Ann had interest in joining the Houses?

"Did I hear that right? She asked if I would like to work with herbs?" Ann was taken by surprise, paused to breathe in again the smells of the flowers in the patch to their left.

Join the Houses of Healing to work with herbs? Really? She blinked and tilted her head and said, “To tell the truth, I have no clear plans—other than thinking of looking for something different—I mean—?” She broke off for a moment.

I do find I enjoy the work, though I have much more to learn.” She paused while they walked through the doors and down a hallway to a separate wing from the treatment rooms.

Entering a room with shelving and cabinets and a fine smell, Pele set down the saddlebag and said the golden words: “I will go and find something edible and a bit of tea.” Ann barely registered her old friend saying something next about a list of her precious haul and hearing about the spiders. She set down the saddlebag which she would open first. She was tired enough that she needed to go through it all in order of its provenance. Food and hot tea would help.

The former Hyandaner sat in a good wooden chair and leaned back, happy for the comfort after her recent time on the road. She wasn’t sure where she would be staying this evening, but it felt good to relax. She opened the near saddlebag, the contents so full they threatened to spill out, and she removed a fat cloth bag from the top of the kit. The bundle from her mother Rose, from the village, reflecting all the knowledge of the woodsmen, and what Rose had learned at times from the woodland elves and from her Beorning cousins would be the first parcel to unwrap and detail.
fka Ann Kalagon, Hyandaner

Mae Govannen, my friends!

Éowyn
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Reception and Gardens with @Pele Alarion

She breathed out, relieved and a little surprised to be greeted in her own tongue so far away. Upon understanding that she had indeed mistaken Pele for one of her comrades, she was about to appologize, but was saved by the master healer changing the topic. She was surprized to hear that the Houses of Healing were not part of the Rangers work, so used was she to the hælends of Rohan mostly being a part of the cavalry, or former cavalry hælends.

«So the healers here are not part of the Rangers, then? Or do not have to?» Her words were curious, of course there were wise men and women, healers who were not part of the cavalry, but most of them had served in the cavalry at one point or ended up there. Ama pushed a golden lock of hair away from her face and back under the head scarf she usually wore, to keep her hair out of the way and her head from sun burns or cold.

She followed Pele's steps and walked out of the door into the garden. There the hælend from Rohan stopped dead, her green eyes glittering with delight and excitement at the sight. There, high up on the higher circles of Minas Tirith lay a beautiful garden. The smells made her close her eyes for a moment and breath it all in with a content and happy smile. Then her attention returned to Pele, the eyes glittering still with delight. «We do not have anything like this in Rohan, but that you know already, I guess.»

Again Ama took a deep breath, taking her time to formulate the words in the common tongue, letting her eyes seek comfort in the sight of the familiar and unfamiliar herbs and plants. Even as she spoke her mind saved the sight of the garden for inspiration of her own small garden. «I hope I did not come at an inconvenient time, Master Healer, my decision to seek a leave of absence from the cavalry to come here was a long process, but once I was granted leave I traveled shortly after and I must say I did not think to send word. I must return for the spring rounds, though that is still some moons from now»

«I do not presume that just because I show up at your door step you will take me in, so to speak. Though I hope that I may learn a little of your knowledge both in herbs and treatments. I have heard the praises of the healers of Gondor spoken in the cavalry and among my patients.» She hesitated, bent down and picked a leaf from a herb unknown to her, looked closely at it while blinking a little to much to keep the tears that threatened to well up. She had not only come to seek knowledge from the healers, but also to return to face old memories «I have visited your lands twice when I was but a young hælend in the cavalry and neither was a happy visit, so it has taken many years to even consider a return here, and once I made the decision I found it best to travel as swift as I could.»

She raised her head again and smiled at the Master Healer. «If I may be so bold, my goal here, as a hælend is to seek whatever knowledge I can from your knowledge. If I am permitted to follow along, assist where I may be of assistance and learn what I may from the healers here in Gondor. And, perhaps.» She smiled at the garden around her. «Perhaps I may bring along some seeds of the hardier plants when I return to Rohan, along with new knowledge.»
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Pele with Ann @Ankala Teaweed
Healer Quarters - Storage


Pele could not help but chuckle softly at Ann's surprise when offered to work with the herbs. Leaving her friend to think of it, she headed out to the kitchens in search of something edible. Soon enough she had provisions enough to feed both of them, mainly consisting of fresh bread, butter, cheese and ham, as well as some apples and biscuits. Thus Pele returned to the storage room with a basket of food in one hand and a teapot with steaming tea in the other.

"Here!" she said, setting the provisions down on the table next to Ann's bags and then stepping out quickly to fetch two cups from the room next door. "Some food and tea should sate the worst of your hunger, I figure. The hot meal was not ready yet, though, so bread and such..."

"Well, as for a possible work with herbs at the Houses," Pele returned to the previous subject, as she set the food out on the table, put aside the basket and poured some tea in the cups. "It is not like I want to force you into it. I just think that if you take interest in herbs, it might be something for you to consider. No?" She snatched up a little bit of cheese and munched on it slowly as she savoured it.

She then gathered some writing utensils to be able to take note of the supplies her friend had brought, and then settled down on the other side of the table, pulling one of the tea cups closer to be within easy reach. "Right. I'm ready when you are, though maybe you should eat something before that unless you can manage to do both eating and unpacking successfully at the same time."


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Pele with @Amadhrill
Gardens


"Ah, most of our healers only focus on various areas of healing," Pele explained as she took a few leisurely steps along the path to reach the apple tree and run a hand along the branch that was reaching down over the path. The tree would need some shaping. "The Ranger healers must be as skilled in handling of weapons, and only few can find ways to reconcile the aspects of inflicting the wounds and healing the same."

Turning away from the tree to look at Ama again with a smile, she noted: "The gardens are great for growing herbs, and for patients to take walks among the trees as they recover, or... for healers to hide away to have a few moments of rest." Pele had found that it was no longer easy for her to hide in the garden when people at the Houses knew that she was around - they'd figured out most of her hiding spots. "I figure it would not be easy to fit something like this in Edoras, but maybe infirmary can have a bit of land to grow the most necessary plants."

"Don't feel bad for arriving just like that, Ama - may I call you Ama?" Pele's blue eyes smiled, as she remembered the shortened name Amadhrill had given during their short introduction. "As long as you do not produce convincing evidence of some reasons why we should not accept you, I don't know why we should not. You have travelled far and..."

The healer could see that Ama was struggling to keep her emotions in check, but she decided that this was not the time to pry for more detail of why the previous experiences had not been good; the Rohir would speak of it if and when she saw fit.

"I hope this time will turn out differently for you," Pele said by means of encouragement. "At least I'll do what I can to make it so. I will also notify the other healers about your presence, and there shouldn't be a problem for you to join any of them to learn what you can, at any rate feel free to join me around here - or when visiting patients in the Pelennor Fields or perhaps nearby villages. I wouldn't mind in the least." A firm nod served as a confirmation that she meant the words. "Taking a collection of seeds back with you should not cause issues either... At any rate, it seems that you have sufficient time to learn all you can about our treatment methods and plants. And perhaps even fit in building new impressions instead of unpleasant ones."

Realising that her many words might just be too many and overwhelm Ama, Pele laughed softly at her own silliness and said apologetically: "Don't mind me, I usually don't talk this much."
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

Éowyn
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Garden with @Pele Alarion

Ama nodded gravely at Peles description of the hælends of the rangers. It was well spoken and very true. Softly she added " And to go on fighting when you want to heal the wounded and you see that you can save them now but not when the battle is over.... or remain behind with the wounded and hear only the sounds of battle and await who knows what..."

She made a mental note to speak with the Bealdorhælend of this at home, though the time now was more peaceful, she had left the cavalry once because it grew too hard. She smiled, determined not to go down that road. "It is a calling I believe, to serve as a millitary healer."

Ama chuckled merrily at Peles words of hiding. "Neither the garden of the hælends, healers of the cavalry" she corrected herself "Nor my own garden gives much room for hiding, it is too well known that I am to be found there."

She laughed, the first awquardness and nerves for meeting someone she admired so much having left her. "Please call me Ama." She smiled, she felt more at ease with the nickname that had been given her when she first arrived in Edoras and everyone found her oldfashion name of the Eastmark too long.

"Thank you." She felt the encouragement of Pele. "This time I come not dressed for battle" (or prepared for widowhood) she added internally. Then the glitter returned to her eyes "You are very kind for your offer. And I will take you up on them. I have not seen much of this country, but it is spoken highly of among those who have travelled."

She gathered her thoughts for a moment. "You say you all have your own specialities, what specialities are those?"
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Pele with @Amadhrill
Garden


"Aye..." the dilemma of being a healer on battlefield was only too familiar to Pele. Even though during the last mission she had been more on the sidelines and not in the thick of things, it had still been difficult, as the fighting had been so intense that she had not been able to do much about helping the wounded until it was over, nor had she been allowed to join the battle as much as she wanted to. "It may be a calling. Or simply a madness of someone who can't decide between killing people and saving them," she added with a somewhat grim chuckle.

At a leisurely pace she took a few more steps along the path, letting the fresh breeze play with the stray strands of her hair, and then turned again to face Amadhrill. "If you can come up with anything shorter than Pele, you can call me by that shorter name," she burst out in a laugh. For one reason or another Pele had not even managed to earn a nickname to be called by, not even by the Rangers, and she could not decide whether that was good or bad.

"Gondor seems to have many faces - forests, blossoming fields, rivers and mountains," Pele said, somewhat dreamily as she considered that it would be good to get out of the city for a while. "I'm sure there'll be time enough to see some of that while you are here."

