Houses of Healing

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A special guest appearance by Ioreth the Healer along with The Bright Young Healers and Nurses attending to Liriel

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When Ioreth opened the door of the spacious study room of the Houses of Healing she was pleased to notice that the usually silent and serene study was abuzz with activity. Many of the new healer and apothecary apprentices gathered in the study to revise for their upcoming examinations. They were joined by some of the returning healers and nurses. Various medical books and manuscripts were divided between them, scraps of parchment and writing utensils scattered on the table. A few of the apprentices were so focused on the text they were reading that the noise from the room faded, others were copying passages from a book or a manuscript on pieces of parchment or in their journals. Some divided into small groups and quizzed each other on the subject they were revising.

Ioreth smiled watching all those bright young minds (for all of them looked so young to her) gathered together in the study to learn about the healing arts. The sense of community was tangible and she felt such profound joy and a sense of rightness in her bones seeing them all here in the study. The Houses of Healing were once again brimming with life and sound. She stood at the threshold of the study observing the new generation of apothecaries, healers and nurses and her heart was filled with pride and joy. These young women and men were her legacy. Her musings were interrupted by the cries from the reception area, so Ioreth quickly closed the door to the study and went to see how she could help.

As she was nearing the reception area a lad of twelve summers with curly blond hair almost crashed into her. She steadied the lad, placing her hands on his shoulders and looked at him properly. Recognising Gellir, Liriel’s shy and bookish firstborn son, she knew that there was only one reason for the boy to be here.

“Mistress Ioreth!” Gellir cried when he looked up and recognised her. “Please, you must come quick! My mother is having her baby! But it’s two weeks early!”
“Breathe Gellir, breathe,” the Matron healer told the lad. “Run to your mother and tell her I’m coming. I need to tell the nurses and my assistants to prepare the birthing room” Ioreth said thinking about the healers, nurses and apprentices in the room, deciding which of them she would call to assist in this particular childbirth. “Run along now, I’ll be with you shortly.”

Gellir nodded, turning on his heel and running back to his mother. He was truly a good lad, who would no doubt grow into a fine man and make some girl very happy. With a quirk of her lips, Ioreth swiftly opened the door to the study and entered closing the door behind her. The sound made the occupants lift their heads and they straightened up when they saw her, some of them greeting her cheerfully.

“Bryony, Heather” she called two of the nurses who hurriedly got out of their chairs. “Head to the birthing room and make sure the fires are lit and the room ready.” The two women nodded their heads and promptly left the study. Ioreth glanced around the room, noticing the excited and worried faces. Her eyes stopped on a young dark-haired young healer who was nervously biting her lip. The golden-haired nurse who was sitting next to her watched her friend with a worried frown on her face. The young healer was Nessa, who recently returned from Pelargir, and the nurse was Matilda. The two women had bonded quickly and made an efficient team when they had a chance to work together. Ioreth watched the two for a moment, then nodded coming to a decision.

“Nessa, Matilda” she called the two women and when they looked at her beckoned them to come over. “Today you will act as the midwife,” Ioreth told the young healer. “Matilda and I will assist you,” she said placing a reassuring hand on Nessa’s shoulder. “The patient is Liriel, the grocer, a chatty lass if I ever met one! This is her 6th pregnancy! Five healthy boys, she birthed into the world, big, happy and healthy babes.” Ioreth informed the two women who nodded, and some of the tension and worry left them. “Run along my dears, make sure that everything is ready in the birthing room and I’ll go help the poor woman get there. I hope this time it’s a girl. That household has too many boys and not enough girls to help the poor lass…”

After making sure that everything was in order Ioreth swiftly went to the reception to check on Liriel and help her get to the birthing room. As soon as laid eyes on the heavily pregnant grocer, her son’s comment about her labour starting two weeks early made sense. Liriel’s stomach was bigger than it was in her previous pregnancies and combined with the fact she was carrying low meant that the grocer’s household will soon welcome twin boys. Smiling she walked over to Liriel who was holding on to a chair, bent over from the pain. Gellir stood next to her, looking worried.

“Let’s get you to the birthing room dearie” she calmly told Liriel and took her by the hand. “Those two lads of yours are in a hurry to greet you,” she said with a smile and then turned to her son. “Gellir, darling, you should go home to your brothers. Your mother is in good hands here. If you need to inform your father tell one of the runners of the Houses of Healing. Say my name if you need to. Nice and easy now dearie” she said to Liriel. “We’re almost there…”


The Birthing Room

When the Houses of Healing were built, a large room in the form of a complete square from floor to ceiling was specially constructed close to the treatment rooms. The room, whose similarity to the treatment room could be seen in the rows of shelves and cabinets along an uncovered stone wall and in the large fireplace where a substantial cauldron hung, afforded a view of the gardens. The room’s storage space contained specific medical instruments and medicine, such as strong-smelling herbs, olive oil, sponges, wool bandages etc. The similarity of the rooms ended there, for the rest of the walls in the Birthing room were covered with richly decorated tapestries, among them the series called The Lady and the Unicorn.

In the corner of the room, nearest to the fireplace stood a bed and near it the birthing chair. Other stools and chairs were strategically arranged, and a roaring fire crackled in the fireplace. The cauldron filled with water was set over it. The smell of lavender and other calming herbs spread across the warm room. Basins and ewers filled with water in addition to the empty ones and clean white towels were prepared. As per tradition, the cupboard doors were opened and all knots untied. The young healer and the nurses finished their preparations just in time. The door to the Birthing room opened and Ioreth and Liriel entered.
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The Treatment room With Nessa and Matilda @Nessa Saelind

The cool on her face felt good and she let out a little groan, though she wasn't sure if it was just a mental groan or if she managed to make noise. It wasn't because it hurt the cool felt good on her swollen face. There were a few more spots where she thought the ice could go as well like on the wound on her leg it stung terribly even still. The athelas was making it easier to keep her wits about her for far longer and she soon found herself looking up at a blurry face talking at her for the moment since she wasn't overly capable of being talked to quiet yet but she was getting there very quickly. There was a second person there she was certain of the voice she had heard speaking Sindarin before was different and this one was speaking in the common Westron tongue.

She blinked slowly the face above her still wasn't in focus but that could be the head trauma from... she wasn't sure anymore. Her throat felt like she had swallowed half of the sand near the Grey Havens. "Water?" She managed to croak out harshly she wasn't even sure she managed to speak or if she'd managed to say water in common or if she'd said it in Sindarin or if it had come out entirely as a garble of her trying to talk. She tried to swallow to clear her throat better but her mouth was as dry as her throat. She blinked again and lifted a hand to put it to her face with a groan realizing just how bad of shape she was in, as she tried to see if she could find water in the room so that if her mumbling didn't translate properly she could point at the water and hopefully get her message across. The longer she was awake the better her vision was though her head most certainly was still hurting, and her pupils still were not equal with each other as she caught sight of the other healer who was nearby she winced slightly as she moved her head and relaxed her head back down with a groan. She was gonna have to stay put it seemed until the healers gave her more pain killers, if they gave her more pain killers.

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Treatment room – Nessa and NPC Matilda with @Fuin Elda

Encouraged by the young healer’s words Matilda gently placed the cold compress on the elleth’s face where the worst of the swelling was. She kept it in place for a few seconds, then moved it slightly to not irritate the skin on the elf-maid’s face.

– I apologise for not introducing myself properly. My name is Matilda, and I’m a nurse in the Houses of Healing – she spoke in Westron, her voice serene. She moved the cold compress over her patient’s face, noticing when her fair skin turned slightly red from the cold, a signal to move the washcloth filled with ice to another part of the face. – I do hope that the coolness of the ice isn’t bothering you much – she continued talking as she glanced over to see how Nessa was doing.

Before she started mixing the necessary ingredients for the preparation of the anodyne the young healer took a mug, a tea infuser and a kettle from the cupboard. Placing the tea infuser in the mug and the mug on the table she walked over to the fireplace with the kettle in hand. Using the ladle she filled the kettle to the brim with warm water. Returning to the desk she set the kettle down and took the jar with the athelas leaves and placed some of them into the infuser and poured warm water from the kettle over it. The fresh and sweet aroma of athelas emanated from the mug.

Matilda smiled when she saw what Nessa was doing and after inhaling deeply the clean and calming aroma of the herb she focused back on her patient. The elleth’s breathing was calm and relaxed, indicating that the treatments they applied so far worked. Furthermore, it looked like the swelling on her face was slowly but surely going down.

– The swelling is going down nicely – the nurse continued her one-way running commentary. – However, the bruises are going to mar your lovely face for a while. They’ll fade, of course, and there’s always cosmetics to hide them until then… Do you even use cosmetics? – Matilda asked curiously, although she did not expect an answer. – With your lovely complexion I don’t think you need to, but maybe that’s an elvish thing? Although, somehow even if it was a thing I don’t think you’d be the type to sit down in front of the vanity to do your hair and paint your face…

She heard Nessa’s quiet giggles from the other side of the room and chuckled slightly. She was aware of how silly she sounded, making assumptions about a person based on a few observations. However, it was a safe and mundane subject, an ordinary matter as far removed from the war, battle, injuries as one could get.

– Still, I shouldn’t be making assumptions, should I? – Matilda said while carefully observing the patient who groaned slightly. It didn’t sound like the elleth was in pain, rather that she was relieved by the sensation of coolness on her face. – Maybe you enjoy doing your hair and applying cosmetics just as much as kicking your enemies in their neither region?

The nurse’s question was “answered” in an unexpected way. The elleth opened her eyes, they were stunningly blue despite their lack of focus and looked up at her. Matilda stopped what she was doing and observed the patient’s reaction, and after a moment the patient visibly struggling spoke one word in Sindarin. Water. The elleth was asking for water.

– She’s awake – Matilda spoke, although she was certain that the young healer heard their patient. – Easy now milady! – She told the patient when she noticed that she was lifting her hand. – Slow and careful now, no sudden movements.

The nurse placed the washcloth with the ice down and took a clean one, dampened it and moistened the patient’s lips. Hearing movement behind she turned to see Nessa coming over with two mugs. She took the one with water leaving the one with the athelas infusion in the healer’s hands.

I know you’re thirsty and in a lot of pain.Nessa spoke to the elf-maid in Sindarin. – I’ve brought water over, Matilda will help you drink it. Slow and careful sips now. I know you’re thirsty but your pupils are dilated and you’ve injured your head. Slow sips of water for now, and then a bit of athelas infusion for your headache. Don’t worry, I’ve prepared something for the pain too, but I want to see how you respond first so I can judge the dose of the anodyne correctly.
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Liriel giving birth

The room was beautiful. More beautiful than any of her rooms in the small house she had with her husband that was for sure. One would almost expect this room to be calming, serene. Maybe a place of meditation. However the howled feral scream soon shattered that illusion as Liriel made her way inside helped by Ioreth. "AAAAAHHhHHHH!!!"

She paused just inside the door, hands clutching at her huge belly as if she were afraid it would drop to the floor and screamed, "It's coming! I can feel it!" She stood slightly bowlegged as if something was pushing against her pelvis, worry written all over her face. Had she heard Ioreth saying lads. As in not one lad, but LADS? No.. surely she was mistaken! She had never had twins and as far as she knew there were no twins in hers or her husbands family. This had to be just a big baby, that was all. But even that worried her, as how the heck was she going to push a big one out??

"AaaaaAAHAHHH!!" she screamed again as she felt a release between her legs and suddenly the floor around her was wet. "Sorry.." she managed between clenched teeth, cursing her husband for putting her in this predicament, again.

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Master Healer Pele Alarion w/ Addhor and Naela
Treatment Room

Pele was very grateful to see that Addhor did not press her for information on what had happened to her hand, though she suspected that he might have a good guess. Perhaps in good time... she might tell him, but now she had to make sure that he did not insist on abusing his own leg and end up ruining more of it.

"Well..." the mention of the dance teacher made a grin appear on Pele's face, as she just could not help imagine such dancing lessons, though she did not doubt the ability of the man to achieve anything he set out to learn. "You should indeed postpone the dancing until that limb of yours is healed up, and then take it a bit easy, though I would not say: do not dance at all."

"Naela," she then turned to the girl, suppressed laughter still lingering in her eyes. "Why don't you look in the middle cupboard; the bottom shelf should have a couple of jars marked 'clivers'. That ointment is made on the basis of clivers' leaves and stems and might assist a bit in lessening the swelling."

Then Pele considered the patient and his leg again, thinking of his occupation and stubbornness, and the need to earn sustenance. "I'd want you to stay at rest for a week, just to start," she said to Addhor, setting about to dispel any ideas he might be entertaining about walking around on the very next day. "Then I'd want to check up on the healing process and see whether it is fine. Also, don't overdo the cleansing - you might make it raw and cause more harm than benefit. Use the ointment to keep it soft."

"You know, Addhor," she added after a moment, "You might command your apprentice or such around a bit and perhaps invent some more supports and interesting devices meanwhile. Perhaps some rest would prove the source of even more creativity..." At any rate she hoped that her words would give him at least a bit of hope instead of sounding as if she was almost condemning him to jail of sorts.
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Treatment room – Fuin with @Nessa Saelind and NPC Matilda

The world came crashing in in horrifically blurry focus and she had half a thought to press her hand to her face to try to feel what had happened there when she was told very swiftly no fast movements and she paused and rethought the plan of pressing her hand to her face. That would be a bad idea she decided and she shut her eyes happily at the feel of moisture on her lips.

Fuin let Matilda bare most of the weight of her head while she sipped daintily at the cup of water her eyes shutting at just how sweet it was and a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth though it pained her from the bruising and scrapes which had been well cleaned. she rested her head back onto the pillow after a moment and looked towards Nessa the healer who was holding what she assumed was the Athelas infusion. She had no idea how long it had taken her to take those few sips, but it was far longer than it should have but it did give her throat some time between sips to calm daown "A lot." Was the first thing to come out of her mouth though, once she fully understood what Nessa had said about how much anodyne to give her. She let out a tiny snort of laughter at herself which hurt terribly mostly due to her bruised ribs and she let out a small groan. "Definitely a lot of anodyne, at least once we figure out my head." She said realizing that Nessa may not approve of her attempt at humor entirely, but she was old enough that she should have known better than to wander into Mordor alone. Her throat at least was feeling a lot better after the few meager sips of water that she had taken, though her voice was still somewhat hoarse it was not nearly as bad as it had been. And she very slowly and carefully (at least in her mind - it was probably dreadfully swift and reckless to Matilda and Nessa) raised herself up onto one elbow with a wince and motioned for the Athelas infusion.

