Houses of Healing

Seven Stars and Seven Stones and One White Tree.
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Treatment room with unidentified elf
Days after Battle of Pelennor Fields


Hilton stood in amazement at how quickly the nurses did their work. Yes, he as a soldier could do likewise when called into action, but all of this hustle and bustle, and nothing seemed to be missed. It was awe inspiring. Maybe, if he ever had a daughter, he'd recommend doing this.

Long hours passed, and he was beginning to wonder if he was going to get overtime pay for this when apparently something caught the eye of one of the nurses. It was the one who had led them there. It was wrong of him to do so, but curiosity got the better of him, but he followed Shaela over to take a look. Apparently she was not expecting it cause she turned around and he was right there surprising her. "Goodness. Yes was going to say, you might want to have a look so you can tell your Captain."

"Sorry. I shouldn't have come over until asked. After all, you did say to stay out of the way." He said softly. Hilton looked at what the nurses had been making a fuss over. There was a very faint brand on the elf.
It wasn't something he knew that well. He knew some cattle owners had branded their livestock, but this ... this was wholly unknown to him.

As he mused, Shaela shooed him out of the way. They were trying to get the patient dressed. As he was backing away, the head nurse let out a cry. "What have I done now?" he thought to himself. He turned to look, just in time to see the elf collapsing again. "What? What's going on?" he asked taking a couple steps closer. He had one hand on the handle of his sword. He then saw bruising on Shaela's wrist. But the elf appeared to be out cold again.

"Um. Miss. Do you want these?" he asked holding up the pair of cuffs Bregor had left with him. "The captain has the other pair. I can report what happened and request them as well. He may even want to have the patient moved to another room for better guarding. But I can see what he wants." Hilton asked. After getting the nurse's response, he left and made his way to the reception hall where the captain had said he'd be.



Reception Hall


Bregor, Gokin, Halbarad, and Adrahil were still off to the side of the room. They didn't want to be in the way of 'legitimate' guests of the House of Healing for loved ones being taken care of from the war. They'd been discussing possible reasons for the odd weaponry and the weird steed when Hilton came around the corner.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be watching over the patient until we know more." Bregor said sternly.

"I've come to report some new findings sir." Hilton said. Bregor nodded in a 'get on with it' manner, still upset the man left his post. "The nurses found a brand on the elf's arm. It was very faint, but it looked like this." He described the brand as best he could. "And then as the nurses were dressing the patient, it woke up and grabbed the nurse's wrist hard enough to leave a bruise. It all happened in seconds. The elf passed out again immediately afterwards."

Bregor noticed the lack of cuffs at the soldier's side, so he probably left them with the nurse, or at least offered them. "Take these to Shaela as well." he said offering the second set he had with him. "And recommend having them move the patient to a new room, one where the patient can be guarded easier. Go." Hilton nodded, gave a salute, and left. Bregor then turned to Gokin. "Return to my office and get some more cuffs for just in case. May also want to send a note to the dungeons for just in case saying there may be a new arrival."

"What do you mean sir?" Gokin asked.

"I'm not certain, but if add up all the evidence we've seen so far, that weapon, very likely coming from our neighbor to the east. That steed, unlike anything we've seen, and we have a nation of horse masters to our north west. And then that brand. From what I know, and I know very little, it sounds like it points in the same direction as the other bits of information as well. Go." And Gokin gave a salute and left.

Bregor sat down. He partially lied. Well, he did know very little about brands, but he did know that what Hilton had described was indeed from Mordor. But who would get branded? The only thing that makes sense would be slaves. He'd never heard about orcs being branded in that manner. Things were pointing in one direction, but he really didn't want to think he had it figured out. He looked up at Halbarad and Adrahil. "You know what, let's go help Hilton and the nurses move this dangerous patient of theirs. I don't think Shaela will object to moving her. Especially if what Hilton said was true about immediate bruising after being grabbed for just a could seconds.
Always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy- Stonewall Jackson
Hubris guarantees disaster.- T C

Faramir
Faramir
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Healer Linaiwe with Galenas

It seemed like Galenas had been lost deep in thought, even though she had asked just a simple question. Yet finally he did speak, and Linaiwe found much needed clarity.

"Oh. So the Lady is experiencing nausea?" she verified, just in case, guessing from the wrongly spelled words. "I will see what I can gather then, just wait here for a bit."

It was not her place to guess the reasons behind the Lady's condition - had it been serious, more likely than not a healer would have been summoned, so Linaiwe guessed that it might just be a bit of indigestion or along those lines. At any rate she wasted no time and quickly went into one of the side rooms, gathered some ingredients into a packet, and then wrote on it:

"- chamomile
- peppermint
- catnip
- basil
- fennel seeds
- marjoram
Use 2 tablespoons per cup of boiling water.
Let steep.
Strain and drink 3 cups per day."

Linaiwe carefully sealed the packet and then returned with it to the reception.

"Here you go," she said to Galenas. "All the instructions are written on there. But you can tell them that the Lady needs to make tea from 2 tablespoons per cup and drink the tea 3 times a day."


@KingODuckingham
~ I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren ~

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Treatment room with unidentified elf

Shaela was still in shock, her eyes locked on the unconcious elf before her, that she did not even hear what the guard said and just automatically took the cuffs that he offered her. For long moments she remained locked in place and it wasn't until Maisie came around and placed her hand on Shaela's shoulder that she snapped out of it.

"Miss Shaela? Are you ok, you look as pale as... that elf.." she said softly as she flicked her head back to indicate the elven patient.

"What? Oh.. yes.. yes I am fine. Um yes.." Shaela looked down at the cuffs in her hands and her initial reaction was to toss them on the table at the other end of the room, however her eyes slowly rose to look at the elf on the treatment table. Swalloing hard she placed them next to the elf, though in her gut she felt that cuffs would not be a hindrance for someone with a grip like this elf. Absentmindedly she looked down at her wrist, rubbing gently over the red marks that were obviously going to leave bruises.


***

Recovery Room

Shaela paused before turning the corner, shifting the heavy kettle of hot water that she had gone to fetch. Placing one hand on the wall to steady herself a bit, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She was weary beyond describing, the past few days a whirl. The Houses of Healing was overrun with patients, some still trickling in as they were found on the fields. Not only that, but on every circle of the city there had been buildings reappropriated to house the wounded and the ones who had lost their homes. The constant fires burning on the fields left the air pungent with smoke, making it harder to find more surviors and harder to breath on the lower levels, forcing them to move some of the worst wounded further up into the city and above the smoke.

None of the nurses had really had any rest since the war began, though she and Maisie, the only two allowed into the elf's room now, had managed a few moments of reprieve as there always had to be one on hand to begin with. Though not now. The guards were under strict instruction to alert the Captain and either Shaela or Maisie when or if the elf woke. There were just too many casualties to allow for someone to be there the whole time. She even had to put her foot down as they wanted to move the elf to the dungeons. While the elf scared her more than she was willing to admit, no one was going to lock up any of her patients, especially an unconcious one that had done nothing wrong so far. The grab to the wrist had just been a reflex in Shaela's opinion, nothing else had happened since, though the elf had remained unconcious since that day.

Allowing for another deep breath, Shaela rolled her shoulders and moved the heavy kettle to her other hand, wishing for a moment she could make herself a cup of tea and put her feet up for just a moment. Letting out a sigh she pushed herself onwards and made her way around the corrner and headed down the corridor. Making her way down to the door at the far end, Shaela gave the two guards at the door a nod and allowed for one of them to open the door for her with a grateful smile and slipped in before it was closed behind her.

Pausing just a fraction longer than was usual, Shaela looked into the room at the elf on the bed before her and had to push herself to head all the way in. She had not quite kicked the sense that there was something wrong with this woman. Other than the wounds they had found her with. Finally stepping in, she made her way to the table off to one side and began filling the basin after giving the guard inside the room a nod. All the guards took their jobs very seriously and none of them had been ones to chat with, merely giving a curt nod if she forgot and began to talk to them.