She thought of Ama's question on specialities for a while, and then attempted to explain it: "Well, some of the healers choose to focus mostly on plants and herbs, exploring their properties and uses. Others might choose to focus on surgical matters, while still others prefer midwifery." Pele's hand reached up to move a strand of hair out of her eye and back behind the ear. "I cannot say that I have chosen anything specific. I have been learning anything and everything I can that might be useful to keep the Rangers on their feet. Do you have some area that you are particularly interested in? It seems that you like plants at least."
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

Ancalagon
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Liriel, Eradan and the 2 babes

The last hour had been a blur. Liriel had barely taken note as she was moved to a recovery room and checked once more to make sure there was no bleeding before the couple were left alone with their new babes.

"Just as handsome as the other five.." Eradan said softly as he lovingly stroked back a lock of his wife's hair. Carefully and mindful of not disturbing any of them, he sat on the bed and pulled his wife in to a half hug as he looked down at his sleeping sons with tears in his eyes. Liriel gratefully leaned her head in against her husband, relieved that it was over and that both boys were healthy. Two. Not one, but two boys! She still could no believe there were two of them, even if the evidence was right there against her chest.

Her soft snoring alerted Eradan to the fact that Liriel had fallen asleep and he smiled, carefully stroking the boys' heads so as to not wake them. "So what shall we call you two?" He mused softly, his brows creasing as now they would have to come up with not one, but two names. As if hearing his father's question, the closest of the two boys opened his eyes and peered at his father bleerily before yawning and going back to sleep. Moments later the other babe did the exact same thing, leaving Eradan with his mouth open and wanting to tell his wife, but not wanting to wake her.


The Gardens
Maegon and Findis


If Tarawen was hoping to get empathy from Findis, she would be sorely disappointed. The young woman gave her aunt the most disgusted look as Tarawen sneezed. "Except for his beloved sister.." Findis' words dripped with venom as she stared down the older woman before stomping off to sit by herself on the other side of the gardens, about as far away from the other two as she could get.

"Uh.. don't mind her. She doesn't know any better.." Maegon looked up at Tarawen and gave her a huge apologetic smile. His bright brown eyes clearly shone with curiosity and not a small amount of wonder. He could barely believe he was finally meeting his aunt. Well step-aunt. He had already forgotten his sister, intent of making the most of the time that he now had alone with Tarawen, eagerly extending his hand towards a nearby bench.

"Please, let's go sit? I have so much I want to ask you!" Though only eleven, he sounded and acted far older than his actual age, only making his five years older sister come across as more immature. "Papa has told us so much about you!" He began as he clapped the stone bench invitingly. "He would tell stories of how you would go ranging and all the battles you have fought and how good you were with a sword." His eyes dropped from hers as he began looking for the famed sword he had heard so much about, unaware of the rift it had actually caused between the two siblings.

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Pele with Linaiwe
Garden - sometime between all other goings-on


The shadows among the trees grew darker, and the fresh breeze coming from the east seemed to grow somewhat colder as the sun was about to hide behind the mountains. Yet, it did not seem to bother Pele who had found a corner in the garden that she thought no one would find her in. It was a spot in the furthest reaches of the garden, rather out of the way and without a path leading directly to it.

Contented to have a few moments to herself after taking care of the needs of others, Pele had decided to work on the range of motion of her affected shoulder – while the injury had healed rather well and only a scar was left, the shoulder still felt rather stiff and not as useful as it should be.

Leaning forward, she let her right arm hang down freely and began to gently swing it forwards and backwards, then sideways and in circles. As she did this simple exercise, Pele felt her muscles relax as the tension that had gathered there during the busy day slowly dissipated. For a moment she even closed her eyes and listened to the wind rustling through the garden.

But such a relaxation lasted only a moment, as Pele then straightened up and moved to one of the trees, reaching up with her affected arm and leaning in until she felt a stretch in the back of the shoulder. Supplementing this with a few shoulder rolls, this time both of her shoulders, she reached for the sword she had brought.

She had been a bit careful after returning from the mission, and had not practiced that much, so this felt like she was returning to something familiar. A small smile played on her lips as the fingers of both her hands wrapped themselves tightly around the hilt. Slowly and deliberately, she brought the weapon up and behind her and then swung it downwards in an arc just to bring it up on the other side again.

Pele’s well-controlled movements were slow at first, and yet the more she practiced, the more she added in footwork, the more it looked like she was engaging in a dance of sorts, the sword seemingly becoming a part of her.

“Why is it that this Ranger thinks she can bring weapons into the garden of the Houses?” a voice suddenly interrupted the practice.

“And why is it that Linaiwe thinks she can keep haunting me?” Pele responded with a counterquestion without turning and then added: “I am not ready to revisit, nor will I ever be probably, so you might give up on following me around just as well.” She did not let the elderly healer’s presence stop her practice, though the grip on the sword hilt became tighter and the movements seemed somewhat swifter and sharper.

“Oh, but I am more than certain that you revisit those memories every day, probably several times a day,” Linaiwe did not relent, leaning back against the gnarled trunk of an oak and crossing her arms. The minute changes in Pele’s sword dance did not pass by unnoticed, though the healer did not comment on it. “Physically you look better and fitter, yet other areas of you should also be tended to. You may have escaped the outward captivity, yet you continue the same captivity inwardly.”

These were not the words Pele wished to hear, nor did she want to deal with the issue Linaiwe kept bringing up, yet in the depths of her heart she knew that the older healer was right. For a while longer she stubbornly kept working on her sword skills in silence, as if waiting for Linaiwe to leave, and yet when she finally lowered her weapon and turned around, she found herself face to face with the grey-haired woman who looked as if she had all the time in the world to wait for a stubborn Ranger to stop swinging the blade around.

“Well?” Pele half-grumbled, as she sheathed her sword, though she knew well enough that the healer would not just up and leave, no matter how icy a glare she would receive.

“Well?” Linaiwe returned, a slightly teasing glint in her eyes.
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

Éowyn
Éowyn
Points: 428 
Posts: 239
Joined: Fri May 15, 2020 3:48 pm
With @Pele Alarion
Garden


«Or that» She agreed with Pele's words about hælends, healers in the military. «Or a bit of both...»

Ama felt easy in Pele's company, something she was rather surprised at, then again they seemed to have a few things in common, their background in both healing and military felt like a common bond. When Pele offered her to come up with a shorter form of Pele, Ama declined with a merry laughter. «The only shorter form I can come up with is 'Pel', and that reminds me too much of the Eastmarker phrase for 'get lost', so I will call you Pele then.»

As Pele spoke of the faces, as she called them, of Gondor, Ama's green eyes glittered with the thought of adventure. It had taken her many years to brave the old memories, but the choice to leave the comfort of her homeland so far promised well. «All I have seen of this country, apart from the Road, fields, and villages I passed coming here, are battle fields and the first circles of Mundburg.» Then she corrected herself «Minas Tirith. So it is all an adventure.»

For a moment she allowed herself to think about Tommasar, realizing now how little she had known about him. Perhaps he had not even been from Mundburg, but hailing from some other exotic part of Gondor. Her train of thought was halted as Pele spoke about the specialities, and not having chosen one. «It was the herbs and their abilities to heal in many ways that led me into this business, my grandmother was the wise woman of the villages, the one who was called for when someone was ill, babies were about to be born, and all those sort of things. She thought me much... then I enlisted in the cavalry, to become a hælend, healer. And I trained there under a few bealdorhælends, that is master healers.»

In her mind she recalled the names of her former bealdorhælends and teachers fondly, gentle Fëawen who had thought her much of herbs and their uses, teaching her old songs and rhymes to remember their use. And Áfor, with his more surgical approach. «They trained me in the use of plants and some surgical matters. As you say of yourself, I have gathered what knowledge I can that will serve to keep the Cavalry riders riding, and the villagers farming their land I may add. I have spent more of my life outside of the cavalry then being a part of it, thought it does not always feel like that.»

She smiled, «My life as a hælend in short... I have come to learn from you what I may that will, as you say it, keep the Rangers on their feet, or in my case, keep the Riders on their horse. But it is true as you have noted, plants are a special interest of mine.»

«The Houses of Healings seem to offer many different paths, and from what I have heard you also work with matters of the head too... I have heard tales of your work with those who have experienced the dark side of a life in the Cavalry, or as a Ranger... with so many different paths, how do you teach all your hælends, healers all?»
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Bealdorhælend

Ilmarë
Ilmarë
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Tarawen
Gardens with Maegon and Findis


The words Findis spat at Tarawen hit her like physical barbs, and she was stunned into silence. The ranger flinched, almost imperceptibly, at the implication that she was somehow negligent or derelict in her duty as a sister. She had entered these gardens, this haven of her brother’s, hoping to stem the bitter tide of Enara’s ill will - with the children at the very least. Tara felt heat rising in her face, and she knew her cheeks must be visibly flushed. She hated that she could not wipe the emotion from her face at will. She had never mastered the art of neutralizing her expression, and it was too late to learn that particular skill now. And yet the expression she bore was not rage, or even anger, so much as frustrated regret. Stung as she was by Findis’ words, she knew there was some truth to them.

If there was one silver lining to this situation, it was that she could be certain beyond a doubt now that Enara bore her no affection. This attitude was reflected - and amplified - in the woman’s daughter, and her hopes of making something of this reconnection were almost dashed. Findis had no sooner marched off than a gentler voice spoke, soothing Tarawen’s frayed nerves and restoring to her some hope for the situation.

“Uh.. don't mind her. She doesn't know any better..”