She mostly did it as her back was agony while laying down, it was horribly bruised from more than one slamming against a wall or the ground or another wall, so to get her weight off of it was a relief of some of the pain though she had no doubt that the movement would probably be seen as her not being completely there mentally, which was true, she had already forgotten that she'd been told to take it easy and was thanks to the soothing of her pounding head ache with the Athelas, debating on whether or not she could sit up fully, so far she wasn't entirely sure on that part. "Who was talking about make up?" She asked suddenly, her mind going a hundred ways at once, vaguely remembering something about cosmetics recently which seemed rather odd to her but perhaps she wasn't imagining things. She continued to sip at the Athelas slowly for it was helping her throat which had been craving water as well as her head which... Which seemed to think it was a trolls war drum the way it was pounding. It had been a giants war drum so she had to suppose that a troll ward rum was a vast improvement to that.

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The birthing room with @Winddancer

Being back in the Birthing room of Minas Tirith’s Houses of Healing after 7 years felt uncanny. Particularly since she was here as a midwife and not as a young frightened woman about to give birth for the first time. Nessa couldn’t help but wonder why Ioreth chose her, out of all the other healers in the study, to act as a midwife. Although traditionally, every female healer in Gondor was taught and trained in the arts of midwifery during their apprenticeship, not all of them actively practised that craft. The apprentices’ paths in the healing arts were heavily influenced by their mentors’; in addition to their personal preferences and (especially for the women) circumstances outside the Houses of Healing.

However, this wasn’t the first time Nessa helped a pregnant woman give birth; she acted as a midwife for her cousin’s wife Laila when she gave birth a few months ago. Still, this was the first time she was to act as a midwife in the Birthing chamber of this House and practice the craft she learned here. It was uncanny being on this side of childbirth, and despite the trepidation she felt when she entered the chamber, the company of the other women in addition to the routine tasks of preparing the room for the patient helped her. By the time Ioreth walked in with Liriel the apprehension had all but dissipated.

Ioreth held the heavily pregnant Liriel, helping the woman as they crossed the threshold. Racked by another contraction Liriel bent over screaming and cursing her husband for getting her into this position. The other women in the room exchanged knowing smiles; this was nothing unusual. Nessa approached the pair noticing how Liriel’s stomach was bigger than it should be. Ioreth did say that the woman’s past 5 pregnancies went without complication and that she gave birth to 5 big, healthy, lads… However, Ioreth seemed to be unperturbed by this development. But before the two healers could exchange words, Liriel’s water broke and the poor woman started to apologise.

“No need to apologise,” Nessa told her as she beckoned Bryony and Heather to come over. “Bryony and Heather will help you get to the bed and change,” she told Liriel who was trying to concentrate on her breathing to manage her pain and stop the rising panic. “Slow deep breaths now… That’s right, breath in through your nose. Pause, now exhale slowly through your mouth… You’re doing great Liriel!” She encouraged the woman as Bryony and Heather helped her walk, Heather’s arm rubbing Liriel’s back in a circular motion. She and Ioreth watched them as they went to wash their hands.

“She’s carrying twins, as you already noticed,” Ioreth told her as she washed her hands. “Boys by how she’s carrying.”
“I’ve never helped bring twins into the world” the young healer confessed quietly and bit her lower lip. As she took a towel to dry her hands she looked at Ioreth and continued. “I was never called to act as a midwife during my apprenticeship in the Houses, this would be my first time doing this here… I don’t know why you chose me of all people…”
“Because it is time for you to do it” Ioreth’s voice was quiet, but firm as she too dried her hands on a clean towel.
Nessa watched the elder healer and her eyes widened when she understood her meaning. “You know…” she breathed out.
“Yes, I know about your miscarriage” the older woman’s voice was filled with empathy, her eyes kind as she looked at the young healer before her. “It was kept quiet at Iris de Scardena’s request, but she informed me” she reached out and took the young healer’s hand. Nessa looked down and held the older woman’s hand tightly. “I cannot imagine how hard that was for you, how hard that pain still is for you… But you managed to find a way to live with that pain, and to come back to work at the Houses despite the echoes of memories…”

They were both quiet for a moment, Nessa at loss for words. Then she let go of Ioreth’s hand and looked up to the healer who was looking at her with such kindness and faith in her abilities. “Thank you,” she told Ioreth with a small but confident smile. “Thank you for everything. For pushing me, for believing in me, for helping me…”
Ioreth simply smiled and with a slight nod of her head, they both turned and went over to check on Liriel.

Bryony and Heather helped the grocer change out of her clothes to a simple white birthing gown. The gown was wide and comfortable, allowing the pregnant woman to move unrestricted. Instead of lying down on the bead, Liriel leaned on the footboard of the bed, panting and cussing at her husband between every contraction. A cold washcloth was placed around her shoulders, while a hot one was placed on her back to ease the pain.

“I’m going to check on your progress,” she told Liriel as she placed a comforting hand on her shoulders. The woman just nodded her head and Nessa moved and crouched down to check the cervical dilation. “Everything’s progressing nicely,” she told Liriel after a few moments. “Don’t worry, everything is fine,” she told Liriel after she got up. The woman looked slightly relieved by her words. “You still have a couple of hours left. If you want you can walk around the room, or lie down on the bed and rest if you want to” she said with an encouraging smile. “Do what feels best… If you want to scream and cuss your husband feel free to, don’t hold back. We’re all here for you to make this birth as easy as we can. We’ll get you and your boys on the other side safe and sound, don’t you worry.”



~*~



Treatment room – Nessa and NPC Matilda with @Fuin Elda

Nessa stood in front of the treatment table holding a mug of warm athelas infusion in her hand and observed Matilda who helped the elleth drink water. She noticed the small smile gracing her patient’s lips as she tasted the water from the cup and an answering smile appeared on her face. Glancing at the nurse she saw that she too was smiling at the elleth’s reaction. After she finished drinking the patient laid her head on the pillow and turned to watch the two of them

A lot. The elleth spoke Sindarin in a hoarse voice and Nessa’s eyebrow went up in an unspoken question. A small snort of laughter was followed by a groan and the patient continued speaking. – Definitely a lot of anodyne, at least once we figure out my head.

The healer and the nurse exchanged knowing glances at their patient’s wry humour. However, there was something in the elf-maid’s words or the tone of her voice that made Nessa think. The Quendi were an immortal race, their ages difficult to know, and the elleth lying on the treatment bed before her must have lived through many lives of men. She could have been alive during the Elder Days and seen things that were ancient history to the people of Gondor. Or she could have been born at the beginning of the Third Age… There was simply no way to know without asking, but the young healer had a feeling this was certainly not the first time that the elleth had been gravely injured like this, and she believed that the elf-maid knew her own body and its limits better than any human healer ever would.

And as if to prove her point the patient raised herself on to one elbow, wincing as she did so, and motioned to her to pass the mug with the athelas infusion which she did without comment. As the elleth slowly drank the infusion, Matilda looked at her questioningly, and Nessa simply shrugged and made a hand sign that signified soldier in explanation.

– Well you should know, you married one. – Matilda said in a low voice turning her eyes heavenwards as if asking of the Valar to give her patience in dealing with this foolishness. Nessa hid a grin behind her hand, although Matilda did have a point.

Who was talking about makeup? – The elleth suddenly asked and Nessa had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing.
– Are you in that much hurry to see your Prince Charming, milady? – Matilda said in Westron teasingly while the elf-maid continued to sip the athelas infusion. – Although, can you call him Prince Charming if you’re the one doing the rescuing? – The nurse said thoughtfully observing the elleth who was looking at her strangely. – What does that book of yours say on the matter, hælend?
I will have to see and let you know. – Nessa replied in Sindarin after she took a few moments to compose herself.
- Please do, hælend, it is of utmost importance. – The nurse said mock seriously while she filled the mug with water. – I’m only jesting milady, but in all seriousness, you should drink more fluids. And you should listen to your healer and nurse when they tell you not to move quickly. – She chastised the patient. – This one – she said motioning to Nessa. – Has a good head on her shoulders, so if you listen to her you’ll be on your way to see your Prince Charming in no time. – Matilda said with a grin and winking at Nessa who was struggling to keep her composure walked over to the work desk to prepare another athelas infusion for the patient.

She might be jesting, but she’s not wrong.Nessa spoke in Sindarin to the elleth after a while. – I’m aware that you know your body and its limits better than I or any human healer every will. Still, you were gravely injured and you need to take care so your body can heal properly. – She paused for a moment to observe her patient’s condition. The athelas infusion seemed to be helping since the patient appeared to be more focused. – I don’t know if you heard or understood when I first spoke to you, but my name is Nessa. If you’re finished with your tea, drink that mug of water and I’ll have a look at your eyes and give you something for the pain.


OOC: ((sorry for being so sluggish this week, adjusting to work after 2 weeks of staycation and the additional stress of crazy over new COVID measures in Croatia didn't help matters))
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Afird Splitaxe

Reception

Afird stumbled into the infirmary. He had a gash on his forehead that gushed a profuse amount of blood. Ai, he had consumed a fair amount of ale upon arriving in the Stone City - and dancing on the table top was a good trick when one had not consumed a tray full of ale and travelled for months with little repose.
Not sure how to present himself, and concerned about his pack left behind at the ale house, Afird stood with blood dripping from his nose and said, " can someone help me please!"
Last edited by Drifa on Tue Dec 01, 2020 2:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Master Healer Pele Alarion
Reception, seeing Afird


Lost deep in thoughts, Pele entered from the garden, carrying... nothing. She had gone out meaning to do some work out there and ended up just sitting under a tree for a good long while. Eventually she decided that she would be of more use inside the Houses, she was returning indoors.

She noticed Afird, when she had almost run into him, and came to an abrupt stop some two feet from him, glancing him over.

"What has happened, master Dwarf?" she asked, motioning for him to come with her. "It seems that you are in need of some quick treatment. I am healer Pele Alarion," she then introduced herself to give him a substantial reason to follow her to one of the treatment rooms which would hold the supplies to take care of his injury. "How may I call you and what is the cause of your injury?"


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Treatment room – Fuin with @Nessa Saelind and NPC Matilda

Fuin did her best at first not to blurt out the first things that came to her mind while listening the Healer and the nurse talk about, someones husband, not hers that was for certain so one of their husbands. She couldn't help but chuckle at Matilda's comment about rushing to rescue her prince charming though that brought a groan from her and she set the tea down half finished to gingerly put her hand to her ribs. She was certain at worst they were cracked rather than fully broken. "Oh nurse, you are swift of wit, and I should think I"d enjoy that more if my ribs didn't hurt so much ever time you made me laugh." She let out a little sharp breath not even realizing she'd been holding it for a moment to give her sore ribs a moments rest from constant movement. She winced and picked up the Athelas again and sipped some more down, she decided she'd get a right reprimanding if she tried to sit up fully. She knew she'd reprimand any soldier under her care. Healers. They were the worst to tend, far worse than soldiers, and she was doing her best to let these healers do their jobs without countering anything they said. She was... in comparisonto what she would do in Rivendell under those she taught to heal, being a model patient despite having propped herself up on her elbow for the time being.

"I don't think his bones would care how I look, he was buried long ago on a peak on the Isle of Balar. I am not sure I could get there at all in my condition. He's been there since the third kinslaying, so I'm afraid I was not so good at rescuing him, and he was skilled enough he should have been able to save himself so what good I'd have been back then would have been little." She said with chuckle. The grief of that loss was so far removed now that there was no pang in her heart anymore at the thought of him lying buried beneath the tall Cairn that Aigronding had erected for him... The least Fuin thought he could do given the fact that he'd run him through. She let out a slight sigh, a smile on her face at the memory of Afarfin and his bright eyes and half grin ever sure of himself. "I promise I shall do my best to be a good patient, I am not one generally though, Master Elrond has had more than ones set of words with me I'm afraid." She said hoping she'd not utterly mortified poor Matilda with her comment about her prince charming, she probably had. She sipped her tea finishing it off and handing the mug back to Matilda to let her escape away from the horribly open elleth she had failed horribly at not blurting out the first thing that came to her mind after only a few moments.

"So I wasn't moving as slow as I felt I was that's good I suppose in one way, bad in another." She muttered "It is good to meet you Nessa, I am afraid to report that I don't think I caught your name while I was trying to bring the world back into some sort of focus just the tone of your voice and how calming it was and for that I thank you." She said nodding realizing the healer was speaking in her native tongue and being very very serious and so Fuin tried to be serious as well "I should very much like to be off my ribs for a bit they are tender and my arm is getting tired of holding me up. If you can help me sit so I can drink the water, it will likely be safer than me doing that myself, Elrond would really have words with me if he found out I gave the House of Healing in Gondor too much trouble." She said with a small smile.

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Afird Splitaxe

Reception, seeing Master Healer Pele Alarion

Afird stumbled back a few steps as he felt the movement of someone suddenly stopping abruptly in front of him. He looked up and saw a tall female looking down at him. She introduced herself as Master Healer Pele Alarion and motioned for him to follow her enquiring what name she may call him. With blood still dripping from the tip of his nose, he proceeded to do so, but not necessarily in a straight line.

His attempt to bow in response to the healer's question, had him reaching for the wall to steady himself from a fall and an awkward " fird Spltax at your serbice!" coming out of his mouth as a result. He straighten himself up and shook his head to clear it. But the cut on his forehead ache like the dickens and blood painted the wall and floor around him. "Oi, my head!' he moaned as he entered another room. Pausing to gain some equilibrium, he put a hand on the wall to steady himself and responded to the second part of the tall women's question.

"Ai, I habe just arribed in this fair city from a long a hard journey. I guess I was a little to enthusiastic with the ale, but Mahal! it sure was going down good." A wide grin spread under the dwarf's blood stained nose. " I had the barmaid, well I think it was the barmaid, dancing on the table with me last thing I remember before arribing here at this good establishment. I must of fell off and knocked my head. Blood had been spouting out a little to much for my liking. Can you fix me up? Where are we again? "

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Treatment room – Nessa and NPC Matilda with @Fuin Elda

As she watched the elleth chuckle at her quip about Prince Charming and then promptly wince because of her cracked ribs, Matilda decided right then and there that she would not apologise for making the injured elf-maid laugh. It was good hearing her laugh, seeing life and joy in her eyes, although laughing must have hurt like hell at the moment. Meanwhile, it looked like the elf-maid decided to indulge them and listen to their perfectly reasonable instructions and stay put and drink the athelas infusion.

Still, the elleth managed to surprise her when she spoke of her husband? Love of her life? Heart’s gleam? Significant other? Matilda was uncertain what term to use for the person, an elf if she understood her patient correctly, whom the elleth had loved and lost in the Elder Days of the world. She looked more melancholic than grief-stricken at the memory, but Matilda supposed she would after so many centuries had passed. The elleth made her peace with a life without him. Glancing at Nessa she noticed that the young healer was deeply affected by the elleth’s story, although she hid it well.