With practised ease, Shaela picked out what she would be needing as it was her turn to give the elf a bath and change the sheets. Likely not as necessary as if it had been a human patient as elves did not sweat and since the intial fever that only lasted a few hours, the elf did not really make it necessary. But she was old school and she would stick to bathing and changing sheets like she did for everyone else.

First Shaela removed the blanket, taking a look at the two broken legs, still amazed at how quickly they were healing. The swelling had completely gone and the open wound on the one leg was almost completely healed. "Shouldn't be more than another week before the bones have set I should think..* she mused to herself as she set to work removing the old bandages and applying new ones. It still amazed her just how much quicker elves healed, though did wonder why the elf was still unconcious since that was the case.

Shaela was past asking the guards to look away, knowing they already knew the drill and would avert their eyes as she removed the shift the elf was wearing and began bathing her. Maisie had done the last bath and it took her a little aback when she saw that every single bruise the elf had, had now gone leaving a perfect ivory skin. "Well.. that's good.." she said, not breaking the habit of always speaking to her patients. "Wouldn't be surprised if you wake soon now.." she said lightly, though her brows furrowed at the thought as her washcloth passed over the faded brand on the elf's arm. "Hopefully you will be able to tell us who you are then.." she mumbled to herself, leaving out that she would rather know 'what' this woman was.

"Ok.. all done. Now let's see if we can get some fluids in you.." Grabbing the pillow behind the elf's head, Shaela tried to prop the woman's head up. "Could you bring me another pillow, please?" Shaela didn't even think twice that she was asking the guard to help, struggling to get the unconcious elf into a better position so that the woman would not choke on the fluids. It wasn't until the guard stood next to her that she realised what she had done and with a sheepish smile she half turned to face him while at the same time stuffing the offered pillow behind the elf's head. "Sorry about that, old habi- HRGGHH!!"

Shaela let out a cry that was quickly cut off and became a gurgle as she was suddenly spun around and a powerful arm clamped tightly around her throat, not fully comprehending that it was the elf that had put her in a chokehold and was now reaching out for the guard's sword at the same time with a speed that almost seemed supernatural.

Istari Steward
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NPC Galenas

"just wait here for a bit." Galenas heard. His brain relaxed, tension dissolving. Something simple in the midst of this dreadfully difficult task. Stand and wait. He could do that.

"No problem, ma'am, sorry, ma'am, yes ma'am." he stuttered, and then shut down.

After an indeterminate but no doubt fairly short amount of time, the Healer returned with a bag and attached instructions, which Galenas took several minutes to look over carefully and attempt to read. He didn't recognize all of the words, but hopefully that did not matter too much as long as it was useful to the Lady. He also made sure to pay careful attention to the verbal instructions the Healer gave, repeating them several times to her.

"2 tablespoons, drink three times a day. 2 tablespoons, three drinks. Tablespoons are different than teaspoons right?"

He shuffled backwards out of the room, bowing several times and thanking the healer and the receptionist over and over. He was completely unaware of what was proper ceremony, but he was doing his best. He was also in a hurry though. The Lady would not be pleased, he thought, if he delayed too long.

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Nessa with Thea – Treatment room

Observing Thea’s reactions to the information she was passing on was an exercise in patience. The girl was clearly relieved that Tom was not seriously injured and that he was just sleeping. However, Thea was shifting nervously from one foot to the other like she’d done something wrong and wanted nothing more than to get out of the treatment room as fast as she could. In fairness, the only fault Nessa could find is that Thea accidentally caused Tom’s injury by not seeing the boy before she opened the door. If they were going to punish people for not looking before they opened doors the city’s dungeons would get filled up really fast.

- Re-really I am ok, they are just a bit red. – Thea started to speak quickly. – Tom needs the care more than I do! Really, they… they don’t hurt. At least not as much anymore. Surely it is more important to keep an eye on the boy? – Thea took a deep breath to stop herself from rambling and gave her a pleading look. – I do appreciate your concern, but I am fine… please let’s just help Tom?

Exercise in patience.Nessa thought with a sigh as she tried to think of a way to show Thea that both she and Tom could (and would) get treatment in the Houses of Healing for their respective cases. And that taking care of one doesn’t mean that the other would receive inadequate care.

- Thea, look at me, please. – She started and waited until she had the girl’s full attention. – Tom is going to be fine. – She said stressing the last part. It was important for that information to get through to Thea. – He’s sleeping now, and I will carefully move him from the treatment table to the bed. The only thing you and I, and the nurses can do at this moment is watch him sleep and monitor his behaviour. – Nessa patiently explained what she planned to do with the patient. – If you’d like, and of course if you have time, you can stay here and watch over him. I know you’re feeling guilty because you caused the accident, but do bear in mind that this was an accident and you didn’t cause the injury on purpose. And besides your care for Tom’s health and wellbeing is really admirable! You’re doing the right thing Thea. – She paused letting the girl absorb all of this. – Now will you let me help you with your hands?


@Winddancer I am sorely tempted to tie Thea to a chair if this continues. :P And I will do it in the most ludicrous way I can think of, for my own amusement :smiley9:

***

Garden – NPC Matilda with Rowena and Zara Ellenweorc of Rohan and Lady Volorwin

As they walked through the garden the Marshal’s (Rowena) daughter (Zara) at her mother’s request started telling Matilda a bit of background between the two families: Volorwins and their own family the Ellenweorc. The Marshal (Rowena) must have picked up that Matilda was making preconceptions and judgements about people she didn’t know and the situation that she was unfamiliar with. After all things were rarely that simple and straightforward, life was not a song.

She was aware of what she was doing, and that making assumptions without knowing all the facts was wrong. However, she couldn’t help but to feel a slight bit of anger toward those unknown people. How could someone not want to know where his mother was, how she was doing? How twisted and broken of a person do you have to be to stop wanting to know where the person who gave birth to you was and how she was doing?
The death of her parents still hurt and not a day went by that she didn’t wish they were alive, that they were pestering her when she would find a nice young man and settle down… She knew that she would roll her eyes at them, and be annoyed at their nagging, but be glad that they were alive. However, it was not to be. They were dead, she was alive and working as a nurse. Some people were just messed up and had complicated relationships with their parents, she thought as she listened to the rest of the tale. Life was not a song and she needed to focus on her patients and her work.

- It seems coming here is good for my mother. She remembered a forgotten memory herself. – Zara said before she gave her mother’s and her own name. – If her memory is anything like my mother’s was, she might not remember me, maybe she will. I don’t know. But she’ll probably remember my Mama.
- I hope she will. – She replied with a slight smile. – I’ll walk over to her now and tell her you came to see her.

She walked over to where Lady Volorwin was sitting, a bench surrounded by lilacs, their scent was rather strong, but the elderly woman wasn’t bothered by it. She looked like she was concentrating on something. Matilda took a seat next to her trying not to obstruct the woman’s view of Rowena and Zara.
- Good day Lady Volorwin – She started her voice light, but careful. – I don’t know if you remember me, my name is Matilda and I’m a nurse in the Houses. I apologise for disturbing you, but two ladies from Rohan came to visit you. Rowena and Zara Ellenweorc. Marshal Rowena says you might remember her…


@Rowena Ellenweorc
She/her.
Solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant
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Thea with Nessa

Long moments passed before Thea could summon up the courage to look into Nessa's eyes without immediately bursting into tears. Drawing in a ragged breath, she swallowed hard and lifted her gaze to the woman before her. Thea's body language looked as if she was about to be hit, eyes wary as if bracing herself for the accusing words that would come.