Tara turned to face the younger of Enara’s children, and she returned his smile without hesitation. There was a warmth and inquisitive light in his eyes that she’d not seen in anyone’s expression for, well, years. Not since… But no, it would do no good to dwell on that particular chapter of her life just now. Her young nephew gestured that they should sit together on a bench beneath a sprawling tree. Tarawen’s smile widened, and she nodded her assent.

“Of course!” she said, beginning to recover her composure. What Enara and Findis lacked in affection, Maegon more than made up for with his enthusiasm as he patted the vacant seat next to him and spoke of all the stories about her that Maenion had told him. He had clearly awaited their meeting with much excitement. Tarawen’s smile faltered momentarily at the mention of her sword. That sword, which had split a rift between herself and her brother, was leaning at present against the bedside table in her room here at the Houses of Healing. There will be time, she thought, to show him, and tell him. Perhaps, one day, he’ll wield it himself. She settled into her place on the bench and stretched her legs before her. It was marvelous, she reflected, simply to sit in the sun.

“Well, I’m not sure what stories your papa has told you,” she replied with a smile. “But I could certainly tell you a tale or two, if you like.”
she/her | ♫ I’m not mean, I’m a thousand years old and I just lost track of my moral code ♫

Ancalagon
Ancalagon
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The Gardens
Maegon and Tarawen


It was not that Maegon did not care, he was just far too young to pick up on the shocked expression that his step-aunt's face displayed before she sat down beside him. Not that he could have offered her much in a way of consolation either. Empathy, sure. He had tons of that, especially as he lived with the two women that seemed to have taken an instant disliking to Maenion's long lost sister.

Shifting slightly in his seat so that he was turning towards Tarawen, he offered up a huge delighted smile at her offer of a story. Eyes shining brightly, he nodded vigorously "Oh yes please! Papa would always tell stories of you when we tended to the garden. Other stories too of course, but I always loved the ones about you and the sword!"

Closing his mouth Maegon blushed, feeling like he had gone a little too far with his enthusiasm. But even though he stayed quiet while waiting for Tarawen to begin, he had trouble sitting completely still as he fiddled with a broken off leaf. For a brief moment his eyes flitted towards his sister and then the doorway that led to where his mother and step-father were, a look of worry crossing his young face as if he would not get to hear the story before either his mother or his sister interupted.


Liriel, Eradan and the 2 babes

It was the small snort from one of the babes that woke Eradan first. Blinking he looked around to re-orient himself, briefly wondering where he was. When his eyes fell on his newborn sons his face burst into a smile, still amazed that they had two now and not just one. He had thought his wife had been slightly bigger this time around, but he was not stupid, he would never have told her that. Even when she herself complained about it and had to have several of her dresses altered.

Gently and lovingly he kissed her head, careful not to wake her. Then even more carefully he picked up the two babes and scooped them into his arms. Taking them over to the window that overlooked the gardens, he began to slowly rock them to stop their fussing. But the fussing continued and he could tell that they were only moments away from crying and waking their mother and so he began to sing like he had sung for every single one of their sons. His voice was soft and melodic and while he would never agree and often had a hard time accepting compliments, his voice far outmatched some of the most famous bards known in Gondor.

But however good his voice was, he would never sing in public other than when working in the fields, to entertain himself and his boys. It was only really his family that benefited from it, though all of them cherished the moments that Eradan would indulge them with his beautiful songs. Sung in Elvish, no one ever knew what he sang about, but that did not stop them from demanding to hear more. And so he stood by the window, the sun setting in the west as he softly sang a song to his two new sons who instantly stopped fussing.

Being a mother of 5 boys, you never really slept and when you did it was always with one ear perked and one eye open. Her husband scooping up the boys had of course woken her, but she had kept her eyes closed so that he would not feel guilty for having woken her, even though he hadn't. Once he had walked over to the window she opened her eyes and merely watched him, her heart filling with love for her husband as he began to sing the beautiful lullaby that he had sung for all the boys. Tears filled her eyes at the beauty of that special moment of him bonding with his sons, knowing how hard that could be for a man when there was not much he could do for the first few months. Her heart ached with how much love filled it, knowing just how precious that moment was for him and the boys.

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Pele with @Amadhrill
Gardens


"Well, no battle fields right under our nose at least, though there is still much work to do," Pele replied, though she did not let the thought of all the possible Ranger missions sneak into her mind. "At least you have come all the way to the sixth circle now, and perhaps caught a glimpse of all others you had to pass through to get here."

For a while her glance lingered at the inviting paths of the gardens, but she wondered whether it would be the best to lead the guest on and spend hours exploring all the corners. "I figure since you are interested in plants, Lossarnach would be a great place to visit, and maybe even Ithilien, though still have to be careful out there," she played with the possible plans of combining Amadhrill's interests and hers. "Though perhaps you'd rather see a bit of what we have inside of the Houses of Healing rather than spend the whole day out here in the gardens? Maybe we could even get something delicious from the kitchen. What do you say?" Sparks of merriment danced in Pele's blue eyes as she looked at Ama to see what would her choice be.

"It is not at all easy to train the healers; but all of them get the basics either from me or some other healer, and then, if they choose a specific path in healing, they continue further training with someone who is specialising in that area," Pele then explained their healer training. "I suppose, people could learn continuously if they wanted - there is so much to learn."

The Master Healer turned back towards the Houses, assuming that Ama might want to see more than the trees and plants. "Matters of the head... yes..." she said, then paused for a while as she considered her own struggles and Linaiwe's relentless effort in getting her to work through her own non-physical scarring left from the time of captivity. "Suppose that is a very important area, seeing that human life is like a field of roses... whenever you sit down, there are thorns under your bottom."
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

Éowyn
Éowyn
Points: 428 
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Joined: Fri May 15, 2020 3:48 pm
With @Pele Alarion
Garden


«I have caught small glimpses of all the circles, but the city is quite overwhelming to me.» Ama laughed softly at her own eagerness at arriving at her destination. She could be so very patient with her patients and with her children, but at other times she had no patience at all. At the mention of Ithilien, Amadhrill's green eyes glittered.

«Ithilien... That would be where the lady Éowyn and the lord Faramir dwell, is it not so? And the other place, Lossar...» she tried to wrap her tongue around the strange sounds, and she smiled appologeticialy. «Lossarnach... it would be very interesting to me to follow you and learn about the plants that grow here and there, perhaps you have plants that are more potent or can even heal that which we in Rohan cannot.»

Ama felt her mind work hard, filling up with endless posibilities and new adventures and knowledge waiting to be found. Maybe she could bring home seeds and try to grow them in the harsher climate of her own land, some would perhaps work in a sheltered sunny place, perhaps she could bring the plants inside during the colder winter months and so make them survive the winter. «Do the winters here bring snow and frost?»

Then she laughed, her thoughts had run away with her again, just as Pele mentioned the kitchen her stomach made a loud growl. «Kitchen sounds good, I have had weeks of dry foods and boiled oat and barley, such foods that are practical for travels...» again her laughter rang through the garden as she followed the Bealdorhælend, the master healer and listened attentively to how the hælends, healers were trained. «It is much the same as the training I have had in Rohan...»

She had brought up the matter of the heads, she had seen how nightmares and evil memories plagued veterans. There was a slight pause, a hesitation from the master healer at the topic. Ama's green eyes watched Pele closely, a hælend and a soldier, a ranger and a healer, with her own scars. Her eyes were graver now, Ama had her own scars, some made raw with the travel and others healed. She smiled gently, not knowing if Pele's remark about thorns whenever you sit was made a joke or how she found life.

Ama hesitated, weighing her words more carefully now. «That is one way to put it...» She was not ready to go down that road, it was neither time or place for such a conversation. Luckily her stomach growled again. «That kitchen sounds very tempting as a first stop, and perhaps you can tell me of a good stable for my horse too?»
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Bealdorhælend

Brewer
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Ann Kalagon with Pele Alarion
Healer quarters: storage

The former Hyandaner was not dressed in Ranger gear, though not too dissimilar was her kit with her leather gauntlets, belt and boots, all a dark shade of green. She had removed and laid her black-leather sheathed sword to lean on the wall next to the other saddle bag. Pele brought back a basket of food, and tea! Ann was more than glad to take time to eat some of the hot bread—which smelled very good—with cheese and ham, and the tea and the food relaxed her and settled her thoughts.

As she was about halfway through her plate and on a second cup of hot tea, Ann paused and turned to the first bundle, which was wrapped in a soft deerskin, and lifted it from the saddlebag. She loosened the leather thong about it and unrolled it half-way on the table to the side near Pele. Then between bites, she lined up several glass vials of differing sizes and shades of brown.

Pele, yes! I have become very interested in herbs and the gathering of herbs. This side mission brought me a good deal of satisfaction, and I believe it has helped me with some emotional healing as well. Well, I do have more to learn, and especially of preparation, but learning by doing is enjoyable. So, all these supplies were collected from various places along my travels. This first lot is from my mother Rose; she is the Alder village beekeeper. She makes tinctures with herbs and flowers found between Anduin and the Greenwood; she uses honey in the making, generally two parts honey to one part plant. They are potent but pleasant.”

She pointed at one end of the line-up and said, “This one is Hurin’s Wort tincture, good for upset of the emotions. She gets the yellow flowers when they first bloom—they rather glow in the light, very pretty—near the Anduin, and this one must be made fresh. She crushes the flower tops and immediately bottles them in the honey! You can make a tea, but Hurin’s Wort quickly loses its effect when it’s not fresh. So—2 vials of Hurin’s Wort tincture."

“This next is tincture of wintergreen. Rose makes a more dilute tincture of only the leaves, because wintergreen is quite strong. This is anti-inflammatory, and you put only a drop or two in a cup of tea. And, 2 vials of wintergreen tincture."