The two women had not known each other long, having only recently met when the nurse was assigned to take care of two patients that the young healer had treated upon her return from Pelargir. Nonetheless, they quickly became friends and although Nessa was more reserved and “quiet” of the two, she had eventually opened up to Matilda and spoke about her past. The War and its aftermath had separated Nessa from her husband, but he had recently returned from his sojourn in the Brown Lands and managed to reconcile with his wife. As she watched the young healer’s strenuous efforts to remain relaxed, Matilda knew that a part of her mind was reliving her worst fears.

Before taking the mug from the elf-maid she gently touched Nessa’s arm, reminding her of the here and now. She felt the healer shiver, but she still smiled gratefully at the nurse. She glanced at the elleth and the look on her face made her smile. Their patient must have thought that her openness mortified them when nothing could be further from the truth. As she walked over to prepare another athelas infusion she didn’t bother hiding her grin. She liked the nameless elleth and she wondered if she was always like this, or did the head wound had something to do with it. Either way, she was looking forward to talking to her and teasing her, even though the elf-maid could be her great-great-great-grandmother many times over.

Meanwhile, Nessa had managed to push the unexpected effect the elleth’s story about her beloved to the back of her mind and focus on her wish to sit. She observed the patient with a critical healer’s eye and couldn’t help but smile when the elf-maid mentioned that the Queen’s father, Lord Elrond, would berate her for not being a model patient. She observed her patient for a few moments in silence judging the effect that the athelas infusion and additional fluid had. Noting with satisfaction that the patient seemed more stable she moved over to her and slowly and carefully helped get in a seated position making sure she didn’t irritate any of her patient’s wounds.

I’m sorry about your clothes – she said apologetically as she covered the elleth’s legs with a white cotton sheet. – I had to cut them to clean and bandage the laceration on your leg. We have clean clothes that will fit you here in the Houses. Unfortunately, the only colours we have available are the various shades of grey – she said with a quirk of her lips. She turned around to see if Matilda finished making the second batch of athelas infusion and signalled her to bring the vial with anodyne along with the mug of athelas.

Matilda poured the infusion into a large clean mug and taking the vial with anodyne she walked over to the treatment table. She passed the vial to Nessa who took the ewer with water poured it into a mug and opened the vial and added a few drops of anodyne to the water and stirred.

I mixed a concoction of milk of the poppy and other herbs – she said as she handed the mug to the elleth. – The dosage is low for now, but it should numb the pain. If you don’t feel dizzy or nauseous after I will give you more so you can rest. Or take a bath and change into clean clothes.
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Treatment room – Fuin with @Nessa Saelind and NPC Matilda

It was not the nurse that reacted to her words but the Healer she would have to keep that in mind. The Nurse on the other hand seemed quite entertained by her and she could not help but give a grin at the two even as Nessa apologized about her clothing.

"IF I remember right, and I may very well not be, I did take a few blows to my head..." She paused and happily sipped at the anodyne laced water. "They were pretty much ruined before I got here so white sheets is undoubtedly an improvement over what I was wearing. As will a monotone assortment of new clothing even if I do look like those stodgy Galadhrim Elves." She said as seriously as she could, though her face made it plain as day that she was joking. She had nothing against the Galadhrim but they did tend to wear very muted tones and their cloaks were always grey and very very boring "Not that us Nandor are much better we tend to do greens and browns though." She said calmly finishing off the concoction given to her a bit quicker than perhaps she should have

It's effects were swift and she did not like it at all, the healer and the nurses only warning was a slight sway and Fuin, though she hadn't given them her name eyeballing a bowl that she debated on leaping towards and grabbing but decided against as she probably would end up face planting as her legs felt weak and wobbly though she wasn't sure it that was from the anodyne or the concussion at the moment. "Bow-" She didn't even get to finish saying bowl before the pristine white sheet was no longer pristine and her head was once again absolutely throbbing to the point she pressed her hand against the wounds on her face heedless of the pain that was causing the one in her head was so bad.

"I have to admit I want that bath regardless I'm afraid - even if this is a bad sign." She said weakly rather unhappy about this development, she wasn't terribly shocked. Her eyes were winced shut tightly as she tried to bring the splitting headache back under control. She was hoping that part of it was drinking too many liquids to swiftly after not drinking for so long but she had a bad feeling that could at best only account for part of the issue.

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Pele, dealing with Afird's bleeding
Treatment Room


"Fird?" she repeated to store the name in her memory.

The Dwarf left a trail of blood behind him as they finally made it to the treatment room. Things like that happened now and then, and more likely than not it would be cleaned up sooner rather than later. She was more concerned about Afird's well-being, as the bleeding didn't seem to show signs of stopping any time soon.

"Well... do lay down on the cot, and I will see what I can do about that head of yours," Pele urged her patient, placing a hand on his shoulder to guide him in the correct direction and provide support should he be drawn more towards floor than the cot.

"It seems that even stout Dwarves are not immune to the effect of copious amounts of ale," she observed, a grin playing on her lips. "You are at the Houses of Healing, the best place to get fixed," she assured him. "But someone must have guided you here, if you don't remember coming. Which is quite good as you wouldn't want to bleed out in the pub, hmm?"

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Treatment room – Nessa and NPC Matilda with @Fuin Elda

Both the nurse and the healer observed the patient who, at first, slowly drank the anodyne concoction. The elleth was in fine spirits, jesting about the choices of garment colours of the various elf groups. It all went downhill from there. The elf-maid downed the rest of the anodyne like it was a shot of travarica. Nessa’s eyebrow shot up in surprise and for a fleeting moment, she toyed with the thought that instead of preparing the anodyne she should have just poured a shot of travarica and handed that to the elleth.

Their patient swayed slightly and before the elf-maid could finish her utterance or she and Matilda move to assist, the elleth emptied the meagre content of her stomach on the sheets. As their patient groaned and pressed her hands to her face the healer and nurse exchanged knowing looks. Nausea could have been caused by the anodyne, either the combination herbs or their dosage could have been wrong; perhaps their patient simply had a reaction to one of the ingredients. However, it was more likely that the nausea was induced by moving to an upright position rather quickly considering the head injury.

– I have to admit I want that bath regardless I’m afraid – even if this is a bad sign. – The elleth said unhappily.
– For the love of… – Matilda spoke in Westron moving over to the treatment table to remove the soiled sheet. – You ain’t dying Revered Grandmother! – She told the elleth as she carefully removed the soiled sheet and wrapped it up tightly before putting it on the floor. – You moved too quickly in your condition and knocking off the anodyne like it was a dram of whiskey sure didn’t help things. You’re supposed to be wiser than that Grandmother! What am I going to do with you, huh?
For the moment our Revered Grandmother... – Nessa spoke in Sindarin her tone stern, but a quirk of her lips and a glint in her eye betrayed her. – Is going to close her eyes and lie down. I’m going to put a cold compress on her face while you wash your hands. Please make some mint tea and set up a cot nearby so we can transfer or patient there before I go get Grace to clean this up...

Matilda nodded and went to do as she was bid, while Nessa helped the elleth to lie down. Then she moved away from the table to get the basin in which Matilda crushed the athelas leaves. The water was lukewarm now, which would do nicely. Before she took the basin back to the treatment table she walked over to the shelves to find the bottle containing lavender oil. When she found it, she placed it the pocket of her uniform and returned to her patient basin in hand. She placed it down, found a clean cloth, placed it into the basin with the athelas infusion and wrung it out. She then carefully started cleaning the elleth’s face. – It’s alright. Just relax. – She spoke in Sindarin as she carefully moved the cloth around her patient’s face, her voice soothing and filled with warmth. – Nausea is a usual symptom with head injuries – she spoke as she placed the damp washcloth next to the basin and took the cold compress and placed it gently on her patient’s forehead. She heard a slight sigh of relief from the elleth and she smiled as she slowly moved the cold compress around her patient’s face. – You’ll just have to be mindful of your movements for the next couple of days. Remember, slow and steady wins the race.

After a while, she put the cold compress down, took the bottle with the lavender oil from her pocket and opened it. She carefully poured a couple of drops in the palm of her hand and with the other hand closed the bottle. With a therapist’s swipe, she spread the oil on her hands and then she carefully started to massage the elleth’s head, focusing on the temples and making sure to avoid the cuts on her face as much as she could. A gentle massage always helped her to relieve the pain when she suffered from one of her migraine spells, and she hoped it would help the elleth as well. The lavender oil would soothe her. – I know you’d rather be anywhere but here, but don’t make your condition worse by hurrying to get better.

She was quiet after that, listening to the elleth’s breathing and the background noises of the room. Matilda finished preparing the cot and after washing her hands she poured mint tea she prepared earlier into another clean mug and taking a clean basin she walked over to the treatment table.

– If you’re feeling up to it, I brought mint tea and a clean basin so you can rinse your mouth – she told her patient and then looked at Nessa. – Go get Grace. I’ll take care of our mettlesome Grandmother – she said teasingly. – I’ll even solemnly swear not to make her laugh... Too much. Go! – The nurse made a shooing motion with her hand and Nessa couldn’t help but smile as she turned and quickly exited the treatment room. She knew that their patient was safe under Matilda’s care.

Meanwhile, Matilda placed the clean basin next to the patient who was still lying down with her eyes closed. – Let me know when you’re ready Revered Grandmother and I’ll help you up – the nurse’s said quietly in the Common Speech, her voice more serious, but still containing a hint of teasing. – Remember, slow and steady. Emphasis on slow – she said with a quirk of her lips.
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Afird Splitaxe

Treatment Room: with Master Healer @Pele Alarion

Allowing himself to be lead to a cot and helped on to it, Afird was glad that he had fallen on it and not the floor. As he lay there, the world spun around for a time until he closed his eyes. Then, colors not even found in the rainbow danced about on his closed eyelids in a psychedelic frenzy. They were pretty. Wiggling his nose to relieve an itch, he felt the dried blood on his nose crack and fall upon his cheek. Opening his eyes a slit, he saw the healer, Pele, looking at him. She was pretty too. Then the world began to spin again and he closed his eyes once more and watched the colors dart about whilst listening to the healers healing voice and responding to her enquirers.

'Aye, we dwarves can usually drink a fellow under the table, even from a boot! I do remember the barmaid giving me directions to this fine establishment, but then again, it all seems like a dream. The spouting blood, my long journey from the Blue Mountains, and the pain in my neck from my heavy pack,' he paused suddenly, then rising in alarm from the cot cried out, 'my pack, my pack!'; then fell back as the world spun dangerously. 'Ohhh," he moaned. 'All my worldly possessions are in it. Do you think it will be safe whilst I lay here for a time under your healing hands? '

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Treatment room – Fuin with @Nessa Saelind and NPC Matilda

Grandmother? Fuin looked at the two of them and lifted an eyebrow and shook her head. "You are both cruel and unusual. I will have to adopt some of these methods with those I heal in the Last Homely House." She muttered as they mocked her for being upset about losing the solely liquid contents of her stomach. "Revered Grandmother - Valar above if Elrond or Aigronding heard anyone calling me of all people revered or Grandmother." She DID however obey Nessa in laying back down with her eyes shut. The darkness of her eyes being shut did help the throbbing pain in her head. And honestly there hadn't been THAT much Anodyne left in the cup, she'd sipped most of it down previous to finishing it off. She debated on whether or not it was the sharper movement of the last drink that had set her off. Or perhaps a mix of both the head wound and the Anodyne.

"I mean I suppose you're right, if I haven't died already from these wounds I most certainly am not dying." Fuin said with a slight twitch to her mouth after all she was an elf they were immortal so Nessa was entirely right. The Revered Grandmother was not in fact dying and that she needed to take it slow and steady humored her. "But I do not remember being transformed into a tortoise in Mordor." She said softly as Nessa put the cool compress on her face helping to calm the constant pain in her head before she began massaging with lavender. "Unless only tortoises get lavender massages.... Then I most certainly was." She said softly, for all of her joking she did have to agree that she would have to be very very mindful of her movements, and how much she drank and ate and how she drank and ate not terribly wanting to throw up in front of someone again. She hadn't done that since the First Age, which she had thrown up out of nerves and the shear relief of being alive after her first battle and killing and almost being killed. It had been as horrible then as it was now, though at least Nessa and Matilda were healers and knew what this was not trained soldiers. Not warriors that she looked up to. With those thoughts she went very very quiet and also had to keep her breathing even and fight against the tears and shame of that first battle she'd been in. She'd almost gotten at least one kinsman killed in that fight, thought Beleg had reprimanded another soldier that had made torn strips from her at her freezing up at the beginning of the fight and remind him that he HAD actually frozen up so badly in his first fight someone had actually died it was something that bothered her to this day and perhaps why she was always so likely to barrel into a fight weapons first. She would not be frozen in fear again. She worked hard on concentrating on the soft sound of Nessas breathing, a the sound of patients being treated near by people walking anything and everything but where her mind had gone thanks to throwing up.

What a silly thing to trigger such dark memories she mentally chided herself, only to hear Matilda return and offer to help her move to the cot, and clean her mouth before giving her some mint tea. She slipped on eye open and looked up at Matilda she caught the tone and couldn't help but smirk. "Alright sweet baby grandchild, the revered grandmother thinks she's ready to sit up very slowly." She said with a bit of a chuckle. Honestly compared to Fuin, Matilda and Nessa both would be considered babies compared to her, youth at best by elven standards in their age, yet they were both kind and and knowledgeable. Once she was up she happily rinsed out her mouth, fortunately it was a mixture of athelas, and anodyne mostly that had come up and a bit of water, it was all very very watery so it wasn't the worst thing to throw up... it just made the sheet she was on horrifically wet and fairly useless. She honestly didn't remember the last time she'd had something solid to eat. Perhaps after she'd rested for a day or so on more liquids she'd see about something solid. She didn't really want to throw up partially digested solid foods, it was bad enough throwing up liquids with the concussion she had.

"So I heard there was a cot, do I get to tortoise my way to it for a nap that I'll get poked awake from regularly?" She asked with a small smile at Matilda, she was serious though making light of the instructions.

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Master Healer Pele with Afird (@Drifa)
Treatment Room

Pele observed Afird with a certain amount of concern, though she spoke to him in a light-hearted manner. He appeared too dazed for her liking.

"Careful, my dear Dwarf," she called out, reaching out to keep him from rising though it was rather unnecessary. "I will take care of your wound, and perhaps you should rest here for a while afterwards. I cannot quite make out how much of the dizziness is simply from ale, and how much of it is due to your injury."

Hearing about his pack, Pele frowned a bit. While most people were honest, some thief might figure it could be taken.

"I could send down one of the apprentices to collect your pack and bring it here," she suggested, while busying herself with making warm soap water in a bowl. She seriously intended to make Afird stay for at least a few hours, if not for a day. "Then you would have your possessions safe and with you here until you can be released. It does no good to have you worry. Where did you leave it exactly, so I can describe it for picking up?"