However the admonishment never came. Instead Nessa once more tried to ensure her that Tom was indeed going to be ok. The woman was obviously practiced in speaking with distraught relatives and patients as for just the briefest of moments the tenseness in Thea's body started to ease. That was until Nessa mentioned not injurying the boy on purpose. Thea looked like she had been slapped, eyes widening and her face suddenly going pale. The sudden ringing in her ears drowned out the rest of the woman's words as she struggled not to lose it. However Thea had never in her life been in trouble in any kind of way before, not even been the cause of any accident that had hurt anyone and suddenly she burst into tears once more.

Covering her face with her red hands, she sobbed unconsolably her words forced out between hiccupped sobs. "It wasn't me!" Fighting through several more attempts at continuing though the sobs won, she finally added "The woman opened the door! I am sure she didn't mean to harm the boy, I am sure she didn't!" More words followed, however they were drowned out by the continued sobs.

Loremaster of Gondor
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Days after Battle of Pelennor

It had been a couple days since the wrist grabbing incident. Bregor was back in his office. Now, but he had requested reports every few hours from his guards he’d stationed at the House of Healing with that particular patient. He’d tried to convince Shaela to move the elf to the dungeons when she’d agreed the elf no longer needed to be in the treatment room, but she was adamantly against it. She did relent to have guards inside and outside the recovery room though, which he was thankful for at least.

He added a few more guards to those he already tasked so he could cycle through them three at a time for eight hour shifts. That way they wouldn’t be completely worn out. He felt bad taking them away from cleaning up of the city for a third of the day, but with that potentially dangerous individual, he wanted the citizens under his charge to be protected.

For the most part, nothing else had happened since. Though, he’d received word that the bruising had been fading quickly on the patient. To him, it seemed even the broken bones could be healed in weeks rather than months. He looked at the hourglasses on his desk. It was almost time for him to make a trip to check on things himself rather than send a messenger over.

Recovery room with unidentified elf


Hilton was inside the room watching the elf sleep. The calm rising and falling of her chest was steady and calm. Shaela was likely going to be returning soon to change bandages and whatever else the healer did, but it did seem things had been progressing rather quickly. He still didn’t understand why the captain didn’t push harder on having this clear enemy moved to the dungeons. It was only a matter of time before something happened again.

The door opened and in came Shaela. She seemed to hesitate a moment before approaching the patient. “I knew it. Even she thinks the elf is dangerous. She should have just went along rather than demanding to keep her here.” He thought. He watched as the nurse filled the basin with water and grabbed towels to bathe the elf. By this point, he knew the drill, he averted his eyes.

He heard sheets being moved and a soft mumbled. There were the sounds of water dripping, and soft rubbing repeating over the next few minutes. Eventually, the words, “Okay. All done.” came, and he knew it was okay to look again. Then came the request of a new pillow. He’d participated in this bit of the routine a couple times now so he knew it. He’d grabbed the pillow and was handing it over when things went wrong quick.

Shaela was grabbed and was being choked from behind. The elf had sat up insanely quickly and grabbed the nurse. Not only that, but she was even reaching for the sword he had at his wrist. He jumped back at the last moment.

“Release her this instant.” He ordered.

The door opened, and the other two guards entered. They had been brought in later, so they didn’t fully know all the details of the elf. But seeing the elf choking the nurse, Hilton hoped they’d grasp the situation quickly and help diffuse it. “We heard a noise.” One said.

Hilton didn’t take his eyes off the elf, but simply said. “Looks like what the captain had feared came to fruition. I said, release her.” The elf just eyed them, darkness evident in the red eyes. The elf retorted something, but Hilton didn’t understand it. He risked taking his eyes off of her to look at the other guards, but they just shrugged as well.

“If you’re going to speak, do so in a language we understand. Just another reason why I hate elves. Thinking they’re so high and mighty.” He was getting angry. He needed to help Shaela, but how to help her without the elf killing her before he could do so? “Formation C.” he said, just above a whisper.

The other guards nodded and began to approach. He held back. He hoped it would work. But just as he feared, the elf tensed up, and apparently tightened the grip on the nurse. Things were getting out of hand.

“NOW!” he yelled. The guards charged. Whether the elf expected it or not, it did seem to have the effect he wanted. Shaela was released. But one of his guards was disarmed of his short sword and promptly killed. The other guard managed to block his likely fatal assault. Hilton approached from behind, hoping that the elf was too distracted, but alas, it was not to be. She turned on him.

The furry of strikes frightened him. It was all he could do to defend himself. But when his partner came in too close, she turned and attacked him. It was a constant back and forth, neither making any headway. Hilton had to admit to himself, if things went on like this, he was going to join the guard lying dead on the floor. And the other guard and possibly Shaela would probably follow that path as well.

He was being pressed back again, when suddenly, the red eyes of the rolled back and the elf collapsed. Gasping for breath, Hilton was confused. He looked and there was Bregor with his own sword out, wiping something off the pommel before sheathing the blade again.

“Captain? When did you get here?”

“Just now.” Bregor said. He kneeled and cuffed the elf's hands behind her back, and then placed another set of cuffs on the elf’s ankles. “Now can we move her to the dungeons?”

Hilton collapsed. The rush of adrenaline at the end of his shift probably would normally have him feeling alive, but with him being nearly killed, it had the opposite effect. In case the nurse wanted to check him for injuries, he, as calmly as he could, said, “I’m fine. Just need to calm down.”

Bregor nodded and looked at the other guard. He too seemed fine. Bregor sighed and looked at the Shaela and helped her up. “Sorry for being late. When I saw no guards outside the room, I knew something was wrong. Glad I could stop her before things got too out of hand.” He picked up the elf like a sack of potatoes and, without caring to be gentle, flopped her back onto the bed she’d been laying on before the whole event.
Always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy- Stonewall Jackson
Hubris guarantees disaster.- T C

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Nessa with Thea – Treatment room (11)

Throughout her interaction with Thea, from seeing her holding the injured boy at the reception, to her behaviour in the treatment room Nessa had been aware that something was not as it should be. At first from Thea’s behaviour and reactions she thought the worst, that perhaps someone was abusing Tom and her, but when the boy woke up that assumption (thankfully) proved to be incorrect. She wasn’t really convinced that the accident happened the way Thea said it did, but there was truth in her description and it fit with the wound pattern. Nessa just wasn’t convinced that Thea was the one that injured the boy.

However, she certainly didn’t want to make Thea feel even more uncomfortable than she already did; nor for the girl to get an inkling that Nessa suspected she was fibbing. Since she didn’t want to upset or frighten the girl further (because that would get her nowhere) she decided to go along with Thea’s accident story. Either way Tom was not seriously injured and was going to recover, but Thea needed to be calm enough to realise this. Only then could Nessa gently try to coax her to open up about the incident, but she would not press. It was not her job to do so, and if Thea wanted to talk she would.

In spite of her good intentions and well-meaning words it was apparent that they didn’t have the desired effect. Thea tensed, covered her face with her hands and started sobbing inconsolably, fighting to force words out in between sobs.
- It wasn’t me! – She kept repeating over and over again through her tears. - The woman opened the door! I am sure she didn’t mean to harm the boy, I’m sure she didn’t!

As Thea broke down crying Nessa stopped thinking like a healer’s apprentice and acted on pure mother’s instinct pulling the girl into a hug. It might not be the most professional thing to do, but at the moment she didn’t care. A young girl was upset and crying because someone put into her head that she was guilty for something she didn’t do. She gently ran her fingers through the girl’s hair, mumbling soothing words, just like she would do when her own daughter was upset and crying.