She pointed to the next few vials, these looped with twine. “This is Anduin primrose, a tincture of the flowers. I use it for sinuses and just recuperating after a hard day’s travel or,” and she looked at Pele, “after a battle or whatever. And it tastes nice. People drink the tea as a tonic.” There were 4 vials of this. Ann took a sip of her own tea, and waited while Pele made a note, then went on.

“This is a tincture of Greenwood fern, but they just call it woodfern. Tincture of woodfern is good in a limited course of time as a tonic, like 2 drops in the morning for 5 days, more or less.” She gently nudged the 2 vials over.

“Anduin marsh mallow is very, very strong—too much can thin the blood. Rose uses only two drops in a cup of water for muscular pain, or for headache. These 2 vials will last much longer than you might guess, as its dosage is very small.”

Next, Ann unrolled the deerskin wrapping further to reveal two long, thin shapes wrapped in a paper-like beeswax covering. She handed these to Pele and said, “These are bundles of primrose roots—good for respiratory, headache, cramps, and what was that Mother always says? oh yes, a sedative.” The root bundles had covered up a flat ceramic jar. “Ahh, Pele, here is some of Rose’s honey from Alder village—and as it is the older honey I carry, why don’t we open this and have some with this nice tea?

“And before I go on to Dale, where I went with my cousins, I will go on with the spiders.

“Yes, Mother had taken the cousins and me into the Greenwood, and she had been showing us where she gathers the certain few flowers she is able to use from within the forest. Rose was saying that she uses 1 part of that flower to 3 parts honey, and she makes it in a certain size vat, then bottles it after 4 months. You see, the forest is safer now than it was, but right then we heard a high-pitched noise, and something flew past my face and stuck on the tree in front of my face. We were under attack by some spawn of Mirkwood spiders. They were not full grown! Or it would have been worse, but there were many, and they were hungry—maybe not being far from the hatching.

“We were not unprepared to defend ourselves; we had a fire going, which was helpful. I killed a few; we each did, but it was difficult with them spitting their strings at us. Just as I began to worry we would be taken, we heard a horn blowing, and then elves came and finished the fighting. We were lucky they were near enough to help.

“Next, Pele, I have for you things from Dale, Dwarvish root medicines and more, and a special delivery from the Beornings.” She moved to put aside the leather wrap, but then felt a bump and unfolded the deerskin further.

“Oh yes, there is more! Tincture of athelas! This special athelas my mother received from an elleth of her acquaintance, when the elves had finished off those spiders. Honey tincture of athelas—4 vials!” Ann set them down with the others, smiled, and then she proceeded to refill her tea. Retrieving the ceramic jar of honey, Ann produced a slim finger-length dagger. She cut away layered coats of beeswax and pulled a stopper from the jar. The honey glistened in the light, thick in the cool air. A faint trace of roses wafted from it.

“Honey?” she asked Pele. Ann used the knife to lift a measure of honey into her tea, and she set the knife on a saucer by the teapot. Then she unrolled the deerskin to reveal more herbal treasure.

“And, there is this!” Ann said and unrolled another wrapped bundle of something that gave off a strong piney smell to reveal juniper twigs thick with berries. “Juniper berries. Good for arthritis, inflammation. Mother says that there are other healing properties for the bladder.” And she picked up her last slice of bread with cheese, while drawing out the next bundle from the saddle bag. This one was a hardened leather box, secured with twine—seemingly heavy as she lowered it to the table and set it down.

“Next batch: Dale! We have some Dwarvish roots here, Pele!”
fka Ann Kalagon, Hyandaner

Mae Govannen, my friends!

Counsellor of Gondor
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Pele with @Amadhrill
Heading to the kitchen and dining area


"Yes, indeed, Éowyn and Faramir have made Ithilien their home," Pele confirmed, "Though Ithilien covers much more land, mostly forests and foothills of the mountains, lots of good herbs too. I am not that sure whether I could managed to grant us audience with the lord and lady though..." Suppressed laughter danced in the healer's blue eyes, though she had half a mind to see if she could actually make this happen. At any rate, she could always claim she had some Ranger business or other to discuss with them.

"I do not have that much knowledge of what plants you have in the Mark," she let herself go along with the discussion on herbs and plants. "While I have made some observations on my travels, it has not been done on a very deep level. And no, our winters are mostly mild, though perhaps an occasional snow flake may show up; if we want proper snow we have to climb up the White Mountains - I doubt many people do that."

Pele could not help but chuckle softly at Ama's grumbling stomach; in fact, she would not mind some food herself, though she was not that hungry perhaps. "Well, let us go and see what can be procured; I'm sure there is some hot meal in the making that we could benefit from. After all, now that you are here, you should not eat travel food," she said, heading into the Houses.

"Ah, you know, Ama," she observed thoughtfully, a small smile playing on her lips, as she chose the most direct hallways to the kitchens. "Thorns are not necessarily bad - they keep us from becoming too comfortable and complacent, so we can keep growing and developing."

As they approached the kitchens, delicious aromas wafted through the half-opened door to assail them, and Pele found herself thinking that she might actually be more hungry than she previously thought.

"Come!" she urged Amadhrill, as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Is there some food in this kitchen that two hungry healers might get? One of them has travelled all the way from Rohan, no less, and has just arrived," she said to the cook, as she walked up to the stove and with a nearby towel lifted the lid to look into the pot.

"There is food, but healers should not come around and stick their noses in every pot they see," the cook retorted, hands on her hips. "Go on, Pele, lead your guest to the dining room and you'll get your food, or else I'll swat you with a wet dish rag if you insist on meddling in my business."

"All right, all right! I'm out of here," Pele laughed and waved for Ama to follow her into the adjacent room which was furnished with a couple of long tables and benches. Sitting down at the end of one table, she waited for Amadhrill to settle down and then addressed the matter of stables: "Well, the Old Guesthouse has a good stable, as well as rooms and food, but it is on the first circle. While that might not be very comfortable in terms of distance, I think they that is one of the best places. There are some higher up, more expensive, but not necessarily much better."