As she spoke and then waited for the description of the required belongings, Pele soaked a clean cloth in the water and gently began cleaning, starting from the Dwarf's nose and moving towards the source of the blood.
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Treatment room – NPC Matilda with @Fuin Elda

Matilda stood next to the treatment table while she waited for the elleth to signal that she was ready to get up. The nurse observed the elf-maid and she had to admit that the elleth handled the whole situation and the nurse’s teasing with good humour. Although, the look on the elf-maid’s face when she called her Revered Grandmother was a priceless memory that she would treasure forever. From the elleth’s reaction, it was apparent that this was the first time anyone has called her grandmother. She had decided to call the unnamed elleth grandmother out of respect, not just to tease her. Although, she did enjoy seeing the elf-maid’s reactions to said teasing.

– Alright sweet baby grandchild – the patient’s voice interrupted her musings and Matilda smiled widely. – The revered grandmother thinks she’s ready to sit up very slowly.

She helped the elleth sit up and unobtrusively observed the patient as she rinsed her mouth; ready to help if her assistance was needed. As far as she knew elves weren’t affected by illness the same way humans were, and perhaps they considered nausea as a form of weakness in their culture. Matilda almost rolled her eyes at the thought. If they did, someone needed to collectively acquaint them with the realities of the menstrual cycle. That thought did make her smile.

– So I heard there was a cot, do I get to tortoise my way to it for a nap that I’ll get poked awake from regularly? – The elleth asked with a smile trying to make light of the situation and Matilda chuckled slightly.
– Yes, there’s a cot ready along with a change of clothes – Matilda informed the elf-maid. – And you can even take a nap if you feel you need one, Grandmother – the nurse told her with a smile. – Please, allow me to assist you in your, how did you phrase it? Ah, tortoise your way to it.

With extreme care and gentleness, Matilda helped the elleth get up from the treatment table and they slowly walked over to the cot. During their short wayfare, the nurse watched her patient like a mother hen watching her chicks; monitoring for any signs of vertigo, nausea or pain in general. They reached their destination without incident and Matilda helped the elleth settle down. The nurse reached for the stone grey linen tunic she found in one of the dressers where they kept towels, sheets and linen. The long-sleeved tunic was wide and would likely reach the elleth’s knees.

A soft knock on the door made Matilda turn around, tunic in hand. The door opened slightly, and Grace poked her head through.
– ‘Tilda it’s me, Grace – the teen called. – Mistress de Argosy sent me, may I come in?
– Aye – the nurse replied as she stood up. The teen opened the door fully and entered carrying a linen basket under her arm. A wooden bucket filled with warm water and the distinctive smelling cleaning solution stood next to the door.
– Need any help with that? – Matilda asked the teen who shook her head.
– No ‘Tilda, it’s fine, this won’t take long. – Grace replied as she brought everything to the treatment table. – You don’t mind if I open the window? – The teen asked a bit awkwardly. – I know the scent – she continued gesturing to the wooden bucket. – Isn’t the most pleasant thing in the world, and it didn’t agree with mistress de Argosy last time… Sorry, I really shouldn’t be saying this…
– It’s alright, Grace – the nurse told the flustered teen knowing the reason behind Nessa’s reaction. – Go open the windows, a bit of fresh air will do us good – she told the girl with a kind smile.

The girl nodded and went about her work while Matilda turned over to the elleth who was watching them curiously.

– Well, you’ve met Grace, Grandmother – she told the patient as she unfolded the tunic. – If you’ll allow me I’d like to help you get out of those torn garments. I know you said you wanted a bath, and we’ll get to it once you don’t feel like a cave troll is spinning you around for the giggles. So let’s call this a transition step shall we?
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Liriel - Giving birth

Each breath out was accompanied by a low pained groan and each breath in was hissed through clenched teeth. The woman's soothing directions helped a little, though at times she had to stop herself from snapping at the woman and yelling that she WAS breathing! Liriel took another hissed deep breath instead, grunting out the breath after trying to hold it for the suggested amount of time.

The two women waited until the contraction stopped, but as soon as it was over they quickly changed her into a more fitting gown. The cool and hot cloths did wonders for the aches and she was relieved when Nessa was done with the examination. It never stopped to amaze her how these healers seemed to know how far she was into the labor just by feeling around down there. However the news of it still being a few hours away was immediately accompanied by a pained "What!!?" as another contration had her howling out her pain as she leaned her head on her arms as they gripped the end of the bed. Hours!!?? It felt like she was close to needing to push!

As the contraction finally subsided she managed to take a few breaths before she demanded "And how do you know it is twins?? Are you saying i am going to have to give birth to two? Do they come out at the same time?? I don't think I can push two out at the same time!! I could barely push the last one out he was so big! Are you sure he isn't just a big un??" Before she could ask any more questions another contraction had her leaning back on her arms and howling in pain again. "AAaaaaahhh!!"

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Treatment room – Fuin with NPC Matilda @Nessa Saelind

The move from the table to the cot was a slow one and Fuin did limp notably to the cot, her leg paining with each step, the adrenaline from the fight now long gone and now all that was left was the damage to the muscles and the skin that hurt with each step and she was grateful to be at the cot sot hat she didn't need to stand. She looked at Matilda.

"I still really really want that bath but I suppose." She gave a chuckle "I can live with this tunic being a step between the ripped clothing and the bath you young whippersnapper." She said and she happily let Matilda help her strip out of the last of the shredded clothing, there was not much left of them the shirt torn open the leg of her pants cut off. She looked at them they were ruined utterly and there would be no saving them, in the process scars of long healed wounds were made visible, though most were neat and tidy hardly noticeable there was one that was terrible, and to a healer would show as scars upon scars were the elleth was cut open repeatedly, though by now it too seemed long healed despite its terrible look. It was a wound that should have and nearly did kill Fuin years ago, and a seasoned healer might guess what would cause an elf to be cut into a multitude of times so close to ones heart to save their lives. The tunic slipped over her head without Fuin casting a glance at Matilda who was helping her get the tunic over her head and was quite long but it was a bit above her knees she stood taller, than many of the healers and nurses in this house. "No pants. I feel like if I were not concussed and limited by a cut leg I feel like me being pantless could be hilarious and dangerous." She said with a chuckled.

Grace for her part was busy cleaning and Fuin for her part once she had been changed and gingerly gotten down onto the cot she watched Grace cleaning. The smell was, it was strong enough and she had a feeling if she had too much in her stomach it would probably bother her too even with the windows open, though she had a feeling, given the motions and the flustering, that it was not a concussion that had made Nessa ill from what Grace and Matilda were saying, or more so not saying.

"Well sweet baby grandchild, I do think I will be having a nap, as good of one as I can have with a concussion." SHe let Matilda help her to lay back down after the issue with the pain killers and groaned at the pressure on the bruised ribs and let out a little sigh as she got use to the constant pressure on the damaged ribs though she wasn't having any real trouble breathing . "Just no poking the revered grandmother in the ribs to wake her up." She said with a small smile shutting one eye looking at Matilda with one eye making sure she wasn't going to poke revered grandmother. "Revered grandmother has been in too many fights and that could be dangerous." She said she wasn't overly joking about that though, she was at least hurting enough she'd be slowed down but it could also mean that her body might react before her mind could catch up since it was injured perhaps more than her body was.

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Afird Splitaxe

Treatment Room: with Master Healer @Pele Alarion

Afird allowed himself to be gently push back down onto the cot. The soothing voice and kind words of Pele, the healer, reassured him. Besides, the world had begun to spin again and now, as he lay there with eyes closed, he wondered if his head injury was more serious than he thought. Surely the alcohol must have worn off by now?? The whole incident seem like days ago, or did it just seem that way? As he felt the warm cloth on his face, carefully wiping, he began to describe his pack as per the healer's request.

'It would be wonderful if someone could fetch my pack for me. It sure would take a load off my already weary mind. I remember letting it drop , my tired neck rejoicing, near a table by the back wall. My pack is HUGE (so says my sore neck) and looks quite weather stained, but still in good shape (no rips or holes).' He paused for a moment, a slight frown creasing his brow, then continued. 'Now that is where I remember putting it. But then the drinking and the dancing started and I am not sure if it got pushed under the table or over towards another table.'

A sudden tiredness came over him then, and his head began to play a dull drum beat. Opening his eyes a peek, he looked at Pele with concern showing in his eyes. 'Do you think I injured my head more than just gashing it? I have always been told I had a hard head.' Putting a wary hand up to his forehead, he snorted. ' It feels more like a bowl of jelly at the moment. Should I sleep?'

Suddenly the dwarf's eyes opened very wide. His face became very pale (due to the fact that he felt sure he was going to be sick and the embarrassment of not being able to control himself). Turning on his side, he moved his head the best he could so that his aim was not on the cot, and croaked. 'Do you have a bucket? Is it really close by, urp, cause I am not sure I can wait! Ooooo!'

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The birthing room with @Winddancer

As soon as Liriel’s contraction subsided Nessa understood why Ioreth described the grocer as a “chatty lass if I ever met one”.

“And how do you know it is twins? Are you saying I am going to have to give birth to two? Do they come out at the same time? I don’t think I can push two out at the same time!! I could barely push the last one out he was so big! Are you sure he isn’t just a big un?” Liriel fired the questions at her without a pause for breath and Nessa could only blink surprised by the feet. The break of the rapid-fire questions was provided courtesy of another contraction that had the poor woman howling in pain.

As Nessa rubbed the woman’s lower back she kept reminding her to focus on her breathing so she could endure the pain. She was aware that she was most likely annoying Liriel with that after all this was not her first birth, but breathing exercises tended to go out the window when the pain from the contractions had you bending over and wishing that the child would just get out of your womb and let you rest. Ioreth and Matilda came over to her, the old healer swiftly putting a new hot cloth on Liriel’s lower back and placing a fresh and cool cloth over her shoulders. When the contraction passed Matilda wiped Liriel’s face and then gave her a mug of cold lemonade to drink.

“You asked how did we know you’re carrying twins?” Ioreth picked up the conversation as Liriel drank the offered lemonade. “I was there for all of your pregnancies my dear, and I mean no disrespect, but you’ve gained more weight than in all your previous pregnancies. And if I was to take a measuring tape your measurements would be larger” the old healer patiently explained. “Besides, if you don’t trust my experience, Gellir said you were two weeks early and that boy’s never gotten his numbers wrong.”

Nessa watched as Liriel absorbed this information and was not surprised that she looked slightly shocked. Twin pregnancies were rare and carried higher risks, but Ioreth was an experienced healer and excellent midwife. The young healer had the utmost faith in her and she knew that Ioreth would go above and beyond to make sure both mother and children survived. So she took Liriel’s arm and helped her straighten up.

“Come, let’s walk together around the room a bit,” she told the frightened woman. “I know you know this, but as they say gravity is your friend,” she said with a smile and with great effort the grocer somehow managed to smile back. “The babes won’t come at the same time” Nessa continued as she got Liriel to walk slowly around the bed in small circles. The woman leaned heavily on her, but she didn’t mind. “One will get our first, and after a couple of minutes, it could be five or twenty, you will feel the need to push again and we’ll deliver the second one.” She squeezed the woman’s hand in support. “I know you’re frightened and worried and you probably want to scream at your husband and bite my head off at the same time,” Nessa said with a small smile remembering how she felt when she was giving birth to Ellin. “I won’t sugar-coat things for you, it won’t be easy and it will hurt. But as soon as you have your babies in your arms you’ll forget everything and it will be worth it.”



*~*



Treatment room – NPC Matilda and with @Fuin Elda

The move from the treatment table to the cot might have drained the elleth, however, it did not affect her sense of humour as she continued to jest. Matilda was careful as she helped the elleth remove the ruined clothes, making sure (as much as she could) that the elleth made no sudden movements. In addition to the fresh bruises the nurse took note of the myriad of scars on the elleth’s body; most of them were faded, neatly healed. However, one particularly terrible stood out. The nurse’s face was neutral, she made no remark, although both she and the patient were aware of the scar and that it had a story to tell. Matilda was aware that she often pushed boundaries, but she knew that you never ask a person about their scars. If the elleth wanted to tell her, she would. In her own time, in her own words.

– No pants. I feel like if I were not concussed and limited by a cut leg me being pantless could be hilarious and dangerous – the elleth remarked and Matilda tilted her head slightly, arching her eyebrow in question. There was a story there, deliciously interesting (she felt that in her bones) and she was going to weasel it out of the Revered Grandmother one way or another. Along with her name, although calling the elleth grandmother was pleasantly entertaining.

Said Revered Grandmother announced that she would be taking that nap now that she was all settled and Matilda helped her settle in, trying to be as careful and gentle as she could. Still, there was no helping the elleth’s bruised ribs, not without an analgesic, but the elleth had reacted to their last attempts, so it was better to wait than cause additional problems

– Just no poking revered grandmother in the ribs to wake her up – the elleth warned her, smiling and Matilda smiled back fighting the urge to put her hand on her heart and solemnly swear that she would not. – Revered grandmother has been in too many fights and that could be dangerous.
– Don’t worry Lady Grandmother, I solemnly swear that I won’t be poking you – the nurse replied with a grin placing her hand on her heart. – If you need to be wakened up, Nessa will do the honours. After all – she said with a mischievous smile. – The fair hælend has more experience than I in waking up soldiers. I suppose being married to one does that – she said with a chuckle.
– ‘Tilda! – Grace exclaimed as she closed the windows, slightly shocked by the exchange.

The nurse fixed the covers on the cot, making sure that her patient was as comfortable as she could be. – Rest now Lady Grandmother – she told the elleth. – Your sleep won’t be disturbed. Well, if you disregard the background noises of me and Grace here, and Nessa when she returns. Knowing her, she got held up in the kitchen making you something to eat. Honestly, I wouldn’t even be surprised if she walked in through the door carrying a plate filled with some elvish food.

With a quick glance to make sure she’d done everything for the patient she got up and walked over to help Grace. Seeing that the teen was still shocked by the exchange she witnessed, Matilda reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder.
– Nessa doesn’t mind being teased – she said quietly to the girl. – If she was here when I said that she would be struggling not to laugh. – She noticed that the teen struggled to reconcile this image of Nessa with what she saw and knew of the healer and Matilda had to smile. – Just trust me on this.

The teen nodded and the two fell into a comfortable silence as they cleaned and tidied the rest of the room. As Grace washed the used cups and bowls, using up almost all of the hot water from the cauldron, Matilda used the last bits to fill a small bowl in which she crushed some dried athelas. As its healing smell filled the room again Grace finished her cleaning and Matilda helped her, she carried the linen basket with the soiled sheets while Grace carried the wooden bucket. Grace opened the door to find Nessa in front of them carrying a tray filled with food and under it, something carefully wrapped in cloth.