- There, there little dove. – Nessa said her voice low and soothing. – You’re safe here. You’re safe, the boy is safe… – She kept repeating that they were both safe and sound hoping that her tone and words would get through to Thea in her state. – You’ve done nothing wrong sweetling! You’ve been very good and extremely brave little dove. You saved Tom’s life today… Everything’s going to be alright…
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Recovery room with unidentified elf

The tremendous roar of the massive oliphaunt made her teeth chatter and warned her of the impending doom. Pulling hard on her horse's reigns, she tried to coax it away from the path of the enraged beast, though before she could she felt a sudden sharp pain in her back. Gasping in agony, she managed to twist her head enough to glimpse behind her and saw an Uruk merely standing there slowly pulling his blade back. Anger bubbled up as quickly as a geyser, but before she could turn the horse and deal with this traitor the oliphaunt rammed into them, sending her and the horse flying. Agony exploded through her whole body before the darkness took her in it's relentless grip.

She was so weary. All she wanted to do was lay down and sleep. If only she could find a spot where she could rest, constantly pushing through this sludgy darkness that had her feeling like she was going to be sucked under if she stopped. 'Keep going. Don't stop'. Those words became a mantra as she continued her agonising struggle to not disappear into the depths of the darkness that was all around her.

They are going to strangle you. THEY ARE GOING TO STRANGLE YOU! DO SOMETHING! She startled awake, a person leaning in over her. Barely able to put two thoughts together, her insticts kicked in and she grabbed the person, swirling them around so that she could hold them in a chokehold. Blinking a couple of times she saw the other, an armed person this time and again instinct kicked in and she snapped her arm out in an attempt to grab the sword he wore. Unfortunately he backed off a second before she could grab it and demanded that he release the person she was holding. Adreneline kicking in, she tightened the grip on the person she was holding and with her mind still muddled, she retorted in black speech, "Drop your weapons or I will snap her neck!"

She gave the slightest shake of her head, trying to shake the confusion out of her brain, though did hear the whispered command and immediately reacted by tightening the grip on the woman even more, to the point that the woman was gargling desperately for air now. Far from being as ready as she would like, she too did react when the yelled command came and she shoved the woman towards one of the charging guards. Where was she!? She tried to follow behind the woman as she flew towards the guard, but her legs were somehow bound, not realising they were splints. Biting back the pain as she finally made it to her feet, she staggered stiffly towards one guard and instinctively ducked his attack. Instead of backing off, she used her crouched stance to push forward before he could swing his sword again and with a quick blow to his throat, she was able to disarm him and immediately sunk the blade into his chest, knowing exactly where to drive it through so that it would go up under his ribs and into his heart.

She did not pause, quickly pulling the sword free and pushing the dead guard away and swung immediately to attack the second guard. However he managed to parry her attack, helped by the fact that she could not move easily in the splints as she tried to step towards him to push the advantage. Back and forth they went, each parrying the other's attacks, the loud clangs from the swords reverberating painfully in her head, making her blink furiously. Though the clangs masked the third guards advance, she felt him close in and immediately swung round while ducking, barely avoiding getting her head chopped off.

It was apparent that the two men had had a lot of training and had likely worked together as they tried to corner her in. But the adrenaline kept her fighting, switching back and forth between them and managing to parry each of them, though she was beginning to flag as she was now running on fumes. Under normal circumstances the fight would be long over, but she was fighting blinding spots in her eyes from the pain in her head, her legs were somehow half incapacitated with odd contraptions that her muddled mind couldn't make out.

Taking a sharp breath, she used her anger to fuel her and pushed forward as she increased the speed of her attacks, giving it her all as it now really was all or nothing. However just as she took another step forward and braced herself for the impact the sword would make her brain exploded in a blinding light and the pain drove her back down into the sludgy darkness.


***

Shaela's eyes bugged out of her head as the chokehold was tightened. Desperately she clawed at the arm that held her in the vicelike grip, but to no avail. She could feel the pressure of the blood in her head increasing and dark spots were beginning to form in her vision. Gargling she renewed her efforts as the grip was tightened even more, her eyes starting to roll back as the darkness almost claimed her. But mere moments before she lost conciousness, Shaela was able to draw in a huge gulp of sweet fresh air, her body doing the rest and gulping more in between bouts of coughing.

Laying on the floor clasping her throat, she fought not to throw up as she coughed and gulped in more precious breaths. She was barely aware of the legs shifting and moving around her, hardly aware that there was a real fight for life and death going on around her. Suddenly the room went quiet and she blinked furiously as she saw Bregor leaning down to help her up. Shaking like a leaf it was all she could do not to cry, wishing that Bregor hadn't let her go. "Thank you" she managed with a weak shaky croak. Never before had she been this close to dying and even with the war happening only a few days before, never had she been exposed to anything this violent. All she wanted was to be held tightly in a hug and be told everything would be alright.

But she was not a child anymore. Shaking off the desperate need for a hug, Shaela forced herself to think like a nurse again. Closing her eyes for a second and taking a ragged breath, she headed over to the dead guard to check his pulse as Bregor dumped the elf back on the bed. Closing the dead guard's wide eyes, she said a small prayer for him and headed over to the second guard. Apart from a few scratchs and a racing pulse, he seemed fine and she ignored Hilton's words and took his pulse too while looking him over to see if there were any wounds.

With the guards seen to, she knew she could delay it no longer and looked at the elf. Hands tied behind her back and lying on her side, her long thick black hair was haphazardly covering her face. There were long scratches on the elf's arm where she had held Shaela and again it was all she could do not to throw up as her throat tightened. The splints on the womans legs were broken and useless now, barely held in place by the bandages.

This was all her fault, she suddenly realised. If she had let the Captain take the elf away, then this poor guard would not be dead. The tears she had been desperately fighting back now released like a dam that had sprung and she covered her face as she croaked out "I'm so sorry" over and over. Long moments passed as she sobbed, though finally she was able to get a hold of herself again and with a ragged breath she wiped away her tears. Barely able to talk, each word an agony in her throat she headed over to the elf. "Yes, she needs to be in the dungeons. But I am still a nurse and I can't let her go like this." Stopping she turned and headed towards the cabinet and got a small bottle. Heading back to the elf, she paused for a long moment, before she pushed the hair away from the elf's face and pushed her body into a position where she could pour the liquid into the elf's mouth. It wasn't until she had poured a fair amount in that she finally relaxed, her hand still shaking.

"Milk of the poppy. I have given her enough to keep her unconcious for a while and taken into account that she is an elf.." She did not mention that the amount would have kept a human unconcious for days and perhaps even have killed a fragile elderly person. Coughing a bit in pain she looked around for the jug of water and quickly poured herself a cup and with shaking hands she took a long drink ignoring the pain as she swallowed. Pouring two new cups she put a drop of the milk of the poppy in each and handed it to each of the two guards. "It won't knock you out, don't worry. It will just slow your racing pulses a bit"

Leaving the cups with the men she headed back to the elf and checked her head to make sure there was no deep wound or broken skull. While she had bled, the blood caking in her thick hair, it did not seem like she would need stitches and instead Shaela carefully washed the wound. Once that was done, she headed over to the cabinet and picked out new splints and bandages. Though the elf's ankles were bound in cuffs, she managed to switch out the broken splints and place new ones and then carefully washed the long deep scratches on the woman's arms, her mind purposefully blocking out that she had made these wounds.

"There.." she croaked. "You can take her now. I would recommed keeping the splints on for another week or so. With how quickly she is healing they should be set by then." It did not even occur to her that the splints could be used as weapons and would likely be removed by the guards in the dungeon. But then again she was a nurse and not a guard.

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Thea with Nessa

The moment Nessa put her arms around her she stiffened in surprise. For two long years she had been devoid of any kind of human contact, other than the quick hugs Lily would give her at the end of particularly gruesome shifts. Having lost both of her parents and not being married, she did not get to hold someone in her arms, ever. The sobbing caught in her throat and made her half hiccup, half cough into her hands, the tears still streaming. But as the woman spoke in her soft soothing voice and slowly stroked her wild curly hair she finally began to relax. The hysterical sobbing eased and she merely cried, though it seemed to be endless, allowing most of her recent pain to drain out along with her guilt.