It seemed that only a few moments had gone by when they found themselves provided with food enough to last the whole day, it seemed: steaming stew, additional platter of meat, fresh bread, a selection of various biscuits and sweet rolls, and a pot of hot tea.

~~~~~
With Ann @Ankala Teaweed
Storage


Pele piled up a few layers of cheese and ham on top of a bun and proceeded to eat it with relish, as she decided it was best to eat while Ann did, else there would be much writing - as the bulky saddle bags promised - and no time to eat.

Pushing aside a plate with another bun for later, Pele prepared to take notes of all the provisions that Ann had brought. Used to writing quickly and efficiently, she made a list that would hold the most necessary information, though Pele paid attention to every little detail that did not make it into the writing.

"This is all so good and useful, Ann!" she exclaimed, taking yet another moment to dip the quill into the ink. "Though I would be so tempted to keep these things stored away as long as possible. But then again, what use is there of the medicines that are not applied for the purpose, right?"

The story of spiders made the shivers run down the healer's back, as she imagined having to deal with such creatures and their sticky nets. Getting the webs of the normal-sized spiders in the face while running through the woods was already unpleasant enough... "At least you had aid! I would not have been happy to receive news that you and your loved ones ended up as spider food."

When Ann opened the jar of honey, Pele breathed in the fragrant aroma with a contented look on her face. "Mmmm, this must be extraordinarily delicious," she murmured. And yet she resisted the temptation to attack the honey right away and first checked over the list.

"1) Hurin's Wort tincture - 2 vials - for upset of emotions
2) Wintergreen tincture - 2 vials - anti-inflammatory; 1-2 drops/cup
3) Anduin primrose tinture - 4 vials - sinuses, recovery
4) Greenwood fern tincture - 2 vials - tonic - 2 drops for 5 days
5) Anduin marsh mallow - 2 vials - muscular pain, headache - 2 drops/cup. !!!Too much will thin blood!!!
6) Primrose roots - 2 bundles - respiratory, headaches, cramps, sedative
7) Athelas tincture - 4 vials
8) Juniper berries (on twigs) - arthritis, inflammation, bladder"


Satisfied, she set the list aside, and dipped the spoon into the honey. First she set a rather plentiful amount of it on the remaining bun, and then another spoonful into her cup of tea.

"Is there any place on Middle Earth that you have not visited yet to harvest its best herbs?" Pele laughed, feasting on the honey-covered bun, when Ann informed her that there were Dwarvish roots, and then more items from Dale and the Beornings.
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

Éowyn
Éowyn
Points: 428 
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Joined: Fri May 15, 2020 3:48 pm
With @Pele Alarion
Heading to the kitchen and dining area


There was a glitter of laughter in Ama's green eyes mirroring the laughter in the blue eyes of the Gondorian healer. «We should send out a rumour, perhaps if the word spreads of a Gondorian healer and a hælend of Rohan riding coming to Ithilien will have the Lord and Lady send for us...»

She was eager to follow the Bealdorhælend, Master healer, her eyes trying to memorize the twists and turns to the kitchen, while also taking in all the unfamiliar sights and smells. The smell of food grew stronger as she pondered the comment about thorns. She could not make an answer to it as they came through the door and directly into the kitchen. As Pele drew attention to her recent travel, her face coloured slightly. And an even more so as the cook chased them out like naughty children. But she laughed as she sat down on the bench, letting out a pleased sigh.

«A pleasant change from the saddle and ground!» the Rohirim sighed, she had barely touched down on the bench when food was brought to the table. She eyed the food with genuine pleasure and curiosity, some of the food smelled and looked like what was served in her own lands, while others were different and strange. «I will try a bit of it all, it looks and smells very good.»

She smiled at the cook and thanked her. For a little she was silently enjoying the food, tasting the food. Then she smiled. «On my previous trips I did not have the opportunity to taste your local cusine properly, the first time we had war rations and the second time...» she hesitated «the second time I did not have the mind for food...»

She smiled and took a bite of the fresh bread. «I have been sitting too long on my pleasant seat, and now I have found it is time to try some of the thorns...» She laughed softly, though not without sadness. «The Old Guesthouse sounds like a promising place, and I do not mind walking and seeing the city by foot... I have come to Mundburg, Minas Tirth, not only to learn from the hælends, healers, but also to pay my respects at the graves of the King Theodén, my fallen comrades, and... my first husband.»

Ama reached into a pocket and drew out a small pouch, she opened the pouch and showed the small seeds in it. «You have visited my lands, and I think you may have seen the flowers called simbelmynë, evermind. It grows on the graves of our people and I have gathered seeds to spread them here. I do not know if they will thrive, but it is worth a try... And after that I am ready to follow where you propose.»
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Bealdorhælend

Ioreth the Healer
Ioreth the Healer
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Joined: Wed May 27, 2020 7:12 pm
Study, NPC Quintus de Scardena with the Master Healer @Pele Alarion

The Master Healer acknowledged his greeting and offering in quite a clever way, Quintus took note of that, the amusement and pleasure about the situation visible on his face. His storm-grey eyes softened, their colour shifting from cool to warm as he set down the tray with the tea and biscuits with extreme care. “Be a mirror,” he reminds himself as he discretely observes the Master Healer. “Be a mirror when you meet a knife; be a mirror when you meet a stone,” the sentence finished in his mind in Iskandar’s familiar voice; calm, low and strangely musical.

Quintus smiles at the memory of his friend, a healer and an ashik, and remembers the many conversations they had in the Houses of Healing and other places in Minas Tirith. Some even in this very study, as they went through medical books and discussed different approaches to medicine, various schools of thought, traditions, theories and practices. About the men and women who came before them and those that would come after them. Predecessors and successors.

Two healers born in different parts of Arda, trained and practised in different schools of thought and tradition, but still forming strong bonds of friendship, companionship and brotherhood. Like different trees in a forest whose roots and branches intertwine, grow stronger together by creating a complex ecosystem and preserving all life. Over two decades of friendship between the unorthodox Gondorian healer and the Samarkandi physician, an exile who found his new home in the White City and then left it almost a decade ago and went North, the farthest he had ever been from the city of his birth, to find a new one.

“I can accommodate the exchange of words, unless you want to involve me in a fundraising event for the Houses and make me dance through the city streets for the purpose,” Pele’s voice filled with laughter interrupts his meandering through the halls of poetry in his mind. He joins in her merriment, laughing as his mind provides the vivid image of the scene she described, filled with poetic humour. He shakes his head amused as he watches Pele move the books and writing implements from the chair to the desk so he can sit down.

“I am ready for a conversation,” the Master Healer formally declares after she snatched a pepper-honey biscuit shaped like a tree making Quintus laugh again as she made herself comfortable in the armchair and watched curiously. Still smiling he takes the earthenware mug filled with tea that is no longer steaming, but it’s still hot enough to warm them both while they speak and places it in next to the Master Healer. He takes the other mug in his hands and makes himself comfortable in the chair opposite her. He is silent for a moment as he guides the mug to his lips and takes a sip of tea, musing on the opening verse for this conversation.

Poetry is for the desperate, and for people who have grown old enough to have something to say,” he thinks as he slowly drinks his tea. He is certainly old enough to have something to say, not yet desperate… But the conversation he wants to have with the woman sitting opposite him needs to be a kind of poetry, contemplated and formulated in such a way that the conversation feels natural; springing forth from the ground like a seedling long planted now waking up and rising as it felt the call of the sun. Smoke and mirrors and refracted light, and the weight of history in a glance.

“I must confess,” he starts in earnest, deciding on an opening line. “That although the idea of dancing healers on the streets of Minas Tirith,” he speaks with the seriousness of a grandfatherly figure considering a scintillating idea a grandchild brought him. “Sounds like something that the people of our fair city would reward with large sums of money…” he pauses for dramatic effect, but the way his eyes light up and fill with unhidden laughter give him away. He notices the look on the Master Healer’s face and laughs merrily.

“Fear not, mistress Pele,” Quintus told her, although he can see that Pele realised he was teasing her and is chuckling along with him. “If the Queen and King accept my proposal regarding the funding of the Houses of Healing we will not have to worry about fundraising events,” there is hope in his voice as he thinks about the magnitude of his proposal, the paradigm shift it will cause. “From this barren soil will grow new flowers. They will be hard-won flowers – fragile petals well defended by our hands, with parasites beaten away, warmed by the sunlight of our hopes…” he pauses again, shakes his head lightly realising his mind has taken him again to the paths of poetry and philosophy. Quintus de Scardena, a healer and a philosopher.

“Please forgive me, Pele,” he offers his apology for diving into the sea of philosophical thought with a slightly embarrassed smile. “My wife, Valeria, keeps telling me that I have become more prone to philosophical musings as I grew older. As always, she is right,” he says with a soft and fond smile as he thinks about his wife. “However, this is a good opening as I am going to get to ask you about your new apprentice, Naela,” he says eagerly seizing the new line of enquiry. “Shaela’s granddaughter if I’m not mistaken… Tell me about the girl, what do you think of her and her skills so far? It’s good that we have young people willing to apprentice again…. The War left its marks on these Houses, not just on the patients we treat, but on our ranks as well…”


OOC: ((The coffee coloured (#6F4E37) and italicised lines are quotes from Arkady Martine's works A Memory Called Empire and A Desolation Called Peace.))
Wyrdwritere. She/her. I contain multitudes.

Brewer
Points: 120 
Posts: 38
Joined: Wed Nov 25, 2020 6:26 pm
Ann Kalagon with Pele Alarion
Healer quarters: storage

Well, Pele,” she replied, “I know what you mean, yet note that we are unpacking them in the order of their gathering—so these bundles are the older of the lot.Ann smeared honey on the buttered bread roll she held, and set to again with the hot tea as well.

As Pele exclaimed over the herbal treasure, Ann said, “All the places have been on a path across the Northern lands, up until my travel back here from Bree. But everywhere you might travel, there are herbs to harvest if you have time to look, with the exceptions of lands near the Morannon.” She then fell quiet for the length of time it took to finish the hot bread.

And, these are all Dwarvish roots!” she said, with a satisfied look on her face and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “So I do not know if these have names in Gondor, or maybe in Numenorean lore, other than the names the Dale men use.

From what the herbalists told us in Dale, Dwarvish medicine with roots is focused on restoring balance in the Dwarf’s system. You would have to spend some time there I think, with them, and in observance of practice, to get all the nuances? But in general, start with a smaller dosage, judging on the patient and how they present to you, and observe over a few days.

As she spoke, she opened the lid of the large leather box, which looked to be dyed a dark blue in this light—this box had taken up well over half the space of the saddle bag, though the bag itself was not yet empty. Packed within the box was a store of dried roots in varying sizes and of three colors. Each color type made a section—three stripes in appearance—a thick reddish-brown sort, a yellowish-brown root with eager budding root branches, and a bluish, almost purple type.