– What on Arda? – Matilda muttered quietly as she and Grace stepped aside so the healer can enter and carry the tray and the wrapped item under it to the now cleared work desk. After helping Grace she quickly returned to the treatment room and walked over to the working desk. Nessa was sitting on the chair, going over a book and glancing at their patient who appeared to be asleep for the time being. Matilda looked at over at the tray with food and smiled with approval. There were small bowls filled with a mixture of nuts, dried cranberries and raisins on the tray along with a plate with salty crescent rolls sprinkled with sesame and if she was not mistaken, the famous fig cake from the Ethir Anduin region.

– Is that hib? – The nurse asked looking at the healer in astonishment.
– Hmmm, yes – Nessa replied focused on whatever passage in the book. – One of the cooks is from Pelargir – she offered in lieu of an explanation and finally looked up at her. – Ah, sorry. I was reading the instructions for preparing anodyne in De Materia Medica.
– That’s what held you up! And here I was telling our Revered Grandmother you were making her some elvish food in the kitchen.
Nessa laughed, covering her mouth with her had in an attempt to be quiet. She looked at the elleth and after a moment said – I take it she didn’t give you a name?
– No – the nurse replied. – And I have no problems calling her grandmother in front of all and sundry.
– Of course you don’t – the healer replied with a smile, placing the book on the desk. – How is she?
– Exhausted, although she managed to keep up with my teasing just fine. Called me a whipper-snapper and baby grandchild – the nurse said with a grin. – She’d also really love a bath – she paused for a moment thinking how to phrase what she wanted to say next. – She also seemed worried and embarrassed about the nausea… I know nausea is not always a good sign, especially with head injuries… It was like she was mortified that she was nauseous in front of us! I hope that’s not some weird elvish thing where they think throwing up is a weakness or some other weird billferny.
– Honestly, I’m not certain – Nessa said after a long silence. – Maybe it is a cultural thing, maybe it’s something personal… Regardless, I don’t think anyone feels comfortable after they empty the contents of their stomach in front of strangers.
– Eh, when nausea becomes a regular monthly occurrence you are kind of past the point of caring – Matilda replied with a wave of her hand. Nessa reached out and squeezed her hand in solidarity. – But I understand. Besides, she’s an elf, they do things differently – she finished with a slight smile.
– Speaking of doing things differently, I’m going to start working on the anodyne again before she wakes up. – Nessa said as she got up.
– I’ll start preparing water for the Lady Grandmother’s bath. It’s going to take a while to get that ready, and it will make her feel normal again. Or as close to normal as she can get with an injured leg, bruised ribs and a concussion.
– As long as you’re looking at the bright side – the healer responded with a chuckle and busied herself with preparing the anodyne.


OOC: (Sorry that this took ages I was planning to have this up on Thursday, but I wasn't really coherent of Thursday (says she who is not coherent now :lol: Well anyway, sorry about the length and if something doesn't make sense holla at me or something.)
She/her.
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Liriel giving birth

5 pregnancies. 5 births. Unlike other situations where things lessened the more you did it, giving birth never got less painful. It felt like she was being ripped open, like she was being torn inside out and even that did nothing to describe the intensity of the pain. She cursed like a dock worker, growling them out between clenched teeth and screaming them out as yet another contraction brought her to the brink of what she could endure.

As a young girl she had broken her leg. She would ten times over rather break a bone again than have to endure this kind of pain. And now the midwife was saying she had to push out two of them?? A few choice words were said about that, though she did not have much time in between the contractions to get herself worked up all that much, even though there were moments where she tried, but the contractions always put an end to it. She was in the hands of the Almighty Eru and there was only one way to go, which was forward and making sure the babes came out alive and well. But that did not mean she had to do it quietly.

"AaaAAAAaaahhh!! For the love of all things holy! Get them out!" It felt like it had been hours since Nessa had walked her around the bed and told her of how the babes would come, one after the other. At first the thought of there being twenty minutes between each scared her, but now she felt like she could do with that break, desperate for a breather without pain. Positioned on the bed with the young women ready to support her legs, she was finally nearing the end stretch, though this was going to be just as laborious as the first part of the labour. "Please! Let me push! I need to push! I can feel it coming!"

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Treatment room – Fuin @Nessa Saelind

"One would only hope." Fuin muttered to herself with a slight smile at Matildas comment about Nessa being more skilled at waking sleeping soldiers being married to one, she missed Graces gasp of disapproval as she nodded under her eyes sliding shut, something that was rare for her. She had been alone so long that most nights she slept with her eyes open quite literally. She clearly was far to exhausted and injured to do that her body needed a proper deep sleep.

The one thing though that came with that deep sleep was dreams that she had far less control over than her normal method of sleeping. She wandered into battles long past many horrifying and terrible. Her first had been after the Battle of Dagor Bragollach, she had been put into the field swiftly before she was ready for such a battle. Her body tensed following familiar steps, her breath catching every once in a while as she moved with the archers trying to slip around to flank their enemies a small band of goblins. She wanted to yell that it was bigger than they thought but she had had this dream before and no matter the yelling, there was no changing what happened. There was no changing the disappointment on Beleg and her fathers faces real or imagined by her own high expectations of herself. There was no changing the fact that her father had had to save her so she didn't end up with an orc sword in her belly and was wounded though not critically before she snapped out of her fearful trance and had killed the orc before it could kill her father.

Fists, clenching and unclenching, the smell of acrid blood, sweat, the panting gasps of the elves around her that had fought far more bravely than her as they checked themselves for wounds, and made sure that the orcs about them were dead and their weapons cleaned. The sharp cruel voice of the second newest member of the group, berating her as she struggled to keep her wits about her and her lunch down as she panicked over her father. Her wits she would manage, her lunch... It was the first and only time she had ever thrown up in front of anyone and it was more because she was worried sick about if her father would survive, for Beleg would not let her see it reminding her she was no healer and that she could do little for him. That in itself should have told her he would be fine, but she had not been a healer, she did not know that if he had been dying Beleg would not have stopped her from going to see. He simply did not want her to see the worst of the wound before it was dressed, not realizing just how superficial the wound was. She bent over to throw up...

And she jerked away in a gasp just as she always did right before she actually threw up. Though the pain from jerking up and awake was almost enough to cause a repeat of earlier. She swallowed hard forcing the little bit of mint tea to stay down before relaxing back onto the cot shutting her eyes happy that of all the dreams to have it was that one. The movement made her head spin and she fought to keep her balance well enough to lay herself back down properly. The only blessing about this particular dream, was at least she knew that after this battle her father lived for many more years. It was far better than when she dreamed about either of the Kinslayings that she had survived. For those she did lose loved ones, and parts of herself that she was not sure she would ever truly get back, though she did wish that she could hear reprimand the other soldier. Pointing out that he had in fact gotten a member of their group killed on his first mission which is why Melviriel was with them now. They needed another archer and she was despite her light weight bow an excellent shot. Which Beleg had said after an only after she'd finished emptying the contents of her stomach behind a tree patting her on the back. It had been quite comical and Melviriel had thought it was to make her feel better, not that it was the truth.

She hated the Kinslaying dreams because she had been too late to save her father, and then the second time when she had sword she would not be too late ever again, she was. Leaving her utterly alone in Middle-earth for so very long. She lay taking deep breaths trying very very hard to calm herself down and to get her head to stop spinning she did not need to throw up a second time she opened an eye and wondered where Nessa and Matilda were, hoping that they had not witnessed that graceful attempt at flinging herself out of bed after telling her to take it easy...


OOC:Hope you don't mind Fuin is a bit disoriented so she's not sure where Nessa and Matilda are though I am fairly certain they are in the room with her)

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Treatment Room with Afird @Drifa

Pele worked intently to remove the excess blood, so she could see the actual amount of damage done to Afird's forehead. The gash didn't seem to be too awful, and it seemed to be rather clean all in all.

"Shh. Don't put your fingers in that cut!" she warned the Dwarf, gently slapping his hand with the damp cloth. "It doesn't look too bad, though I want..."

When the healer saw the sudden change in her patient's complexion and his somewhat frightened look, with agility of a true Ranger she snatched a large bowl and set in on the ground by the cot. "No bucket, but this bowl will do, me thinks, if you need... I'll be back in a moment, will send someone to get your pack," she said and stepped out the door so that the Dwarf would not need to worry too much about putting her off with his sickness.

It did not take long for Pele to find Delaramin, though the youngster was not much impressed with the task of having to carry some sort of heavy pack all the way up through the circles. Yet, having received strict orders to do all he could to find and bring it here, the lad left knowing that grumbling back at Pele would only make things worse.

Returning to the room, Pele headed for the cabinets and the hearth to fix Afird some calming tea and fetch an ointment and bandages for his head.

"No matter how hard your head might be, it seems that you have shaken it pretty well, not just made a nice gash and bruise to decorate it with," she said, returning to the cot and ready to bind up the Dwarf's injury. "It looks like you might have concussion; hopefully no worse than that. Some rest should suffice to get you back on your feet again." Pele tried to sound light-hearted, though she knew that some careful observation would be needed to see whether the injury did not have any further consequences.
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Addhor Raxëlilta (and Unalmis - intruding)
Treatment Room, with Pele and Naela


For even that brief vacuum of time, he poised on the cusp of a breath, like a criminal on trial, awaiting the verdict, the sentence, his fate. A week’s rest did not sound so bad of course, when the verdict was finally delivered. But it was immediately followed up by ‘just to start’. That was when the dark head hung, with just as much despair, he might as well have been pitted to ‘hang’ by the neck. To his end ..

This would not be his end though. Not if he could listen, well, learn from what he was listening to. Pele’s insistence was fair but firm, and even she seemed to be measuring the prognosis against what she knew of the patient’s .. impatience. She would check, she threatened, although threatened was not the right word for it at all. But promised was too tame at that. So, he had a week. To prove that he could take direction, to try to improve matters. If she were letting him go about his own devices, then it must be not so serious. The hung breath made it’s escape and the man relaxed.

Her terming of Narradir as an apprentice recovered his humour much further, and Addhor might have laughed but the woman’s kindly meant suggestion had cast all else from his mind. To use this time, to observe it, not as an absence of independence. But to employ it for future worth, put his mind toward solving the problem. So that he should not have to embarrass himself by returning alike this again … The thoughtful smile was genuine, and the final word a surer remedy to his concern than any ointment that the younger healer might or might not be attending to.

You know, Pele” he returned, to the power of speech which he had forgotten a short time there. “You might have just ..


There was no means to tell what the veteran might have concluded, had a youth not shouldered the door of the treatment room aside, and all but stumbled into their midst.

I .. you ..Unalmis surrendered to breathlessness, holding up one hand to keep them even as the other laid against his knee, head bowed to inspect it. And find his manners. By the time the young man had returned to full height, coughed away what small embarrassment he courted, and stopped to stare at the pretty young healer whom he’d never seen before for a short time.

Unalmis” his father prompted for some explanation, raised an eyebrow, cast back an apologetic, silent ‘sorry’ to Pele.

The shop. Closed. You .. I found this ..Nal produced the walking stick as though it were his alibi. “I’ve been looking. Everywhere. For you..” And it might have sounded like a lecture, were the concern behind the brown eyes not so sincere. Dark hair hung about his chin as the young man’s chest slowed to more natural rhythm.

Well,” his father fought amusement, perfected by practice, to keep a straight face. “I have not been ‘everywhere’.

I tried. All the doors.Unalmis let them know, still quite stunned from some of the sights he had walked into at the various treatment rooms in the houses of healing. “Home, yes,” he straightened up, somewhere in the awkward silence. “I will see him home,” he assured Pele. “He’s alright, yes ?

If you’ll just let me know what I owe you, for your time,Addhor put to Pele, a little more stiffly suddenly; and clearly not wishing to discuss any concerns in front of his (grown, but nonetheless) child. Awkwardness might have seen awkwardness else. He accepted the walking stick from Unalmis and let tired eyes fall toward the abandoned limbsupport, which the youth lunged to take up from the cot, to carry. And be some kinds of useful.

Good to see you again PeleNal grinned, cradling the wooden limb even as the door struck his arm, in his alighting father’s wake. “I can take it from here !” the younger Gondorian decided. Hoped. Determined to try. “If he’s allowed to be took. Feel free to keep him if you think you need to. What ?!

This last met a groan from Addhor, not from pain but mere embarrassment. Still, it was enough for the patient’s offspring to stall his tongue. At least a moment.

Hello” he offered Naela, a moment beyond that.
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The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

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Naela with Addhor and Pele (and now Unalmis)

Clivers? Clivers? What on middle-earth were clivers?? Brows knitting into a tight frown, Naela headed over to where Pele had pointed out where the ointment was, opening the doors to reveal several jugs, jars and other paraphernalia. Lucky for her each item within was carefully labelled, likely to ensure that the wrong product was not used. She had to rifle through a couple of jars before she found a couple labelled with clivers on it, just like Pele had said there would be. Pushing a large jar aside she picked one of them up and turned to head back to hand it over when the door to the room suddenly burst open, followed by a young man.

Startled she gasped, almost dropping the ointment on to the floor, though managed to keep a grip on it as she brought it to her chest protectively taking a step or two back. Her mouth dropped as the young man bent forward, huffing with breathlessnes. Was he sick? Did he need help? Her eyes shot from him to Pele and back again, rooted to the spot with indecision. But the hesitation was enough time for Addhor to name him, obviously recognising who he was. As her eyes moved back to the young man she caught his gaze and did a double take. Had he been staring at her?

She shook her head almost imperceptively as he started talking inbetween gasps of air, producing a walking stick, dismissing the notion he had been. However it became quite clear the two knew each other, likely father and son given the concern she could see on the young man's face. Again her eyes went back and forth between the two men and Pele, wondering if Pele was going to let the man go as Addhor rose to leave. Unsure of what to do, given that they had not even really seen to the wound, yet not knowing if Pele was going to let them head out as it seemed she knew this one as well, she reluctantly handed the jar of ointment to the young man.

As her eyes met his again, he greeted her and again left her unsure of what to do. Or say. Colour crept to her cheeks and she offered a mumbled hi along with a small smile as she held the ointment out to him.

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The birthing room

As she and Liriel slowly walked around the bed, then up and down the room, Nessa could see how the grocer was worried and frustrated with the whole situation. In between contractions, she spat curses out with such speed that made Ioreth arch her eyebrows in surprise. Neither the healers nor the nurses were offended by the grocer’s language or behaviour. It was all part and parcel of giving birth. As were the threats of castrating husbands. Although Liriel might not have liked or appreciated the slow walk around the bed and room it certainly helped speed things up.