Finally the tears subsided and she calmed, though she waited a moment longer, revelling in the comfort of the woman's arms, knowing it would likely be ages before she would feel that again. Pulling back, she gave Nessa a sheepish smile, while wiping her wet face. Looking at the woman's shoulder, she blushed furiously.

"Sorry.. looks like I got you all wet!"

For a brief moment it looked like Thea was going to burst into tears again, however a groan from the bed at the other side of the room stopped her. Turning she saw Tom shifting and her eyes immediately went to Nessa's, looking for any direction of what she should do, already stepping aside a bit so the woman could go to Tom.

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Lady Volorwin, Rowena, Zara -- Gardens
The nurse had broken her concentration, startling her, and causing her to nearly topple over. She could almost feel herself falling into a sinkhole, but strong arms pulled her free. She looked to see the salt and pepper haired form of Rowena holding her up. Clearly the woman still was fast on her feet and had the instincts of a healer. Her dark blue eyes looked up into the steel ones that were one of the few things she remembered. She spoke softly, her first word since she'd gotten here. 'Annie.' It was barely audible but the smile on the woman's face told her she caught it.
'Mama V,' she said softly, continuing on in slow paced Rohirric, uncertain if the woman would even understand her, 'I came as soon as I found out you were here.'
The woman looked at the nurse, as if asking her to translate, even though she hadn't even really understood what the nurse said when she came over. Her brain was still trying to process everything going on around her. She had understood the words Mama V though. And at them, she felt her heart leap out of her chest. She smiled at Rowena's daughter. Zara was the other name the nurse said. The girl had hung back, clearly not wanting to overwhelm the woman. So again the woman waved.
Zara waved back at Lady Volorwin but remained where she was, to give her mother time alone with the woman.
Lady Volorwin (who apparently has no first name because writer is lazy to come up with one) shrugged her shoulders and looked at Rowena.
Rowena realized that Lady Volorwin didn't understand her Rohirric, so instead she used her hands to communicate. 'Do you understand me when I do this?' she asked.
Lady Volorwin smiled and nodded. The visual definitely was a better jog to her memory than the spoken.
Rowena smiled and then said, 'I came as soon as I heard you were here. Do you remember anything about why you are here?'
The woman shook her head. Not a whole lot was in her head. She raised her hands, and rather sloppily signed, (after a lot of deliberation of the gestures) 'I remember Eamon though. How is he now?'
Rowena pursed her lips. So the woman didn't remember anything within the last 3 years at least, apparently. 'He's gone. He died three years ago.'
The woman frowned. That was a shame. She knew Rowena and her brother didn't see eye to eye, but that didn't mean that Eamon deserved to leave this world prematurely. 'How?'
'Killed by my cousin. Just like my sister,'
she said quietly.
'Rheda's gone too?'
Rowena nodded. She sighed and then asked one final question, 'What was the last thing you remember?'
The noblewoman thought for a long time, then finally gestured, 'Asking Rhainnyn to leave our house.'
Rowena had young toddlers then, so that had to be around 10 years ago. Well damn, that was a lot of time to make up for. She motioned Zara over and then gestured at her.
Zara looked at Matilda, 'Lady Volorwin doesn't remember the past ten years,' she translated. That had been about how many years her mother had to recover too. And she still didn't have all those memories back. 'We should probably let the healers know that. And my Mother would like to discuss further care of Lady Volorwin with whoever is in charge of her care. Though there is no rush to do that just yet.'
Rowena smiled and then gestured again, though mostly at Lady Volorwin. 'Did it hurt when you said my name?'
Lady Volorwin shook her head.
' was it uncomfortable? You said my name quietly.'

Lady Volorwin paused for a moment, then grimaced as she trying saying Rowena's nickname a little louder. 'Annie.'
'Oh, Mama V, you don't need to try again.' She then held her friend's hand for a long moment, watching the woman's expression. The grimace took another moment to leave, but eventually it did leave.
'I can't talk loud.' She finally gestured, once she got the nerve to free her hands from Rowena's clasp.
'Okay. That's all right. I can't either. All this time and I still don't like to talk a lot.'
'But you can?'
'Yes.'
'Am… Am I sick? Like you were?'

Rowena pursed her lips, not sure if it was wise to tell the woman her suspicions just yet. Or anything that's been going on in Rohan.
'That's a yes.'
Rowena shook her head. 'It's a maybe.'
Those midnight blue eyes glared at Rowena like daggers. If looks could kill, Rowena would definitely be on her deathbed from that glare.
Rowena's eyes darkened in return, and her expression challenged Lady Volorwin's own. 'Mama V. I am not going to tell you anything different than what the healers here told you until I see your file and what has been done for you. It is not wise for me to jump to conclusions. I'm only here to tell your healers they may need to broaden their perspective.' She then gestured again to Zara.
Zara rolled her eyes and said, 'Mama just speak Rohirric and let the nurse speak Rohirric. It'd make life much easier.' When her mother's dark-steel eyes turned coldly on her, she huffed and translated for the nurse. 'Mama is saying that Lady Volorwin's language skills are minimal, though she tends to remember our visual language. Which incidently she is the one who taught us. We are willing to help you learn it so you can communicate with her. Mama also wants to know what all has been done for the lady, and would like to go through what she knows.'


@Nessa Saelind sorry its so long. I wanted to get in as much as possible lol so we can move this along)

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Nessa with Thea – Treatment room

Nessa held Thea in her arms, letting the girl cry as much as she wanted while she gently ran her hand through the girl’s wild locks. She continued murmuring gentle and soothing words; most of what she was saying made no sense, but the words themselves didn’t matter as much as her tone did. Nessa knew that Thea needed to go through this catharsis in order to heal. So she held the girl close, providing comfort, listening as Thea’s hysterical sobs eased turning into quiet crying.

In the end the girl’s tears were all spent and she reluctantly pulled back from Nessa’s arms. Thea whipped the remaining tears of her face with her hands and suddenly blushed when she looked at Nessa again.
- Sorry… Looks like I got you all wet! – Thea exclaimed and Nessa had to stop herself from laughing at the absurdity of it all. A few days ago she was going through her own catharsis, ruining her husband’s shirt by crying in his arms. She felt slightly guilty about it later, it seemed to be a trend, but it helped her. She could only hope that letting go and having a good cry helped Thea as well. But before she could tell the girl that everything was alright, because she looked like she was going to cry again, a groan from the bead interrupted them both. Thea stepped aside and Nessa quickly went to Tom’s side.

She looked at the boy who was shifting and slowly opening his eyes. She placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder in order to stop him from moving, the other automatically checking his pulse. Tom blinked as he tried to focus on her face and she noticed that although he was having trouble focusing his eyes, there was no abnormal eye movements and his pulse was slow, but not worryingly so.

- What happened? – The boy asked confused. – And why do I have a yucky taste in my mouth?
- The yucky taste in your mouth, as you put it, comes hand in hand with the throwing up business. – Nessa replied with a quirk of her lips. – And you were sick because you moved too much too quickly. So you’re going to be lying in bed and not moving for a few hours.
- But ma’am! – Tom exclaimed clearly, like every child his age, hating the very thought of being cooped up in bed.
- No buts little lion man! – She said looking at the boy sternly. – No sudden movements and strict bed rest for a few hours. I’ll give you some water and mint tea to wash the bad taste from your mouth, and you will drink slowly. Small sips. Understood? – She looked the boy who very carefully nodded his head, somewhat scared that he was going to be sick. Although he did not look pleased Tom understood that this needed to be done in order for him to get better so he could go home. – Alright, on the count of 3 I’ll carefully pick you up and carry you to that bed over there. – She gestured at the bed on the other side of the room. – Thea will sit with you and make sure you don’t move while I make you tea and bring some water and a basin so you can wash your mouth. Ready?
- Yes ma’am. – Tom replied and she carefully placed her right arm around his back and the left below his knees. She counted to three and lifted the boy up; he closed his eyes and she carefully carried him over to the bed and gently placed him there.
Straightening up she beckoned Thea over so she could watch over the boy so she could prepare what she needed to treat him.