They gather the roots and hang them in an airway just long enough to dry,” Ann said. “And then they keep well for months if stored in a cool dry place with some air. This lot is ready for better storage!

These reddish roots, their effect is kind of like the Hurin’s wort, but for Dwarves. It is called Bloodroot, and it is very good for balance of the emotions. This could be any emotional upset, stress, anxiety, grief, what have you. The suffering Dwarf should have one of these cooked slowly over three or four hours into their meat broth each day.Ann handed one to Pele to inspect, and lifted out the yellow brown type with branching rootlets.

They call this one Mountain’s root; this is used for all sorts of digestive imbalances. Apparently, Dwarves may sometimes suffer various blockage or ulcers or other issues of the tracts. As before, a matter of balance must be healed; the Dwarf’s daily meat broth should have a Mountain’s root cooked in, treatment over the course of five days.” She handed this root to Pele.

These deep blue ones are called Wizard’s root. These are good for a number of issues; almost anything involving energy or vigor. Wizard’s root is indicated for a patient recovering from illness or injury. And it is sovereign for cleansing, for any detoxification—sometimes Dwarves come into contact while mining with toxic dust or rocks; you may never have such a patient, but others may need their system cleansed and balanced,Ann sniffed at the bluish root, and her eyes narrowed in reaction. She handed this one to Pele then, indicating she might want to smell it for recognition.

This Wizard’s root now, you may prepare in advance. Bring some to a boil, just by itself, simmer very low for two hours. When cool, put it up in glass bottles and away from the light. Leave it like that at least six months—the longer, the better. Dosage would be a dropper in a mug of hot tea, three times a day for ten days.

Ann set the Dwarvish medicinal roots back in the blue leather box after Pele had finished inspection, wrapped it round again with the twine and pushed it along the table. She next retrieved a blue silk bundle from the saddlebag bound tightly with red string, which when unrolled revealed a good bundle of athelas. “This is Dale athelas! It was freshly sundried then wrapped when we were there!

Oh!” she said, retrieving a small bundle from the bag. "This was under the box. I almost forgot; we have one more batch of roots." And she unwrapped some winds of a fibrous plant to reveal small brown roots sort of resembling little people. “The herbalist that used these roots called them Dain's Friend and emphasized their efficacy as a general tonic for Dwarves. Its preparation is another type to cook slowly into meat broth as the others. Now this wrapping is of a fibrous plant used for bandages. And here is a packet of a chalky powder that staunches bleeding in minor abrasions.

Her tea was empty. “Might we get another pot of tea, Pele? I have more honey,” she said with a smile. “For after visiting Dale with my Beorning cousins on my Mom’s side, we traveled back west together through the forest to my village, and then on again to their home. Guess what I have from there?
fka Ann Kalagon, Hyandaner

Mae Govannen, my friends!

Ioreth the Healer
Ioreth the Healer
Points: 1 442 
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Joined: Wed May 27, 2020 7:12 pm
Recovery room – Nessa with Tom and Eril @Call of Bearthulhu

It feels surreal to watch the man whose heart had stopped yesterday (“Did all of this happen yesterday?Nessa wonders), who almost died in her care, swim back to consciousness. Consciousness brought pain, a bloom of chemical fire, life reasserting itself. She watches the man (Eril, Tom’s father) she had brought back from the entrance of the cavern, from the brink of death, by using the skills Quintus had taught her in these very Houses. The skills passed by her mentor, skills she had not used since the War ended and April became the cruellest month.

She pushes the painful memories of her miscarriage away, anamnesis awoke by the spaces and scents of the Houses of Healing. At a glance, this recovery room is similar to the one she was in, the colour of the walls almost identical, but slightly off. Similar furniture differently arranged. Almost the same, but not; different enough so she can function, hold herself together until echoes of memories pass over her and through her. They will always be with her, those flowers of pain and remembrance, rising to the surface when sight, scent or sound awakens them from slumber. For now, she takes those recollections, cradles them in her arms like a child, her child that was lost, sacrificed on the altar of War’s end, forlorn hope… She holds them, examines them in her mind before she carefully puts them away, lays down her burdens in a safe and distant corner of her mind.

Nessa divides her focus between breathing and Eril. Slow, steady and calming breaths as she observes her patient, notices his surprise and confusion as he turned to her. She wonders if he remembers who she is; if he remembers exactly what happened to him? If he’s just now starting to realise the seriousness of his condition and how extremely lucky he was? He was at the threshold of the cavern that leads to the Halls of Awaiting, a flip of a castar, a move left instead of right and he could have entered those caverns and venture beyond everyone’s reach. Forever. Until the world breaks again and is remade anew.

He seems aware of it, the seriousness of his condition, as he starts speaking, saying her name uncertainly asking for confirmation that he remembered it. She nods and he continues speaking, his voice sluggish from disuse and affected by the pain. Still, he perseveres. He keeps talking and she smiles at him as he thanks her before she helps him up and gives him a glass of water. It’s wondrous that he is awake and speaking and she is grateful that he lives, for the spark of chemical fire in him. The change this event caused in him. What he says next astonishes her.

“I have something to ask of you, Mistress Nessa. I do have a great debt to pay to you and the House of Healing, and an apology for my… behavior,” as he speaks his cheeks flush red, embarrassment visible on his face. Still, he perseveres. “I would like to make it up to you. Do… do you have any work around here you think I would be qualified for?”

She watches him for a long time, silently contemplating his question. As she thinks about his condition she unconsciously focuses on her heartbeat, strong and healthy, her thoughts matching its rhythm. Before she answers she takes a chair and arranges it so she’s facing Eril, while Tom’s sitting on the bed next to his father.

“You needn’t worry about finances,” she starts slowly with the easiest part as she sits down on the chair her hands primly folded in her lap. “The cost of your treatment and recovery has been covered by an anonymous benefactor,” her lips quirk in wry amusement. Pro anima mea. “You had a heart attack,” she says carefully, the expression on her face grave and her voice sombre. “That means that for a moment your heart stopped beating and I had to intervene to keep you alive,” she explains as simply as she can and pauses so Eril can digest this information. “Chest compression, the procedure I used to restart your heart, doesn’t always work. The heart is a mysterious organ, so many things about it are unknowable to healers…”

She pauses, again, thinking about Eril’s condition and his desire to make amends by working in the Houses of Healing. The room is quiet, the adults and the child lost in the seriousness of the situation.

“You and Tom both need to rest and recover,” she says after a long while. “If you want to live Eril, and when I look at you I see that you want to, you will need to change your lifestyle,” she looks him in the eyes as she tells him this and sees a determination to change, to be better, to do better. She nods in recognition of his desires and will to change and continues. “To manage your condition you will need to take precisely dosed medication every day, for as long as you live… These concoctions are not easy to make; one of the ingredients is a species of foxglove, which can be poisonous in high doses,” she stresses a note of warning in her voice. “However, all things are poison, and nothing is without poison. The dosage alone makes it so a thing is not a poison,” she cites Paracelsus’ adage from memory.

“Taking into consideration your condition, your family situation,” she says thoughtfully looking at the father and son, both her patients. “The medication you will have to take… Perhaps, a good start would be for you to see and learn how an apothecary formulates and prepares materia medica,” she suggests. “Unfortunately due to my long absence from the Houses, I am not aware who is currently the Master Pharmacist. Quintus de Scardena, the senior administrator, will know. He is the one we will need to approach with this idea if this is something you would like to do. You don’t need to give me your answer immediately, think this through. Besides, you and Tom need time to recover before you embark on a new adventure,” she tells them with a smile. “Think and talk about it, use this time to rest and make plans. If you need more information before making a decision the staff and the library of the Houses of Healing are at your disposal.”
Wyrdwritere. She/her. I contain multitudes.

Ioreth the Healer
Ioreth the Healer
Points: 1 442 
Posts: 957
Joined: Wed May 27, 2020 7:12 pm
NPC Matilda – out and about the Houses of Healing


A quick exchange of knowing glances and nods between the golden-haired nurse and the young healer was all that was needed before Matilda exited the treatment room with brisk efficiency. As she carefully closed the door to the treatment room, leaving their wisely mischievous and adventurous patient in Nessa’s care, she walked swiftly down the hallway passing the closed doors of treatment rooms as she headed towards the healer’s quarters and the storage area. Her dim grey nurse’s uniform rustled as she walked, the soles of her practical and comfortable shoes making the softest of sounds in contact with the stone floor.

As she reached the end of this passage and before she took a turn that would take her to the healer’s quarters she paused for a moment, thinking. Unconsciously she reached out and placed the palm of her hand on the stone wall of the hall and closed her eyes letting the low hum of background vestigia of the Houses of Healing envelop her like a palla made of the finest cashmere wool. She could, of course, go to the storage room by herself, talk to whichever clerk was on duty there today, fill out the necessary paperwork for the allotment of a wooden wheelchair for transporting a patient… A rather mundane and routine task…

But where was the fun in that? A small mischievous smile lit up the golden-haired nurse’s face as she opened her cornflower blue eyes, her hand still pressed on the stone wall. A sense impression of laughter radiated from the wall, an echo of whimsicality, a memory of that sound once heard at this very spot. She let her hand slowly slide from the wall and vestigium, the imprint magic left behind, faded away into the unseen. She moved again, taking the turn that would lead her to the healer’s quarters, her walk purposeful, following the rhythm of a melody she hummed as she moved.

It didn’t take her long to get to the desired destination and find who she was looking for. The lads were at their usual spot, sitting on the wooden benches ‘round the sturdy table on which mugs and bowls filled with nuts and dried fruit stood. They were talking, their voices filled with merriment. She rapped her knuckles gently on the door frame and the four of them stopped their conversation and turned to look at her. Fred, she noticed unsurprisingly, suffered no permanent damage from being teased by 3 women in various stages of amusement. One of them being a rather mischievous seven thousand-year-old elf-maid.

“Alright lads,” she greeted them as they watched her curiously while she entered the room.
“Hullo ‘Tilda. Have more elf ladies whose bathtubs need to be filled?” asked Darren while the others chuckled.
“Or are you here to pick up Fred?” Ian chimed as he poked Fred in the ribs. “That new patient of yours sure took a liking to him.”
“Oi!” Fred let out a noise of protest as the room dissolved into peels of laugher more suited to young schoolchildren than the staff of the Houses of Healing.
“Unfortunately for you lot, and especially for poor Fred here,” Matilda said as she struggled to maintain a professional demeanour. “Alas, I have no more elf-maidens whose bathtubs need to be filled at the moment,” she watched their faces as she spoke and she detected hints of disappointment. It wasn’t every day that elves visited the Houses of Healing, even though the Queen of Gondor was an elleth herself. “But I do need help with a wheelchair,” she said with a beatific smile.