As Liriel leaned on the footboard of the bed again and cried that she needed to push, Nessa crouched down to check the cervical dilation. “It’s time,” she told Liriel and then turned to the others. “Help her to the birthing stool. Matilda you’ll stand behind Liriel to support her.”

With the nurses’ help, Liriel got to the backless four-legged birthing chair. The stool had handholds so the woman in labour could grip them, and in the seat was a crescent-shaped hole through which the baby would be delivered. The chair itself was about 10 or so inches off the ground which allowed the woman to brace her feet against the ground when she was pushing. As Matilda stood behind Liriel, supporting, Nessa sat in front of her with Ioreth by her side. She took a deep breath and calmy started giving instructions and encouragements. The grocer cried in pain between pushes, but she breathed as was instructed and pushed.

“The next few ones will be really strong and really long,” she told the grocer. “Take a deep breath and push as long as you can. And then push a little more.”

Liriel screamed her lungs out and pushed while Nessa counted down from ten. “Good job. Again,” she told the grocer and the process began anew. She counting, Liriel pushing, Matilda supporting her. During these intervals, a fresh cold cloth was draped around Liriel’s neck.

“I can see the head, push!” Nessa told the exhausted woman and she pushed as hard as she could. Finally, the baby was out and Nessa received him. A strong wail split the air. “It’s a boy,” she told the mother while she carefully placed the baby in a cloth while Ioreth cut the umbilical cord. The old healer took the child to be cleaned and Nessa turned her attention to the mother once more. “Don’t worry dear, the babe will be alright. But now we have to do this again, and then you can rest.”

OOC: ((@Winddancer I hope you don't mind the slight godmoding. The scene was a struggle bus in and of itself...))


~*~



Treatment room – Nessa with @Fuin Elda

A small stove stood near the stone sink in which Grace recently washed the dishes. Although the stove itself was rarely used in the treatment room, kindling for the fire was always there in case a healer needed to use it. While Matilda was busy with the preparations for the elleth’s bath, a lengthy process that involved informing the staff who needed to heat large amounts of water and bring it to the treatment room, Nessa lit the kindling. While she waited for the stove’s iron plate to heat up she went over to the cabinet and pulled out the ingredients she would need.

While she was reviewing De Materia Medica she thought about the patient’s reaction to the milk of the poppy. This time she would need to prepare something milder, and despite her concerns about administering willow bark to patients with head injuries, she decided that she would make the decoction. Taking a pot, she poured water in it and put in on the stove. Taking the jar with dry willow bark and using the smallest measuring spoon took she placed the content into the pot and waited for it to boil. She poured water into a kettle and placed the kettle on the stove next to the pot. She would need hot water to prepare camomile tea.

When the willow bark decoction and water for the camomile tea were ready she seat out to prepare ironwort tea. She took the mixture of the plant’s stems, leaves and flowers and placed them in another pot with water and waited for them to boil. Although the stove and the work station were further away from the cot the patient was hopefully sleeping, or at least resting, Nessa frequently looked that way. It was during one of those times that she noticed that the elleth twitched uncontrollably and woke. She poured ironwort tea into a mug, camomile in another and added a few drops of willow bark decoction into the camomile tea. She placed the mugs on the tray with food. Carefully carrying the tray over to the cot, she placed it on the small folding chair that stood next to the pillow.

It’s alright, you’re still in the Houses of Healing,” she told the elleth in Sindarin wondering where her dreams had taken her. “I brought you something to eat and some tea. There’s a selection of nuts and dried fruits, along with some salty crescent rolls. Neither should nausea or stomach pains,” she stressed. “However, if you’d prefer something sweeter and more substantial there’s also hib – a type of fig cake from the Ethir Anduin region. It’s made with dried figs, shelled walnuts, some fennel seeds and,” she said smiling. “A few drops of travarica. It’s a herbal alcoholic beverage that, according to our elders, is a cure for everything,” she told the elleth and laughed slightly. “It’s in there for the taste, I promise, but if you wish to try some when you get better I will gift you a few bottles to take home. For now, just eat something slowly, then you can drink some camomile tea in which I put some willow bark. If all goes well you’ll get your bath after all of this.

OOC: ((Ah finally I can introduce some traditional herbs and folk remedies from the Balkans. And if anyone thinks these are weird, wait until I can write how potatoes help to lower down a fever. :D))
She/her.
Solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant
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Khazad Elder
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Afird Splitaxe

Recovery Room

It had been a few days since his last embarrassing incident (being sick in the bowl), and having followed Pele's advice to rest and allow the concussion to run its course, Afird felt much better. The calming tea she had offered, and the ointment she used on his cut had helped too. He was now ready to put his boots back on and leave the good establishment that had helped him in his time of need.

As he looked around for his boots, his heart suddenly jumped into his throat. He hadn't thought of his pack, but now the realization that he could not see it in the room where he lay, damped his cherry mood somewhat. Had Pele sent someone for it? He could not recall. But it wasn't in the room, which meant it was either stolen or lost for good. Donning his boots and coat, he set out to find Pele the healer. Firstly to thank her and maybe, just maybe, she would have some news regarding his pack..


Reception
Back in the reception area, Afird sat himself down on a chair. His head felt better, although, a little light. His rumbling stomach told him that this was probably due to a lack of food. A dwarf couldn't survive sipping tea only. Hoping to see @Pele Alarion soon, he began to mentally making a list, in his now clear head, of all the food he would like to devour. If his pack was lost to him, he would have to work for his meal, he knew. Mind, he had no qualms about putting in a days hard work for some good food. Maybe he could find a job doing in a pub and hopefully get a meal before he put in a days work.

Master Torturer
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Liriel still giving birth

Was it possible to burst a vein just from pushing? She definitely thought so, especially in the last few seconds of each push. Breath held to help with baring down as much as she could, she put all her effort into pushing the babe out into the world, her face going almost a dark red at the exersion. Huffing and panting in between pushes, she was not given much time to recuperate, Nessa's unceasing orders coming faster than she thought she could manage. There was however no breath left now to curse, it was all pushing with held breath and then gasping for air before it all repeated once more.

Just as she thought she was pushing so long and so hard she would pass out, there was a sudden plop feeling as the babe made it's way out of her, the pain immediately lessening and the feeling of needing to push instantly disappearing. With a sobbed grunted wail she slumped back against Mathilda, her body shaking with the ordeal. Gasping and crying with relief, she watched as Ioreth carried the babe off to be clean, her heart soaring as Nessa reassured her he was ok. He.. she sobbed and cried at the same time, head shaking with amusement as she had guessed it was.

A cool cloth was placed on her forehead and she sighed with pleasure as it cooled her heated skin, letting out a whimpered sob as she felt the need to push start up again. Nessa's words rang in her ears, her body still trembling from exertion. How on middle-earth was she supposed to be able to do it again?? Feeling the need to push even more she let out a long wail as Matilda guided her back into position, her aching and sweat slick fingers gripping at the handles once more. How she managed to find the strength to push she did not know, but as before she leaned into it, breath held and pushed for all she was worth.


OOC: No worries! <3

Black Númenórean
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Tarawen
Recovery Room with Maenion


Tarawen watched Maenion take delicate, slow sips of water with affection in her eyes. Despite being driven to a life stalking through the wild lands in the north by a desire to do some good in th, she was not, by her nature, a caregiver. The feeling of providing something useful directly to someone else was largely foreign; her good deeds were done in the background, a distance Tara enjoyed. Still, to see Maenion find refreshment in this simple glass of water did her good. It reassured her go see that he was up to the task of bringing the cup to his lips.

“It’s not a dream,” she reassured him, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “I am right here with you and will be till you tell me to get out of your city. So, hopefully not any time soon.” She laughed, but turned serious once more when Maenion looked around for Enara. Tara still was unsure what to make of the woman but hoped to size her up again now that she’d had a bit more rest.

“I’m sure she will be back soon,” Tara said once his latest coughing fit had passed. “Please, rest.” She listened, smiling, to him describe his wedding to Enara. “I’m so glad to hear you’ve been happy,” she said. “You deserve it. As with many things, I’m sorry to have missed it.”

She leaned back in her chair, folding her hands on her lap. “Well, if I am to stay in the city, I should ask - where do you and your family live? I was thinking it might be good to find lodging nearby, if I can. And I suppose I’ll have to figure out a job while I’m here.” She laughed again at the thought of herself doing any work. What skills did she have? She would need to do a bit of searching to find somewhere she could help, but she’d swallow her pride and do it if it meant she could stay to support her brother.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

High Lord of Imladris
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Treatment room – Fuin Elda with @Nessa Saelind

She sat panting for a moment hearing the Sindarin made her if anything tense more until she processed what it was that Nessa had said. That they were still in the Godorian house of healing and she did her best to recover as quickly as possible. "I'm sorry, the vomiting apparently brought me back to my first battle it was not... a good one." She said calmly and took a few deep slow breaths and looked at the tray that now sat near her head with the tea and the food. Her stomach which had been silent up over all aside from vomiting growled loudly.

"Apparently my stomach thinks the food provided looks fantastic, and I am prone to agree with it." She said softly with a sigh "And I may see about hib if my stomach deals with the fruit and tea, while your elders are still young to me, they know a thing or two about medicinal properties of alcohol I'll give them that any day." She said softly and worked on slowly sitting up to eat with the help of the healers.

She picked up a bit of fruit and chewed it slowly and carefully, the sleep had calmed her head a bit, though it still ached, she reached out and very very carefully took the cup of chamomile tea with the willow bark in it and sipped it swallowing the first bit of solid food she'd had that she could remember. "I have to admit I don't remember if I've told you my name, I do... remember yours Nessa and Matilda???" She frowned slightly trying to remember if she was right but nodding "Yes I'm certain that was baby grandchilds name." She smiled and sipped her tea some more. "I tend to go by Fuin these days, so if you feel like telling Elrond I was a model patient he'll know that name well enough, probably better than he would like actually." She said quietly taking another sip of her tea before picking up another bit of fruit to chew on it figuring if she ate slowly she'd be in better shape than she had been before her nap. And she was quite looking forward to the bath, she hoped that's what Matilda was up to very very much.

Balrog
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Eril, in the Recovery Room with Tom

Eril had come into consciousness a few times since his heart attack. He only knew what it was called because in between fever dreams, hallucinations of his wife, and pain like a roaring dragon he heard the doctor mention it. What did that mean? He was going to have a long time to consider it. He didn’t remember what happened right after. He was trying to sit in a chair, he remembered that much, so that he didn’t pass out on the floor. He wasn’t sure if he’d succeeded. Every time he woke up or just brimmed the edge of awareness he was in a different room.

The first thing he saw was his wife. They were sitting back in their house, long before the war and Tom. “Am… I dead?” his words didn’t sound like they were coming from inside him, they sounded as though they came from above him, or behind him. When he tried to touch his wife, his fingers passed through her. “No,” she said, her smile sad but warm. “Eril you aren’t dead yet. You still have many, many things to do.” He looked down at the floor, shamefaced. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to tell her, but the words suddenly felt small, insignificant, and futile. “I’m so sorry,” he finally said, his gaze still cast at the floor. He felt her cool touch on his chin, gently but firmly lifting his gaze to meet hers. “You have much to be sorry for, Eril. For what are you sorry?” A quiver began in his lip. Even in the depths of his dreams he wanted something to drink. “I’m sorry for the way I treated our son, Tom. I’m sorry Eriane. I failed as a father. I didn’t take care of him the way I should have. I failed you.”

“You failed me,” Eriane said, her blue and green eyes swirling. Eril’s mouth went dry. He coughed.

“How is any of this even real?” he asked, trying to turn away from his wife’s eyes.

“It’s not,” she said, moving back into his field of vision. “This is just what you imagined it to be. It was never like this, even before everything happened. You idealized the past because you couldn’t find a way to cope with the present. Instead of working to transform the world you had, you shoved your head in the sand. It took a heart attack for you to even come to that realization.”

Eril blinked. How could that be true? No, that couldn’t be it. No.

“Yes,” his wife said as if reading his mind. “It is true.”

The scene shifted; they were still in the house, but the season had changed. It was closing in Midwinter; he could feel the bite of frost in the air. Tom was there now, playing with a wooden stick roughly carved to look like a sword. He was giggling and hooting. Eril watched himself appear, his eyes sunken and tired. Tom ran toward him, arms wide open. Eril watched the apparition of his son run toward him, only to be met with a hard gaze. “I’m too tired, Tom.” The voice sounded thick and syrupy, slurred and uneven. Was he… drunk? Even then? He felt crimson heat crawl up his neck.

“Is this real?” He asked his wife, finding it difficult to tear his eyes away from spectacle in front of him.

She nodded and pointed.

Tom was giggling and waving his wooden sword about, thrusting and slashing at imaginary enemies. Eril was slumped over in a chair, a clay jug in his hands. Eriane was sitting by the fire, looking pensively into the flames. Tom, his boisterous activity becoming more and more lively and rowdy, tripped over his father’s outstretched leg. He went tumbling and rolling. There was a quiet tense moment, Tom looked to his father and his chin began to quiver. Eril, seemingly unaware of what had just transpired, grumbled and shifted. Tom giggled, his fear forgotten and began to play with his sword again, vanquishing his foes with vigor.

“I don’t remember this…”

“You do,” Eriane’s voice was close. “You just pushed it back because it’s not what you wanted to remember.”

The shift shifted. The day was the same and Tom was still playing with his wooden sword. But now Eril was playing with him, play acting a troll who was threatening to eat his mother if Tom could not defeat him.

“That’s… that’s what I remember,” his voice was slow and unsteady.

“It’s what you wanted to happen,” his wife said, her voice sad and distant. “It’s what you remember because you had to recreate happy memories after I died. Instead of playing with Tom, making things better, you delved into your own head and refused to come face reality.”

“How could I have done this? Why didn’t I… all I needed to do was play with my boy, my son.”

“You have never been a man of action; you’ve been a man of words and daydreams.”

“I don’t want to be that anymore,” he pleaded.

“Then don’t,” the reply was simple and blunt. “You still have time. Tom might be older now, but he still needs his father. He needs a father that doesn’t waste away drinking and dreaming. If you don’t want to remember all the horrible things you’ve done and wasted, then stop doing them and stop wasting them.”

“Who are you?” Eril looked at the apparition of his wife. Her ephemeral form flittered and blinked. “You aren’t my wife.”

“I am,” she said, her face turning from the scene in front of them, “but I am not. I’m what you remember of your wife. I’m you.”

He awoke, a thrumming ache filled his body. He tried to speak but his tongue felt so thick he couldn’t open his mouth. He tried to move but his limbs felt like millstones.

“[Will he live mistress?” That voice… that was Tom? Eril tried to move, tried to turn, tried to find the source of the voice, but staying awake… was so… hard.