***
Garden – NPC Matilda with Rowena and Zara Ellenweorc of Rohan and Lady Volorwin

As soon as Matilda finished her carefully worded introduction she noticed that hew words startled Lady Volorwin. The woman looked worried, unsettled, like the words Matilda spoke pushed something inside her and she was falling off the edge of a cliff. Before she could reach for Lady Volorwin the Marshal reached out for the woman and held her up.

Matilda quickly moved aside in order to allow the two women to communicate with each other, although she had no idea how they were going to do that since Lady Volorwin had difficulties with speaking after her stroke. Perhaps the gestures the Marshal and her daughter Zara used to communicate with each other could somehow be adapted to communicate.

She observed their interaction, at first both women tried to speak, but it was hesitant, slow and halting. But soon Rowena realised that Lady Volorwin was having trouble with understanding spoken Rohirric, so she tried communicating using the sign language that she used to communicate with her daughter. Lady Volorwin smiled and nodded her head when the Marshal started using sign language to communicate with her. Clearly using gestures that seemed familiar to her, although Matilda did not know what each gesture meant, made the process easier. She was surprised and pleased by this event, the Marshal’s arrival at the Houses of Healing was a stroke of good fortune for her elderly patient who has been silent for so long. The poor woman was stuck inside her own mind, unable to communicate with the rest of the world; maybe now with the Marshal’s aid they could change that.

- Lady Volorwin doesn’t remember the past ten years. – Zara translated her mother’s words. – We should probably let the healers know that. And my Mother would like to discuss further care of Lady Volowrin with whomever is in charge of her care. Though there’s no rush to do that just yet.

Matilda nodded to Zara acknowledging that she heard the request and made a mental note about her patient’s memory loss, but didn’t interrupt the Marshal or her patient. Lady Volorwin didn’t seem to be upset by this communication and Matilda thought it would do the elderly woman good if she could finally speak to someone, especially to someone she knew.

There was a flurry of hand gestures and after a while the Marshal again used the same gesture that seemed to signal that Zara should translate something, although the woman seemed a bit exasperated with her mother if Matilda was interpreting the situation correctly.

- Mama is saying that Lady Volorwin’s language skills are minimal, though she tends to remember our visual language. Which incidentally she is the one who taught us. We are willing to help you learn it so you can communicate with her. Mama also wants to know what all has been done for the lady, and would like to go through what she knows.

Matilda nodded, absorbing the information Zara gave her. She thought about Lady Volorwin’s case and realised that the first order of business was to establish who the attending healer was. The Houses of Healing had a lot of staff fluctuation during, and especially after the War. Many healers, apprentice healers and especially nurses moved from Minas Tirith and went back to their families. Other healers came back, and she heard a few of their wartime apprentice healers were coming back to complete their training. But that was for later when she had the time to go to the record room and look at the file and track down the attending healer and the ones who diagnosed her.

- Thank you for your help Marshal, mistress Zara. – She thanked both women. – If you are willing to teach me I would be very grateful to learn how to communicate with my patient. I will also pass the information on to the healers. Regarding your request to see the attending healers I will have to look at Lady Volorwin’s files to see who the attending healer was and if that person is still working at the Houses of Healing. There was a lot of staff fluctuation during and after the War, and that might prove a bit tricky to handle, but it will be done.
She/her.
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Thea with Nessa

Recovering from her small breakdown, Thea watched the interaction between Nessa and the boy with growing interest. Thea even allowed for a small smile as the boy's protests were kindly turned down by the healer. Now that she could think of other things than what had happened today, she could appreciate the woman's gift for making people listen and with a wider smirk realising she was one of them. But though Thea knew this woman did and said what she did because she was a healer, she knew in her heart that this woman was not faking it, she truly cared.

Had she not been called over to sit by Tom, she would likely have wallowed on the fact that she was not being completely truthful with this woman, but pushed it aside with a promise that should Nessa ask, she would not lie to her. Seating herself carefully on the bed so that she did not disturb and thereby hurt the boy with her movements, she looked at him with a sad guilty look that she couldn't quite hide. She knew she had not done this to him and she did feel she had made the correct choice by bringing him here and not leaving him, yet she still felt that he would not have been hurt if it had not been for her.

"What was you name again, Miss?" The boy looked at her with a slight squint, as if he couldn't see her clearly.

Carefully she moved a little closer in hopes that would make it easier for him to see her. "Thea. Call me Thea." she answered with a small careful smile. She gave him a moment to digest it before asking "Tom, I would like to go get your parents, do you know where you live?"

"Uhhh.." he scratched his head and winced briefly as if in pain.

"Oh, it's ok if you don't! Do not hurt yourself trying to recall!" she hurriedly added, terrified she had caused him pain from trying to think too hard.

Tom flashed a small smile, managing to stop himself from shaking his head. "It's ok Miss- err I mean Thea. I just accidently touched the bump. I live right next to the grocers, you know.. Miss Liriel?"

"Yes, I know of her." Thea smiled back at him, "Once Nessa comes back, I will inquire about going to go get your parents."

"Oh, it is just me and my Da, I don't have a mother, she died in the war." He answered with no hint of that statement upsetting him, though he quickly added "Can you see if my red wagon is at home? Please?" He looked at her with way more emotion when speaking of his red wagon than he did when speaking of his mother. Likely he was really young when she passed away, Thea mused before answering with a smile. "Of course I will. Will your father be home at this hour? He is not at work?"

"Nah.. he is.. um what's the word.. as in he is not in the army anymore.." his brows furrowing and making him wince as he tried to recall the word.

"Retired? Discharged?" Thea offered, not wanting him to strain so much.

"Yes! That's it, retired. He said that he never wanted to fight in another war, ever again..." The boy settled back, shifting slightly as if the topic was uncomfortable for him.

"Ok, no worries, I will find him and bring him here and find out about your wagon too." That seemed to settle Tom down a bit, though it did leave Thea wondering what had made Tom uncomfortable about his dad.

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Gardens - Two Ellenweorcs and a Volorwin
When Zara translated for Rowena what the nurse said, Rowena pursed her lips. She did not like the uncertainty one bit. Her eyes narrowed, steel gaze darkened, and a soft growl formed in her throat.
'Mama… Calm down,' Zara ordered. 'It's a complicated situations on all accounts.'
Rowena turned her head sharply turning her glare on her daughter and said, 'Then I'll uncomplicate it. We're taking Lady Volorwin home with us. TODAY.'
'WHAT?!'
'That's my decision, and as the closest thing to living family she has, I dare say it is within my right to make that decision.'
'She's got actual living family though --'
Zara commented.
'And that living family is under my care, conditionally or he ends up imprisoned.'
'Mama, think about this. Please. Nurse Matilda seems friendly enough, and clearly Lady Volorwin is alive. They've done something right.'
'That's nice, but she's not LIVING is she?'
'Mama, I know this is particularly hard for you. Go take a walk to calm down,'
Zara said gently putting her arms around her mother's shoulders. 'Please?'
'Fine.' Rowena plucked her daughter's arm from around her shoulders and walked toward the lilies Zara had pointed out earlier.
Zara sat down and sighed. Well, at least for the brief moment she wouldn't have to serve as her mother's translator.
'Who does your mother have under in her care?' Lady Volorwin asked
'Well, one of your grandchildren is here in Gondor helping figure things out.'
'One of?'
'As far as I know, you have two. Gemma and Rhainnyn. Gemma is around 20 I think, and Rhainnyn is 28.'
She furrowed her brows. 'And it's Rhainnyn helping your mother?'
'Mhm.'
'What about Gemma?'
'We lost contact with her and her mother a few years ago, and haven't been able to find them.'
'Do you think--'

Zara shrugged her shoulders. 'I don't know. Mama keeps to herself about the things she suspects your son did.'
'She still tries to carry everything herself.'