“Whaddaya need help with a wheelchair for?” Fred grumbled and received a slap over the head from Ian. “Oi! What was that for you fleeging dimwit?!”
“'Tilda doesn’t need help with getting a wheelchair,” Ian explained while rolling his eyes. “She can get the bleeding wheelchair herself, it fairly simple and she’s a smart lass,” he looked at her pointedly and she acknowledged his point with a nod of her head.
“I thought I should stop by on the way,” Matilda replied and shrugged her shoulders. “Check to see that poor Fred didn’t suffer a stroke,” said and the lads chuckled at Fred’s expense. “You did look like an overcooked lobster for a few moments there Fred…”
“Like you know how an overcooked lobster looks like,” Fred muttered indignantly under his breath as he reached for his mug.
“I can and I do read you know,” she retorted shaking her head in exasperation. “Right, looks like you haven’t suffered any brain damage, well any more damage at least,” she said her sentence drawing out more laughter. “I’ll leave you to it, carry on,” she told them and with a nod of her head turned and exited the room.

Matilda walked swiftly across the hallway, her pace settling in a steady rhythm and thought about which route she should take to get the patient from the treatment room to the recovery room. Getting Fuin from one building to another in a wheelchair would not be a problem, even if they took the scenic route through the gardens; and something told her the elleth would like to see them and spend some time there before getting settled in the recovery room. Fuin’s weapons were the things that caused a frown to appear between Matilda’s eyebrows. Granted a bow, quiver, sword and dagger were not exactly an arsenal, but the nurse had a feeling that Fuin would be reluctant to have others handle her weapons. Perhaps if the sword and dagger were stashed in the quiver like flowers in a pot and if the elleth carried said quiver in her arms like a bouquet of very sharp and deadly azaleas… And if the bow was slung over the chair…

The sound of footsteps behind her, which were rapidly approaching, snapped her out of her musings and as she quickly turned around she almost collided with Ian. He placed his hands gently on her upper arms to steady her and moved them when he saw she was alright. She took a step backwards so she didn’t have to crane her neck to see him. She never thought of herself as a short woman, but when one encountered very tall people who towered over you…

“Are you alright?” he asked her concern evident in his golden-brown eyes.
“Yes, you just startled me,” she admitted with a sheepish grin and a slight shrug of her shoulders. “Is something the matter?”
“Thought I’d take you up on that offer to help,” he replied with a lazy smirk and she lifted her eyebrow in a questioning manner. “You and your pretty young healer friend might even need the help.”
“That pretty young healer is pretty married,” she told him tilting her head to the side and looking at him.
“A man can look,” he replied neutrally, shrugging his shoulders, that smile still in place.
“A man can look,” she agreed. “It’s not a crime,” she said dismissing the topic with a wave of her hand. “If you’re going to help follow me, hopefully, it won’t take too long and we get this thing rolling.”

Ian chuckled at her choice of words and fell into step with her. As they walked to the storage area they talked about mundane things – life in the White City, their work in the Houses of Healing, his family, mutual friends and acquaintances, her progress with Rohirric… The conversation flowed easily between them, they were co-workers and knew each other for a long time. He was good company and the walk to the storage area was as pleasant as it was swift.


From the storage room to the treatment room to tend to @Fuin Elda


As Ian told the others getting a wheelchair from the storage was a simple procedure. She filled out the necessary paperwork, in triplicate, while Ian and the clerk on duty got the wooden wheelchair and inspected it. As she signed the forms she was glad that Ian chose to come. He was right, she could do all of this by herself, it was easy and straightforward, but it was nice to have help. Each party finished their work at the same time and after Matilda thanked the clerk she, Ian and the wooden wheelchair exited the premises with Ian pushing the wheelchair.

She thought of saying something as he put his hands on the back of the wooden wheelchair and started pushing, not even bothering to ask if it was alright, but decided she didn’t want to waste her breath or time debating who would push a wooden chair on wheels. If he wanted to push the thing let him push, at least the chair was empty. They continued their easygoing conversation on the way to the treatment room, the flow of words broken only when they greeted another member of staff. Soon they reached the treatment room where Fuin and Nessa were and once again Matilda knocked on the door and waited until she heard Nessa’s voice granting them entrance. She opened the door, smiled widely and made a cavalier after you gesture to Ian. He let out a snort of laugher, ducked his head to hide it and rolled the wheelchair into the room, Matilda following.

“Your carriage is here Lady Fuin,” she gestured to the wheelchair with a flourish as she teased the elf-maiden who was looking at the chair with interest.
“And so is the horse, apparently,” Ian deadpanned and she laughed merrily and heard Nessa joining in.
“We have the means of transporting Lady Fuin from to the treatment room,” Nessa said after a while, her voice now thoughtful. “I suppose you will be taking her through the garden?” she asked Matilda and the nurse nodded. “That is sorted then. Now we need to decide about our warrior’s weapons,” the young healer said as she and the nurse exchanged looks; they both thought of the same problem. “Do you have any suggestions Lady Fuin?” Nessa asked turning her to Fuin and waiting for a suggestion from her patient.
Wyrdwritere. She/her. I contain multitudes.

Ilmarë
Ilmarë
Points: 2 567 
Posts: 2687
Joined: Sat May 16, 2020 9:29 pm
Tarawen
The Gardens with Maegon


“You must be quite a gardener, growing up with my brother to teach you,” Tara said softly. She smiled as she imagined her brother sharing his knowledge and love for tending to things that grew. She did not dwell long on this thought, though, for Maegon fidgeted with excitement at the prospect of a story about the fabled family sword.

“Alright,” she went on, “Here’s a story you won’t have heard.” She cast back into her memory for all the details that would make this tale worth the telling.

“You must have heard that I’ve spent the last several years in the north. Well, this is a story about my first journey to those lands. I had just left Minas Tirith, and the sword still felt heavy in my hands - I hadn’t trained much or very well with it at the time.

I didn’t make the journey north all in one go, of course. It’s quite a long way away, and the trip was all the more difficult because I’d never done it before. So, one night as I sat by my campfire, I was so tired that I couldn’t help it - I fell asleep right then and there. I’d been holding the sword, and it slipped from my hands. The edge of the blade must have landed in the fire. When I woke up, it was to the sound of wolves prowling close and my horse stamping at the ground. The wolves moved quietly, but I heard them growling. Even though I was sitting by a fire, my blood ran cold - I was sure those wolves would be the end of me!”

Tarawen paused here for dramatic effect, a look of horror frozen on her face. After a moment, though, she let her features relax into a smile.

“Of course, that’s not how the story ends. I’m here talking to you today, aren’t I? Without thinking, I picked up the sword and found that the blade was glowing red-hot from the fire. The grip was warm in my hand, but lucky for me, it wasn’t blazing hot like the blade. It was dark and I was still tired, so my aim was not as true as it might have been. And I’ve already told you that I wasn’t yet used to wielding the sword. So,” she paused once more, “what do you think happened next?”
she/her | ♫ I’m not mean, I’m a thousand years old and I just lost track of my moral code ♫

Councillor of Elrond
Points: 2 330 
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Joined: Sat Sep 12, 2020 7:53 am
Preparing to leave the treatment Room and go to the garden with @Nessa Saelind and Matilda and Ian

Fuin was happily nibbling away at the food provided for her when the contraption that Matilda and Nessa has spoken of was wheeled into the room and she let out an audible "ohh." as she looked at it she was quite fascinated by it bending slightly to look at the mechanics of the wheels beneath the seat which would be far harder to look at once she was on it. Almost to the point that she nearly missed it being called her horse and the fantastically humorous Ian calling himself her steed "Yes the gardens though if he's a horse we'll need to be careful horses eat anything and everything they can get their mouths on and we all know that all medicine is poison out of the proper dosage." She muttered and then realized what she had said and gave a laugh. "Apologies noble steed, that was not kind of me." She tilted her head at the question of how to transport her weapons.

"The bundle up nicely generally I don't wander around with them all on me all the time." She said with a smile and motioned for the weapons to be brought to her. Quiver was of course set beside her and she took the bow first, it was still strung and would be problematic to the bundling if it stayed that way. "Right now noble steed I have need of your strength as I am certain if I were to unstring this on my own Nessa and Matilda would have my head as this thing is about as much weight for force required to move it as I am in total weight. She slipped the bottom of the bow between her feet to secure it in place using the weight of her legs to keep it steady. before guiding Ians ands to were she wanted them on the bow. "You push with all you're might and be prepared for when I take the string off as the bow is going to straighten out fairly quickly if you don't." After a moment the two of them had the powerful bow unstrung and Fuin slide the unstrung bow into the quiver with ease before she lashed her sword to the outside of it using the belt and then put the daggers sheath into the quiver as well so that it all sat neatly together unmoving.

"And hardly a muscle was put to work." She said with a smile proud of herself for not having put too much exertion out in dealing with the bow. It could sit neatly in her arms or whoever was going to carry them. "Now if you are more comfortable with me holding them I can though I don't mind them being carried by someone else the way they are parceled it'll be hard to damage anything." She clapped her hands together. "If someone else carries them my noble steed and I can take more time likely in the garden on our way to the recovery rooms and I can look at the beautiful herbs you've got growing."

Counsellor of Gondor
Points: 1 197 
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Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 2:58 pm
Pele with @Amadhrill
Dining Area


“We could also find ourselves accompanied by a great retinue if the rumour gets out, so we could arrive with all proper etiquette,” Pele added to Ama’s thought of finding ways to encourage Faramir and Eowyn to invite them for a visit; and she began to consider more seriously the idea of sending a word to them herself.

Pele then followed Ama’s example and helped herself to some food in the form of a bowl of stew and a good-sized slice of rye bread and a chunk of meat to go with it. Whenever food was available, Pele made sure to make good use of it; while she had already put some weight back on and looked much better than some months ago, the good meals ensured she had enough strength to increase the volume and intensity of training.

“The cooks here do their best to provide nutritious meals for healers and patients,” Pele commented, as she took the time to enjoy and savour the food. “At least you won’t go hungry while you are here, and in all likeliness won’t grow bored with the food. And… if there is anything I can do to make your time here not feel like you are constantly sitting on thorns, just let me know.”

From what Amadhrill shared Pele could get a small glimpse of the healer’s troubles, and she felt that she could relate to this shared piece of personal information quite well. While she did not want to pry for more details or become too overwhelming, Pele made a quiet commitment to support Ama whenever necessary, while she was at the Houses of Healing at any rate.

When the Rohir showed the seeds, she had brought in the pouch, Pele’s eyes widened with curiosity, and she posed a quiet question: “Would you be willing to share a seed or two with me?” She then hastened to explain: “While I had seen the flowers it never entered my mind to acquire the seeds or ask for them… I… could perhaps plant some on my husband’s grave… But I am sure simbelmynë would grow well here.”