He was back in the house. It was lonely and grey. The air was stagnant and cold. Tom entered from his room and looked at Eril. “Da…”

Eril blinked back tears. “Tom,” he choked. “Is that you?”

“Might as well be,” the boy said and shrugged. He looked bruised and beaten, neglected and disheveled.

“I’ve been a terrible father,” the older man admitted.

“You have, aye,” the young boy did not dissent.

“What can I do, to stop it?”

The boy laughed, took his father’s hand and pulled him back towards Tom’s room. The place felt unfamiliar, alien to Eril. How long had it been since he’d been in this part of the house? It was only a few paces from where he would often come up from work and sit, but he might as well be in another world.

He peered through the door. Tom was sitting on the edge of his bed, a small leather-bound book in his hands. The boy was peering intensely at the book, his finger slowly inching from left to right. “Then the hero stood up, his sword gr-gripped tightly in his hand and said to the troll ‘you are not wel-welcomed here. We are peac-peac-peaceable folk but we will fight for what we have’ and with that he sliced the troll in two.”

Eril sighed. “I remember that story. I read it when I was your, I mean his, age.”

“And Tom had to find it for himself,” the shade admonished. “All he wants to do is be a hero, but you make things so difficult for him. You refused to give him the gifts and opportunities he deserves.”

“But I…” he started.

“But you were so broken by his mother’s death that you simply couldn’t?” the shade interrupted. “No. No, you know that’s not true. You’ve been gone from his life for much longer than that. All that your son is, is not because of you. He idolizes you, the Powers know why, and looks up to you. Just like you, he daydreams of a life that is better than it is, of events that happened differently so he isn’t consumed with loneliness and sadness. He thinks you’re a hero, when you can’t even be arsed to be a villain.”

Eril sank to the floor, leaning against the cold walls. He watched the memory of his son. He flipped through page after page after page of stories, reading some of the bits out loud, struggling with some of the words but preserving and pushing through. He pulled the little wooden sword out from under his bed and swung it back and forth. It was tentative at first, but soon the boy was jumping on the bed, swinging valiantly against fictional trolls threatening villagers, leaping from the bed and slicing at flying monsters threatening to steal away maidens and children from their homes. Eril wept.

Again, he came to a sort of in between consciousness. He could hear a commotion, an upwell of sound. Voices, objects clattering, doors slamming. He thought he could hear her voice again, rising over the tumult. Was that his wife? No, no. Not his wife. He tried to open his eyes. Light and color overwhelmed in and he whimpered. He tried again, opening his eyes slower this time. There were shapes and shadows but they were all too vague for him to discern. Then he heard her voice again. Not his wife. The woman that, the woman that saved him. Had she saved him? Was he dead? She was the one that saved Tom, saved…. Tom. Where was Tom? Where was he? Was he still in the Houses? His body ached. He… where… Tom?

“You aren’t ready yet,” she said.

“What?” Eril started. He stood in the reception area of the Houses of Healing. The light was soft and dim. Evening. The air was chill. His breath froze into clouds as he exhaled.

“You need to be careful,” she said. “You aren’t ready yet.”

Eril rubbed his temples. “Ready for what?”

She laughed. “Anything really. If you knew half of what I had to do to keep you alive, you’d stay in the bed for a week.”

“What happened? Where are we now?”

“’We’? No, you. You’re still where you always have been.”

“Are you not…” he started.

“Nope, just what you think I am. Do you even remember my name?”

He paused, rubbing the scruff of his beard. “N… Ne…”

“Almost there, almost.”

Nessa?”

“There we go,” she smiled warmly but reached over and thumped his forehead hard.

“What in the… why... what?”

“You’re an idiot. I would never tell you so bluntly, not until you’ve recovered at least, but you are. You’ve been wasting away after your wife died, you don’t even remember what it was that she died of, and for the last few years you’ve been slowly killing yourself and your boy.”

“Tom…”

“Don’t interrupt,” she thumped him again, “yes, Tom, your son. You’ve been killing the both of you because you can’t see any future.”

A storm was building on the horizon, the air grew suddenly so cold that Eril’s teeth chattered. Lightning flashed wickedly, crossing the skyline like a twisted grin.

“What is that?” he pointed.

“That?” she shrugged. “No idea. This is your head, not mine.”

“But… but you’re me…” he was growing more and more confused.

“Technically, I suppose. But that doesn’t change my answer. You need to decide what you’re going to do with your future before it gets here.”

“Decide what to do…” he trailed off and looked back inside the Houses of Healing. “What should I do?”

“How should I know? Not waste your time? Stop killing everyone around you? Stop daydreaming your life into the silent street?”

Eril opened his mouth the speak but found he had no words to say. He turned from the healer and looked down the hallways. There was something almost, almost inviting in them.

“What if I stayed here?”

“You can’t, it’s not a hotel,” she chided.

“No, no, I know that,” he rolled his eyes, why was he being so belligerent? “I mean, stay here and… and work here? What if I devoted my time here instead of…?”

She grinned impishly. “Do you really think you could handle the work we do here? You don’t even know what to do with a cough. What about a heart attack? Or a concussion? What do you do for a fever? A flu? Do you know how to set a broken leg? Do you have any herblore whatsoever? Can you disinfect a wound? Can you decide when the fight is over? When the leg must go?”

He shrank back, not expecting pushback from his mind. “Well, no. I- I can’t do any of that. But, but I could learn. Right? I could learn. And in the meantime I could help out with small tasks around the place. I’m sure you, I mean I’m sure they could use the help.”

“Tired of being a second rate rat catcher?”

He stood up taller, puffing his chest out. “I am. Tom deserves better.”

“Wake up… and maybe we’ll talk about it.”

He awoke with a start, coughing as air filled his lungs. “Tom? Tom are you there? I… what happened?”

:fairy:
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

New Soul
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The birthing room with @Winddancer

The birthing chamber was abuzz with movement and barely contained excitement. A successful birth of a child was always a cause for happiness and celebration, however, the labour and delivery part was not yet finished. Still, Ioreth and the nurses she chose to attend the birth could not contain their excitement. As Ioreth cleaned the newborn baby boy and checked for any deformities, the newborn declared his presence to the world with a strong cry. The old healer could not suppress a chuckle; another robust, hearty and healthy boy for Liriel to raise.

On the other side of the room, Liriel’s work was not done; she let out a long wail and Matilda guided her back into position. The circle began again: Matilda supporting Liriel who was pushing for all she was worth and Nessa counting. Mercifully, for the mother, this time around the process was shorter. Soon Nessa could see the other babe’s head and said so to the exhausted woman who pushed again as hard as she could.

“Another boy!” Nessa told Liriel with a smile when she received the baby and placed him in a cloth. Again, Ioreth was there to cut the umbilical cord and she squeezed Nessa’s shoulder in silent encouragement and congratulations before she took the child to be cleaned. Relieved that everything went well and barely suppressing a huge happy smile she turned to Liriel.

“Congratulations dear,” she told the first mother of twins she helped deliver. “Just a bit more,” she said referring to the delivery of the placenta. “And you can rest and hold and feed your boys.”



~*~



Treatment room – Nessa and NPC Matilda with @Fuin Elda

At first, her patient looked somewhat ill at ease as she spoke to her in Sindarin, but as the meaning of her words started to sink in, the elleth seemed to get her bearings and relaxed.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to apologise,” Nessa said quietly when the elleth explained her reaction. “Battles usually aren’t a repository of good memories…”

Thankfully for everyone involved, her patient’s stomach decided that it was high time someone paid attention to it, and both women were saved from reflection on the horrors of wars. Chuckling at the elleth’s comment about the human knowledge of the medicinal properties of alcohol (she could already see that Matilda was going to enjoy caring for their Honourable Lady Grandmother), Nessa helped her sit up so she could eat. As her patient carefully started to eat the dried fruit from one of the bowls on the tray, Nessa walked to the work station to fetch a chair so she could sit opposite to her patient.

When she returned with the chair and set it down she noticed that the elleth carefully reached out for the mug of camomile tea in which she added a bit of willow bark decoction and cautiously took a sip. Sitting down she nodded approvingly at the elleth’s caution, it was better that she ate and drank slowly lest she upset her stomach again. Although based on her experience, the sudden motions were probably the main cause of nausea, it was always better to be safe, than sorry.

“I have to admit I don’t remember if I’ve told you my name. I do… remember yours Nessa and Matilda???” the elleth spoke and then frowned slightly as if she wasn’t certain if she remembered correctly. Nessa nodded, indicating that her patient had indeed remembered their names correctly. “Yes I’m certain that was baby grandchild’s name,” the elleth said with a smile and took a sip of her tea. Nessa bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. If the nurse and the patient continued to banter like this, by the time the elleth recovered she would for all intents and purposes become an Honourable Lady Grandmother to one “baby grandchild” nurse from the Houses of Healing.

“Please to meet you Lady Fuin,” she replied when Fuin introduced herself. But before she could comment further there was a knock on the door and Matilda peaked in.
“Lady Grandmother awake and decent?”
“Yes, Lady Fuin is awake,” Nessa replied and saw that a wide grin split the nurse’s face.
“Right, come now lads,” Matilda said and opened the door fully, motioning for someone to enter. “Quick as a flash, no dilly-dallying,” the nurse told the men who were carrying a tub. Two other followed carrying pails of hot water. “Eyes downward Fred, or you’ll be spending the rest of the month cleaning chamberpots!” she warned looking at the men from the door, and Nessa ducked her head to hide a grin.

Matilda ran a tight ship, as was the saying in Pelargir, and soon everything was set in its place and the men exited the treatment room. Matilda closed the door behind them and walked over to them, white cotton towels draped over her left hand and carrying a wooden box with bathing supplies in the other.

“Well, Lady Fuin,” Matilda said looking at the elleth. “What do you think? Are you ready to have that bath now?”
She/her.
Solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant
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High Warden of Tower
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Pele with Naela, Addhor, and Unalmis
Treatment Room


From the initial reaction of Addhor to her recommendations it almost seemed as if to Pele as if she had just condemned him to some sort of imprisonment. For a while she considered whether she should provide more explanations and reasoning behind her instructions, yet she was not sure whether that would even help.

The man was about to say something, when the door suddenly burst open to reveal a rather out of breath Unalmis. Pele put on a rather disapproving frown and turned to face the young intruder, placing her hands on her hips. Yet it took a lot of effort for her to maintain the look of an annoyed healer and not burst out laughing at the scene.

"Unalmis, when will you learn that knocking before you enter is a polite thing to do?" she chided the young man. "What if there was a naked woman in here and you barged in?" Though, truth be told, she was not that sure that it might not have happened already. "Your father is mostly fine, though he does need a bit of rest to be even better."

The two seemed in a great hurry to leave the Houses of Healing, but Pele was in no mood to let them off the hook this easily. "Addhor, who told you that you were dismissed?" she said, as if he were one of the young recruits under her command. "I might not have finished with you yet..." She paused for a while, and then glanced at Naela who looked rather perplexed at the whole situation.

"Suppose you prefer to endure the treatment while standing in the doorway; fine with me - just don't fidget for a while," she snatched the jar of ointment that Naela was passing to Unalmis, took some amount of it with her fingers and lightly dabbed it over the inflamed patch of skin, while watching out for any unpredictable defensive actions. Handing the jar to Unalmis, she said: "I'll still put on a light covering of bandage..."

While she got the mentioned bandage, she gave the final instructions to Addhor: "As I said: keep the pressure off that limb, and don't let it get too dry - make sure to keep it most with that ointment. If it gets worse, let me know, or else..." With practiced ease Pele secured a bandage over the injured spot, just tight enough so that it would not fall off; once done, she took a step back.