Zara nodded.
'I'll go with you.'
'What?'
'I want to help. And I know that no matter how much she is trying to hold back, she suspects this memory loss and the other weaknesses I've accumulated are at my son's request.'

Zara sighed, 'I'll tell your nurse, but I really don't think it's up to any of us to decide.'
'I am the patient am I not? And I want to get out of here. It's lovely, the people are nice, but I'm tired of being treated like a sad little old lady who is helpless. And I know the LAST person in the world who would treat me like that is your mother.'

Zara laughed. 'Yeah. She has a stubborn streak a few miles long, and she'll kick your hindquarters before she'll let you say you're a sad helpless little old lady.' She paused and said, 'Are you sure? It will mean likely staying with us in Rohan…'
'I'm certain.'

Zara looked at Matilda and sighed. 'Mama doesn't like the uncertainty of everything going on around here, and wants to bring the good Lady home with us. Constant care of trained haelends will be with her, we all speak the language she does. But furthermore, Lady Volorwin says she wants to be discharged into my Mama's care.'
Zara looked like she had mixed feelings about this, but in the end it wasn't up to her. She then stood up abruptly, and rushed over to her mother, and spoke in rapid Rohirric. 'Mama… I just had a terrible thought…'
'What?'
'I think we need to take a close look at Cuthbert's activities all over again… What if he tried the Isen clove potion on himself first?'
'WHAT?!' Rowena stared at her daughter, but it did make sense. How else would he know exactly how to use it if he hadn't tested it? And he was already insane, it wouldn't be a far stretch for him to poison himself. She then shook her head, 'Even if he did poison himself, it doesn't change what he did, Zara. He clearly had the same capacity mentally as before. He thought clearly and was able to execute planned and coordinated endeavors.'
'If you say so.'
'Zara, I don't need to go another investigative route when he's DEAD! I'm just trying to make sure it doesn't continue.'
'All right Mama. Keep walking around, I'm going to go back and talk to Nurse Matilda again.'
'Okay.'
'Love you.'
'You too, Zara.'
Zara dashed back to Lady Volorwin and Matilda.

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Nessa with Thea – Treatment room

Nessa watched as Thea carefully sat on the bed next to Tom; soon the two started talking and she smiled. While the two of them talked she needed to clear up things so she could continue her work. Firstly, she went over to the treatment table and picked up the bowl with ice that was slowly starting to melt. She also took the damp washcloth with the ice chips that Thea used as a cold compress. Things in hand she went to the left side of the room and placed everything on the cabinet she was using as a working station.

Before she could start preparing the infusion of mint and athelas for Tom there was a quiet knock on the door. Before she went to open the door she glanced toward Thea and Tom and noticed that the discrete knock didn’t disturb their conversation. She quickly walked to the door and opened it to see a girl in her teens dressed in a dove grey kirtle and matching tunic, a white apron covering her clothes, was standing next to a trolley with cleaning supplies.

- Madame de Argosy? – The teen asked and Nessa’s lips quirked at the girl’s unintentional mishap. Honestly, if there was any fault it was her own for using her family name to introduce herself in the first place. She should have used her husband’s surname, but some habits die hard. She nodded and the girl smiled at her shyly. – I’m Grace, ma’am. Mistress Angelica sent me over to clean the room. I hope I’m not disturbing?
- Of course not, Grace. Please come in. – Nessa said with a smile, glad that she could finally connect a name with a face. She moved away from the door allowing the girl to push the trolley with the cleaning supplies into the room before she closed the door. As did so, she caught the familiar scent of the cleaning solution and disinfectant; instinctively she placed her hand on her abdomen feeling the echoes of pain. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to anchor herself to the here and now.
- Are you alright ma’am? – Grace asked concerned and Nessa managed to extract herself from her memories and smile slightly to the girl.
- Sorry, yes. I’m fine. The smell just reminded me of the War… – She fibbed and walked back to her work station, allowing the teen to do her job instead of worrying about her.

She took a tray and placed a small bowl, a ewer with water in which she placed some ice chips and three cups. One was empty, another was filled with the infusion of mint tea and athelas, and in the last was mint tea. She took a fresh washcloth and placed some ice on it and wrapped it. She carefully walked toward the bed where Tom and Thea were, making sure she didn’t disturb Grace who was almost finished cleaning up. She placed the tray with everything on it on the nightstand next to the bed.

- Alright Tom, let’s freshen you up a bit. – She said with a smile and gave him the empty bowl. He looked slightly confused so she explained while she poured the cold water from the ewer to the empty cup. – Wash your mouth out with cold water first, spit in the bowl. Then carefully gurgle the mint tea in your mouth, spit in the bowl and rinse and repeat until you feel better. Just, please do this slowly. – She stressed. – I don’t want you getting nauseous again. After you finish doing that, you’ll carefully sip the infusion that I prepared for you and I’ll put some more ice on that bump of yours to lower the swelling.

She paused to let her instructions sink in and after a few moments Tom slowly started following her instructions. She and Thea watched him for any signs of nausea, but he seemed to be doing fine. After he finished washing out his mouth, she took the bowl away and gave him the cup with the mint and athelas infusion and he slowly sipped it.

- If you’re feeling up to it Tom, could you please tell me about your parents or guardians? – She asked carefully as she didn’t know anything about the boy’s family. – I need to contact them and let them know that you’re here, and that you’ll be staying in the Houses of Healing for observation. Also I need to give them instructions on how to take care of you once you’re home. I’ll also write them down, so there’s no need to worry.


***

Garden – NPC Matilda with Rowena and Zara Ellenweorc of Rohan and Lady Volorwin

Matilda quietly observed Zara as translated what she said to her mother, using the sing language. She tried to focus on the gestures the woman used seeing if she could perhaps figure out which gesture meant what, but Zara’s hands moved too quickly for someone who was inexperienced in communicating in sing language. Learning this new form of communication was going to be a challenge, but one that she looked forward to mastering.

However, when Zara finished, she looked at the Marshal, and by her behaviour Matilda saw that the woman was not pleased by what she was told. She suppressed a sigh, there wasn’t much she could do about the Marshal’s displeasure. So she just stood there unobtrusively and tried to figure out what was being communicated by observing the body language of the three women in front of her. After a few moments the Marshal got up and walked over to the lilies, probably at her daughter’s suggestion, and so Matilda focused on Lady Volorwin who started communicating with Zara using hand gestures. Moments later Zara turned to her and sighed.

- Mama doesn’t like the uncertainty of everything going around here, and wants to bring the good Lady home with us. – She said and Matilda raised an eyebrow at this. – Constant care of trained haelends will be with her, we all speak the language she does. But furthermore, Lady Volorwin says she wants to be discharged into my Mama’s care.

Before Matilda could make a comment Zara abruptly got up and rushed to her mother’s side. The nurse sighed and resigned herself to waiting patiently for Zara to arrive, and soon she did.

- Regarding the request to discharge Lady Volorwin from our care… – Matilda said after a pause. – It’s not unusual for family members to ask for this. However, it is not up to me. You will have to submit your request to the Warden. A final decision will be made after Lady Volorwin’s case is reviewed, and the healers and nurses who took care of Lady Volorwin give their opinions about this. Of course everything you and the Marshal say will be taken into consideration as well. – She paused aware that this was not the answer anyone wanted to hear, but rules and protocols had to be observed and they were there for a reason. – I am aware this is not the answer you wanted to hear, but I need to let you know what you have to do if you are determined to go through with this. When the Warden asks for my opinion, based on what I have observed, I will recommend that Lady Volorwing be released into your care. But I am just one part of the equation…
She/her.
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Thea with Nessa

Thea watched with interest as Nessa brought over the bowls, her brows furrowing slightly as she too was confused what they might be for. Though as soon as it was explained, her brows raised and she nodded her head, feeling slightly foolish that she had thought there was some odd ritual needed with the three bowls. Though not the healer and with Nessa stood right next to her, she still watched Tom like a hawk, worried that any movement he made would make him dizzy or cause more pain, but he managed it all without any trouble at all and as he finished she let out a breath she did not know she had been holding.