~~~~~~~~~~

With Quintus de Scardena @Nessa Saelind
Study


The biscuit seemed to melt in her mouth, and Pele savoured the slightly tangy taste, not minding the quiet moment while they both sipped the tea. She was sure that the man would speak when his mind in due time; there was no need to stress about it. Especially when there was tea and treats at hand.

When Quintus seemed to take kindly to the idea of dancing she had mentioned, Pele tilted her head slightly, a small grin on her lips. She was not a bad dancer, yet that was usually something reserved for official balls and such, not for public entertainment, though she could see that it would attract a fair amount of attention and money. Yet, she was not sure she would ever agree to do anything like that.

“Well, it is good that there is no immediate need to rush out and dance all the way to the first circle and back again,” she commented, sipping the tea. “Though if that was a case, I would demand half of the income in payment for the effort.” Her words held a serious note, though her eyes spoke a different story, and a mischievous glint could be seen there.

She tried to follow the man’s poetic musings but found that she could not quite keep up. “Ah, I am quite sure your wife is very right on this,” she concluded in confirmation of his words. “I am too much hands-on to understand philosophical things very well, though trying…”

While she pondered his question about Naela, Pele took another biscuit, dipped it into the tea and then popped it into her mouth. “Mmmm…” she expressed her appreciation of the sweet food item before getting back to more serious matters. “Yes, she is Shaela’s granddaughter, Naela. 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,” Pele expressed her evaluation. “I think we will not be left without wanting for new healers.”

~~~~~~~~~~

With Ann @Ankala Teaweed
Storage


“Yes, herbs can be found anywhere,” she agreed, while making yet another honey-bread for herself. “And a good thing to collect, when not thinking of mere survival. Else I would have brought some interesting things too.”

Having eaten half of the bread roll, she set the rest aside and turned her attention back to the treasures Ann had brought. Meticulously she inspected each root, running her fingers along it to feel the texture, and then bringing each to her nose to smell.

Soon the notes contained a detailed description of each root and herb, the properties and the application, and she even made crude drawings of each, though she did not have any great artist abilities.
Perhaps she’d ask someone to redo these for her at some point.

Pele emptied her own cup of tea, and then stood, taking the teapot with her. “There’s always more tea, Ann,” she said and moved into the study to where she knew some water was still on the hearth. It did not take her long to return again with the promised tea and refilled the mugs.

“Wait, it is not fair to make me guess so!” Pele laughed, setting aside the writing again to finish bread. “Is it a special type of honey?”
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

Ancalagon
Ancalagon
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The Gardens
Maegon and Tarawen


His head lifted and the smile on his young face beamed even more as Tarawen acknowledge that he must be quite the gardner. He took great pride in learning as much as he could, already able to name every single plant that was growing here. He still had yet to learn what each plant could do, but he was still proud of at least being able to name them. But he kept that to himself for the moment as Tarawen carried on, eager to hear a story from her, especially if it was going to be one he had not heard before.

Barely able to stop himself from literally bouncing in his seat, he fiddled even more with the leaf in his hands, crumbling the poor thing to pieces even before Tarawen had begun. Unaware of the leaf's fate, he eagerly nodded his head as she asked if he had heard of her heading north, immediately trying to picture the cities and towns she would have seen along the way.

The more Tarawen relayed of her story, the more his mouth gaped as he leaned forward, gasping as she told of the wolves prowling near. Having lived all of his life in the City, he had never seen a wolf himself, but being a young boy he had a vivid imagination and his eyes went wide at the thought of the danger his Step-Aunt had been in. Riveted by the story so far, he even gasped at the thought of the wolves having gotten the better of her, chuckling nervously as Tarawen relaxed and smiled. Feeling a little silly, as she was obviously ok as she was here now, he still wanted to know what had happened and how she had gotten away alive.

As Tarawen paused and asked him what he thought happened next, his imagination immediately filled in the rest of the scene for him. Excitedly he jumped up and grabbed a small stick near the bench.

"You swung the blazing sword, lighting the night and setting the wolves on fire as you stabbed them!" Each word was punctuated by a swing or a stab of his stick-sword, ending it with a flourish as he pretended to stab a wolf laying at his feet, his eyes flying up to his Aunt to see if his version was true or not.

Éowyn
Éowyn
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Dining area with @Pele Alarion

Amadhrill laughed softly, her green eyes glittered at the thought of herself in front of retinue of well-dressed Gondorians, and shook her head between mouthfuls of bread. She swollowed the food in her mouth. «Nay, if I can help it I would rather not have a great retinue accompanying us.» She laughed at the thought.

«I am a farmer's wife and a hælend of Rohan, I am used to riding alone or with as part of a cavalry éored...» she stopped, searched her mind for the correct word in the common speech. «Cavalry...» she begun again. «Ah, never mind, I do not know the correct word, but as part of the cavalry. Not a retinue. But I will save a few seeds for the Lady, never the less, should I chance upon her...»

For a little she ate her food in silence, enjoying the taste of fresh food again. Her thoughts wandering a little in the comfortable silence as Pele the master healer also ate. The question caught her by surprise, as it shifted from the light talk of a travel, a future adventure, back to the tragedies that marked a life. Ama's green eyes looked gently into Pele's face, so they shared another thing. She found the seed pouch again and rummaged through her bag until she found what she was looking for, a small rag. Then she gently picked out three seeds and put them in the rag, carefully she folded it so that the small seeds would not escape. She held it out with a friendly smile. «May it bring peace to the memory.»

Ama finished the meal in silence and thought before stretching herself comfortably. «The food was very good, I can see how it will provide health and energy for both hælends, healers, and patients. How soon do you think you are able to free yourself from your duties here in Mundburg, Minas Tirith? Are there many places that you bury your dead? The mound of King Théoden and of my own people I believe I will be able to locate, thought much must have changed in the years since I was last here... Though if you can find time to accompany me there, you would de me a great honour.»

She hesitated, the grave of her first husband, she had not found when she searched for him many years ago. But she had not known who to ask, where to ask, nor did she had much information.
Image
Bealdorhælend

Ilmarë
Ilmarë
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Tarawen
The Gardens with Maegon


Tarawen was a composed, steady person. This trait had helped her to do well as a ranger: rare was the day when she was too rattled to tackle a situation head-on. If something threatening leapt out of the trees at her, she would of course be startled momentarily, but then she would collect herself and swiftly have an arrow nocked to her bowstring or her sword in hand. And when others roared with laughter in a pub, she would smile, nod, and turn back to her thoughts. This stoicism had made it all the more remarkable when she left the city in a fit of temper, amidst a fight with her brother. And so she surprised even herself when a gale of hearty laughter burst from her at the sight of Maegon acting out her fight with the wolves.

“That’s very good!” she remarked, watching with amusement as he stabbed the final imaginary wolf at his feet. “But alas! I was not as skilled with the sword as you.” She smiled, then stood up herself. She gripped an invisible sword and proceeded to act out what had actually happened:

“I was tired and untrained and quite unfit to wield the sword that night,” she began. “It was far heavier in my hand than I expected, but I was determined to get in a swing or two at the wolves, if only to scare them a bit. I lifted it overhead with two hands to strike, but then I lost my balance. The sword missed the wolf I was aiming for and struck a large stone.” Here, Tarawen mimed the sword coming down heavily to hit the rock. “A great shower of sparks burst from the place where the sword and stone met. I jumped back a bit, not wanting to be burned myself. Well, some of those sparks landed on the nose and fur of the nearest wolf.” At this, Tarawen paused in her reenactment. She brushed at her nose, just as the wolf had pawed at his. “His nose must have been stinging! And then he noticed that his fur had caught in a couple of places. He yelped and ran off, and the rest of the pack followed.”

She hoped now, just as she had that night, that the wolf hadn’t been too badly hurt. The flames had been small enough for a gust of wind to blow them out, and it did rain later that night. She had since killed wolves, of course, but always out of necessity. It gave her no pleasure to do so.

“I was very, very lucky that night,” she told Maegon seriously. She seated herself on their bench again and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “And I hope the wolf wasn’t truly burned. I like animals, really. I just prefer it when they don’t try to eat me.” She placed her hands on her knees and looked her nephew in the eyes. “Well, that’s my story! Let it be a lesson to you: learn to use your tools before you need them!” And she laughed heartily again, this time at her own youthful foolishness.
she/her | ♫ I’m not mean, I’m a thousand years old and I just lost track of my moral code ♫

Counsellor of Gondor
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Dining area with @Amadhrill

"Well, no retinue then, perhaps accompanied by the whole Gondorian military then," Pele said in a serious tone, though the grin and a merry spark in her eyes gave away the silliness of the suggestion. "I think eored would be what we call a company - or something like that. Though... don't worry if you can't find the right word, Ama. I have a sister in Rohan, so am familiar with quite a few words."

When Amadhrill carefully set apart the seeds for her, Pele accepted them and hid the rag away in a pocket that was meant for valuables - in case she had to carry any on her person - as if it were a great treasure. "Thank you! It is high time I visited the grave, and I think the seeds might indeed help in bringing peace," she said quietly.

It also seemed that they had both had their fill from the plentiful food the cook had brought out, though Pele hastened to snatch up one last biscuit to go with what remained of the tea in her cup. "I'd say the meals had not always been this plentiful, but these days there is no lack," she nodded at now mostly empty dishes. "It is well, as long as the patients do not have an ailment that makes them unable to eat, but then that is a different story."

The Gondorian took a moment to think of the last questions Ama had posed, while she emptied the tea and finished the biscuit. "I think I might tie up any loose ends around here within an hour, and delegate everything else to other healers and helpers. If an hour would seem sufficient to you, I'd happily accept the honour of accompanying you," she eventually spoke, her blue eyes smiling at Ama. "Our stewards and kings rest here on the sixth circle, the Silent Street we call it; however, most other people are not buried in stone dwellings... we have assigned locations on the Pelennor Field, two... three, I think."
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

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