"In terms of payment - I suppose Houses of Healing might benefit from the fruit of your work if you don't mind making a few small tools as you recover; or if you rather would - you can also pay in coin. Anyway... Be off you two, else you keep flustering people that are learning to be healers." A small impish grin made its way on Pele's lips, as she observed the whole scene.


~~~~
Pele, finding Afird
Reception


The Dwarf had been recovering very well, and Pele was glad that it had his injury had not proved to be too serious. She was slightly surprised to find him gone, when she came to check on him, and yet his pack had remained under bed. Shouldering it with a bit of effort, she headed for the reception with an intention to leave the pack for his finding.

"Ah, there you are!" she exclaimed, finding Afird sitting in the reception. She sat his pack next to him and continued with a smile: "I thought you had escaped from here, and left your pack behind again, and wondered whether I'd have to send that poor lad Delaramin to look for you with it. You are feeling well, I take it?"
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Chief Counsellor of Gondor
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Addhor Raxëlilta (and Unalmis - being kicked out)
Treatment Room, with Pele and Naela


In receipt of a ‘hi’ and a blush, Unalmis reached out to take possession of the ointment which the young woman was also offering him. The room though fell back under the command of the Master Healer, proving why in fact she held that title. The young man blushing himself, when naked women were even mentioned.

Honestly I blame the parents,” he began, in response to Pele’’s first complaint, then caught sight of his father and tried to retract the statement, in favour of “I mean, the officers,” until he caught Pele’s expression also. “What I mean is, well, what if I said that I only hold basic healing training for the Rangers and was come here for some medical education ?

Properly embarrassed by his son, and by having been found here too, by that son, Addhor had nothing but a sorry silence to the healer’s command that he ought halt his flight. Honestly, he wanted to be anywhere but that room, as soon as ever he could manage it. It had taken enough self-convincing to humble himself into seeking help in the first place. This was absolutely the sort of outcome that he had hoped to avoid.
Go and wait in the reception,” he grumbled to the young Ranger, who dropped his chin in horror at being so ordered out, like a child. There were only so many apologies a man could offer and so the patient forewent the heaping of more unto Pele, even when she further halted his escape, as though he too was a toddler making a break for jam tarts.

What if there are instructions though, that whoever needs to help you at home needs to hear ?Unalmis loitered long enough at the door to try and forego any need to actually leave, even as his father obliged Pele and sat back down a while longer to make things easier for her. He had swiftly drawn down his trouser-leg to take leave and now, Addhor could not have said whether it was due to Pele having 'aired' his wound, or simply freed it from the clammy confines he had restricted it to, but the pain had already begun subsiding. The Veteran had never heard of 'Clivers' before, but then he had (like his son now) only been blessed by a basic study of healing and herblore. The Master Healer made a point of voicing her medicinal directions straight to her patient, and brown eyes at the door sought out the ceiling. Perhaps in an effort to console that impatient escort, the young man was handed the ointment once Pele was done with it. “Are you even going to tell me what happened ?” he pressed. “I was worried ..

Out,” came an answer that did not satisfy the young man at all. Nor move him.

Well you’re basically finished now, I might as well walk with you,” made the parent sigh as though a new sort of pain had waved over him. The sort that no salve would soothe.

Send me word of any I can do for you, you know where I live, Pele” the veteran conceded to her generous suggestion as he recovered his height and his walking stick. He had not forgotten the revelation of her own circumstance, though this was even less of a good time to discuss the matter further. Her bandaging skill had not been hampered, at any rate. There was no catch or pull from the fresh dressing against the skin. He could yet feel the source of the pain, but he also felt that he could support his weight the walk home without passing out, which had been an ever present fear on his way to the Healing Houses. “I will surely check in, as you say, if there is any problem. Else, I can always send this one running back up all the circles to bring whatever coin might meet your service. Honestly, I am out of ideas else to see him busy and out from under my feet.

I am on official leave from duty,Addhor was reminded, though not reassured, by his son. Unalmis juggled the wooden support and the jar of ointment now but managed to drop neither. “I can hardly be held accountable if the nation is not endangered at this precise moment. Anyway, I can help you out now with ..” A look told him all the ‘no’ that he could handle, and then some. “I am most awfully terribly sorry if I have inconvenienced you, .. I didn’t catch your name ..” he commenced anew, until a shove saw Unalmis out of the door before he could embarrass poor Naela any more.

My thanks, Pele, and my abject apologies.Addhor concluded, pausing only long enough to make sure he was admitted leave this time. If he would be chased down the corridor, today she’d catch him. “If you find his beaten body brought you by the end of this day, please do not think ill of me.” His eyes informed her that it was a joke. Still Nal refrained from pushing his luck any further. It was going to be a long, lecture-fuelled journey down the circles to home already. “Good luck Naela” he bid the trainee with a grateful nod. A further, unspoken nod was offered to the Master Healer. And then peace. For so long as it might last in such a busy city establishment.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

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Maenion with Tarawen and Enara and the kids

"I am afraid we do not have much room, otherwise it would be our pleasure to accomondate you. I do however know of a good boarding house you can stay in.." Still holding the doorknob in one hand, Maegon and Findis peered out from behind her. Her tone of voice was sickly sweet, though still made it clear that under no circumstances would Tarawen be staying with them. Letting go of the doorknob, Enara made her way into the room, her eyes only briefly leaving Tarawen as they flicked to her husband who seemed to be dozing off again. Her teeth clenched, brows narrowing slightly at the thought of having missed out of a lucid moment with her husband.

"This.." Without turning she pulled Maegon forward and motioned for Findis to step forward as well, though the young woman remained where she was, scowling at Tarawen. "Is Maegon. Maegon, this is your.. aunt." The boy smiled, though quickly hid it before his mother saw. He wanted nothing more than to run forward to greet his stepfather's sister, but knew well enough the trouble it would cause with his mother. Instead he gave a respectful nod and hoped they would have a chance to talk more later. His stepfather had talked so much about her, he felt he almost knew her.

"And this, is Findis" Enara finished, waving her hand out towards the young woman behind her. Tarawen got no respectful nod from Findis, just another scowl as Enara stepped further into the room. She stopped by her husband's side, a thin hand reaching out to gently touch his cheek. Her facial features softened for a moment as she looked at him, a flash of fear crossing her stark features as his rattling breath filled the quiet in the room.


***
Liriel

Her addled mind couldn't quite piece together what Nessa was saying as the second baby finally made it's way out of her, the pain immediately subsiding. Just a bit more?? Why?? Was there another one coming? But before she could completely panic, she felt the urge to push, though this time she did not have to wait long or push nearly as hard. She still cried out as she passed the placenta, dropping back against Mathilda with exhaustion. Oh. That.

Closing her eyes she gasped for her breaths, body aching though it was nothing compared to the labour pains. She heard the duet of cries and smiled, slowly opening her eyes and turning her head towards them. "Are.. are they healthy?" She inquired, craning her neck to try and see them.

"Here.. let's get you to the bed, then you can feed them.. come, I will help." Mathilda? Was that the young girl's name, she helped Liriel lean forward and then with the help of the other young nurse they moved her to the bed, leaving Nessa with the placenta.


***

Naela with Pele, Addhor and Unalmis

She couldn't help it, she gawked at the exchange between the three. Obviously they knew each other and she could tell from the tones and the slight signs that at times they were jesting and not being so serious as it was made to sound. Still, she jumped when Pele took the ointment from her before Unalmis could take it, wordlessly trying to apologise for giving it to them. But as Pele bent to apply the ointment, right there in the middle of the doorway, her jaw dropped again. Pele even managed to apply a bandage as the man stood there, amazed at the guts and the skill it took.

Eyes wide she watched their interaction with keen interest, smiling slightly at the ones between the father and son. In many ways it reminded her of her relationship with her Grandmother. She opened her mouth to reply to the young man, but only managed "Na.." before he was shoved out of the door by his impatient father, giving him a grateful nod at his wish of good luck. If this was how it was done, she was definitely going to need it! Blinking for a long moment, she began to chuckle softly, though quickly covered her mouth and looked at Pele. "Sorry.."

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


The sound of the door creaking open was followed immediately by Enara’s voice. Tara turned to greet her with a tired smile and was surprised to see two young people - surely, Enara’s children - looking curiously at her from behind their mother. Tarawen’s mouth dropped open for a split second, and then she smiled more broadly.

“Oh, hello! Yes, we were just discussing where I might stay while I’m in the city. I completely understand that you don’t have the space,” she said, rising from her seat to face the newly-arrived family and make way for them to approach Maenion’s bed. “What’s the name of the boarding house?”

Tarawen could see that the sweetness and warmth in Enara’s voice did not reach the woman’s eyes when she spoke, and felt not a little relieved not to need any excuse not to impose upon Maenion’s family, not least a sister by marriage who was so . . . confusing. Tara had never had patience for the wiles and guiles of the girls around whom she’d grown up. She had never pretended to be anything but straightforward and honest, and so it irked her when they smiled and pretended to be kind, only to turn on each other with cruel words and mocking laughter the moment their “friends’” backs were turned. This bluntness and dislike of two-facedness had followed Tarawen into adulthood, and her sense that Enara was like her childhood companions was growing with every interaction.

Hands clasped in front of her, Tarawen smiled and inclined her head in greeting to her niece and nephew as Enara introduced them. She noted a likeness between Findis and Enara that went beyond family resemblance when the young woman merely stared coldly back at her.

“Well met, Maegon, Findis,” she said, partly in an effort to break the strange silence that fell upon the room. “Please, don’t let me get in the way of a visit with your father.” There was a moment’s pause, then Tara continued. “It’s strange to think of myself as an aunt. But I am very glad to meet you both. I hope we’ll have some time to get to know each other while I am here in the city.”
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

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Treatment room – @Nessa Saelind and NPC Matilda

Fuin laughed, "Ohh... Please no... Not Lady. May mother bless her heart would beat you for calling me a lady, that was her one absolute failing in life as far as she was concerned" She held a hand to her ribs as she set down her tea. Groaning slightly from the laugh. "You're as terrible as the sweet baby grandchild for making me laugh." She said taking some slow breaths still trying to not jostle her ribs too much. It was then that the sing song voice of the grandchild came through the door and Nessa's response almost made her laugh again.

"You call me a lady but you made sure to say I was just awake and not that I was decent." She said with a smirk looking at Nessa who was still trying not to laugh as Matilda chided Fred.

"OHHH Sweet baby grandchild don't be so mean to him, he makes a seven thousand year old elf feel young with his peaking since Nessa didn't say I was decent." Fred went redder and did in fact very very quickly exit the treatment room the tub filled with nice hot steaming water and she strained to look at it excited for a bath even before Matilda asked if she was ready for a bath.

"Ohhh yes. I am most certainly ready to get the last of the dirt off of me."

It took a few moments for the two of them to get her into the tub with her leg, still deeply cut positioned so that it wasn't in the water, leaving Fuin quite happily wiggled into the tub behaving a bit like a child her face partially submerged as she blew bubbles in the water that was currently clean enough to play around in for the moment her first thought was that she very much wanted to wash her hair and get the grit and dirt out of it though she had a feeling her keepers would be very very angry if she tipped her head back and submerged herself. So she did not and let them wash her hair with a cup and poor water over head though it was far less... efficient. But probably a good bit safer considering the concussion.

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Enara, Findis, Maegon and Maenion with Tarawen

"The Rose Cottage." Enara did not even move her eyes from her husband as she answered Tarawen's question. She had almost given her the name of a rundown fleapit, though thought better of it as it would likely make Maenion cross with her. A soft sad smile played on her thin lips as she wiped a lock of his damp wet hair aside, fingers softly carressing his temple. He was burning up again. Looking around, she found the washcloth and dipped in the nearby bowl of cool water, wringing it out carefully so as to not splash it everywhere, gently placing the cloth on his fevered brow. He did not wake, though he murmered softly, his head shifting slightly.

"He talked of you all the time, you know." The words were spoken in a sofer voice than usual, only a tinge of jealously in them, though she kept her eyes on her husband. "He oftern regaled Maegon in countless stories of adventures he thought you might be on." At that Maegon smiled and nodded, ignoring the sneer his sister gave him. He wasn't afraid of her. "He even went looking for you. Did you know that?" Sighing Enara took the washcloth to dip it in the water again. "Hrmph.. of course you didn't.."

Obviously bored, Findis ignored Tarawen's attempt to start a conversation and took a seat in the far corner and pulled out a nail file and began to file her nails. She ignored the look her brother gave her, turning slightly away so that she wasn't facing any of them, wishing she could just go already. Though Maegon was dying to talk to Tarawen, he knew he would have to wait until his mother and sister were not there, heading over to sit on the stool by the window, having given her an apologetic smile. From there he could keep an eye on his father and at the same time look out on the garden beyond. It had been Meanion's pride and joy and he had passed that on to his stepson, who wholeheartedly shared his passion for gardening, much to his mother's dismay.

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Ann Kalagon
returning to the Houses of Healing after a long absence


Somewhere between the Third and Fourth Circles, memories just flooding her mind as she rode Feather up through the City towards her destination—Ann Kalagon wondered when she had last seen Major Pele Alarion?

As she traveled up through the City’s streets, she took in familiar sights and somewhat better smells than she remembered. A hot meal and lodging would have to wait for a bit. And it was likely her former SinC might have a good referral for all that, when she saw her, as she hoped she soon would.

But those final days of the last age had passed in a strong wind of time—a storm really; so many events all in a hurry. She had been on a far venture to Tharbad with the Hyandaner and other Rangers. Afterwards, she was not at all sure when she had last seen Pele?

Could it be I have not seen Pele since maybe before the Battle of the Pelennor Fields?” she thought. “Well, everyone has their stories to tell from those times—those of us who have survived them. There is a specific sort of a healing of the heart and one’s unseen wounds sometimes happening in the sharing of old stories with one’s peers.” She had passed a few hours in close circles with other veterans of the war, veterans from many lands—men, elves and dwarves, even a hobbit or two; what was said there was private, and she’d found it had given her some peace.

One thing Ann is sure of, is that Major Alarion would have definitely made it and was very likely to be found in Minas Tirith. She had a strong feeling she would find her at the Houses of Healing.

Possessed with her memories, she soon found herself going through the gate into the Sixth Circle. She dismounted and led Feather to the stable nearest her destination. One of the grooms came out at once to assist, and her dear horse was given a stable with fresh hay and a feedbag, to be followed by grooming and a blanket and a rest.

After the war, Ann had journeyed north, slowly but steadily toward Mirkwood, with others who had been traveling that way—some men, some elves. Then she had spent a season and more with her parents in their village of Alder. Her mother, Rose, the local beekeeper, had set her up with a nice store of herbal medicines and supplies—some of which she still carried.

She and her two favorite Beorning cousins had spent some weeks in Dale, where she’d acquired various medicinal roots. Among these were some resembling little people—an herbalist there had emphasized their efficacy as a general tonic for Dwarves. She had called the roots by the name Dain’s friend. This herbalist had supplied her with some winds of a fibrous plant used for bandages and a chalky powder that staunched bleeding in minor abrasions.

After returning through the forests, which were systematically being cleared of evil things by Thranduil’s elves, her cousins had escorted her on from Alder to their own family home. She’d spent time there, and later she had journeyed all the way to Bree, even north of the Shire and around Eriador with some of the Rangers there. And everywhere she had been, she had added to her stores of precious tinctures, salves, leaves, roots and flowers.

She still had some of her cousin’s elixirs made from honey—those were in her private store. But yes, she had all the rest and more to bring to Pele Alarion. Everything she had collected along the way from Alder to Dale, back through the forest, over the river, though the Misty Mountains and across the north to Bree and beyond, then later all the way down the Greenway south coming back to the City. She had left her possessions she had left at the stable to pick up from the groom in his tackroom, other than a couple of rather bulky leather saddlebags which she carried.

Ann walked to the front doors of the familiar house. “Yes, I was here, too, after the Pelennor Fields. There was fear and the weariness on peoples’ faces, I felt it as well. And then when that battle was won, word ran through the House and then the streets of the return of the King!

But I don’t remember if I saw him then, I was out of it for a couple of days. And where was Pele then?” She looked up; she was there!

The Houses of Healing Reception

Ann opened the door and walked down the hall to Reception. She introduced herself and said she’d only just returned from afar, and asked if Pele Alarion was in. Seeing the person’s immediate familiarity with the name in their eyes, she turned and made her mark on their parchment and said, “Please let her know that Ann Kalagon, a veteran ranger of her acquaintance, will be waiting in the gardens to speak with her, whenever she might have a chance to come out from her work. This is no emergency.”



In the HoH gardens

Ann Kalagon entered the garden to wait for Pele. She was still running inventory in her head, along with the chronology, of her special collections, which were all well-wrapped and sealed, some in jars.

Some of Mother’s honey remains, Rose’s tea for inflammation, the tea for headache and a dozen various medicinal tinctures—all from native plants found between Anduin and the Greenwood.” From Dale she had roots for Dwarf medicine and their local athelas, all wrapped in beeswax; of course, she had saved Pele a large jar of her Beorning cousins’ honey with the comb and queen’s jelly; from Bree more athelas, mint, lavender and chamomile teas. And on her journey south, she had found a few elvish medicinal tea flowers and leaves she had been told to find by smell, by an elleth traveling with a Northern Ranger of her acquaintance whom she had last seen in Bree. And she had three small jars left of that Ranger’s healing salve as well.

The gardens were lovely today. She breathed in the fresh air, tangy with a taste of the sea? Yes? And she focused her eyes upon the profile of the Tower of Ecthelion, walked about to take in the spectacular view. Then she leaned against the southward wall by the walk, and meditated, conserving her energy to keep her on her feet until she could find lodging this day. She was not entirely sure how long she’d be here, or if she was staying this time—but for some good while indeed, after such a journey.
fka Ann Kalagon, Hyandaner

Mae Govannen, my friends!

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