Thea smiled as Nessa asked what she had just asked Tom, though did not interupt until the woman was finished. Sensing that Tom might feel uncomfortable talking about his father again, she quickly spoke up. "He already told me Miss- uh Nessa. He lives next to the grocer with his father. If you don't mind and seeing as I am the expendable one, I would like to head out and go and get him if that is ok with you?" It was not just eagerness to leave, as she really did want to make sure that Tom was ok, nor was she looking to run away as soon as she could, it was more a sense of needing to put things right and at the moment that seemed to be to go and get the boy's father. So as she spoke, she stood and started making her way towards the door, almost afraid that Nessa would not allow her to leave.

"It's not far from here, I should be back in no time! And don't worry Tom, I will make sure to check for your wagon!" Turning, she almost bumped into a young girl not much younger than her and quickly excused herself "Ooops, so sorry, didn't see you there.." while at the same time backing towards the door. Opening it quickly she gave them all a quick smile and then headed out, the pouch of money thumping against her hip with every step and reminding her of what had happened earlier.

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Nessa – Treatment room

When she asked Tom about his parents or guardians it wasn’t just so she could find out who they were and where they lived; she needed to assess if the boy had any memory problems. Although, without knowing more about her patient the assessment would be an interesting challenge. However, instead of her patient Thea was the one that provided the answer.

- He already told me Miss… uh Nessa. – Thea quickly corrected herself, and continued speaking quickly as Nessa turned toward her and listened. – He lives next to the grocer with his father. If you don’t mind and seeing as I am the expendable one, I would like to head out and go and get him if that’s ok with you?

Before Nessa could even make a comment Thea already stood and started to make her way toward the door. She arched her eyebrows in amusement and observed the girl as she continued speaking.

- It’s not far from here, I should be back in no time! And don’t worry Tom, I will make sure to check for your wagon! – Thea exclaimed and as she turned, she bumped into Grace and offering a quick apology the girl almost bolted out the room like someone or something was chasing her. Nessa chuckled, shaking her head at Thea’s actions; the girl was like a little whirlwind. Both Grace and Tom were looking towards the door with confused looks on their faces.

- Well that’s settled. – She spoke with an amused quirk of her lips. – Grace, when you finish could you please take all the bowls I used so they could be washed and disinfected.
- Of course ma’am. – Grace replied with a slight nod of her head.
- Thank you. And if it’s not too much of a problem, could you please tell mistress Angelica to arrange that a bowl of plain porridge or biscuit be broth here for Tom?
- Yes ma’am. – The girl said and Nessa thanked her with a smile before turning to Tom who drank half of the mint and athelas infusion. Taking the ice wrapped in the washcloth she moved to place it on the bump on Tom’s head, when he lifted his hand and she halted.

- I can do that ma’am. – The boy said. – If it’s alright with you?
- Of course it’s alright. – She replied and handed the washcloth with ice to the boy showing him how and where to apply it. Tom looked visibly relieved as he held the cold compress on the swelling on his head.

When Grace bid them goodbye and exited the room Nessa went to fetch her satchel from the cabinet she placed it in and returned to take a seat next to the boy who observed her actions. She moved the chair next to the bead closer to the nightstand, and moving the tray with the cups a bit so she’d have room, she took out a piece of parchment and a pencil from the satchel.

- What are you doing? – Tom asked curiously, and then smiled sheepishly. – Sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean to be rude.
- It’s quite alright. – She replied with a smile. – I’m just going to write some notes on your condition, what I did to treat you… Later I’ll copy this information and it will be added with the other patient files here at the Houses.
- Oh… – Tom said sounding a bit surprised. She smiled at him and started writing her notes in shorthand; she frequently lifted her head to check on the boy who was curiously watching her as she wrote.
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Naela
Reception


Naela stood off to one side of the entrance to the Houses of Healing barely able to believe the day had finally come, her eager blue eyes taking it all in. It was her eighteenth birthday today and she was finally old enough to seek a position as an apprentice healer. She had done all she could to read up on as much as she could in the library, however text was never a substitute for actually learning it on the job and she was desperate to get some actual training. It had not even occured to her before this instance that they were maybe not even hiring at the moment.

"No. No negative thoughts. Stay posititve like Grandmama always said." She muttered under her breath as she checked her long dark brown hair that had been tied tightly back into a braid to make sure no locks had escaped from it on the walk over here. Moving her hands from her hair, she straightened her dress for the umpteenth time, having gone for one of the grey dresses she had seen the other healers wear. There was not a wrinkle in the cloth to be seen as she had spent all of the last evening pressing every single fold and wrinkle out until the cloth was as straight as it could ever be.

"You can do this. You can do this. Deep breath. You got this." She muttered to herself before she took another long deep breath and forced herself to take the first step forward. After that it became easier with each step and before she knew it she was at the door. She only hesitated a moment before she pushed the door open and stepped into the cool interior. Heart racing so fast she felt as if it was going to burst out of her chest, she swallowed hard and headed down the empty corridor and stepped into the reception area.

Reaching it she saw it was empty, now at a loss as to what to do. Nothing had prepared her for what she would do if no one was there to greet her, having practised several speeches for days. Scratching her temple, she looked around as she bit her lip, wondering what she was supposed to do or how to get someones attention. How would they know she was there? Was she supposed to call out? No, that did not seem right, not with how quiet it seemed to be in here.

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Pele Alarion, master healer
Reception


It felt good to go about what used to be normal daily work again, and Pele found herself enjoying the brisk walk from the barracks to the Houses of Healing, no matter how brief it was. She was still dressed in her Ranger uniform, and intended to change as soon as she could for the duties that required a different approach. She was whistling softly, as she opened the door to reception and stepped inside, but stopped immediately when she saw someone waiting there.

"Hello,"
she greeted, coming closer to the visitor and by habit scanning Naela for any possible injuries. "I am master healer Pele Alarion. Any way I can help you?"

A small smile touched her lips and lingered in her blue eyes, as she waited to see whether the visitor was in need of medical help, or perhaps here to visit a patient, or maybe even to apply for a job.
~ I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren ~

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Naela
Reception


"Oh, um yes.." She had jumped a little as the door suddenly opened, unprepared for someone coming in from behind her. For a few long moments she was taken aback by the Ranger uniform, though in this day an age she guessed that many people held more than one job. Still, it threw her off knowing that the Master Healer was in the Rangers as well. To her it almost seemed like it was two completely opposite jobs, one taking lives and the other saving them.

Pushing on, not wanting to seem like she was dimwitted or not supposed to be here, she put on a sincere smile and greeted the woman. "My name is Naela and I um.. I was hoping to apply to become a healer myself. I have been studying old text books in the library for years though am hoping to get some actual training." her voice trailed off as she forgot all of the speeches that she had been practising for days, a slight warmth creeping to her cheeks.

"I don't know who or where I am supposed to apply to, hopefully I am in the right place?" She could not help it as she nervously fidgeted with the skirt of her dress, not expecting to actually be asking this of the Master Healer herself.

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Master Healer Pele Alarion with Naela
Reception --> Study


Pele could see that her uniform must be confusing the young woman, and a merry spark found its way into her eyes.

"Ah! Healers are always needed," she welcomed the wishes expressed by the newcomer with similar words as she had heard from Durien upon her return. "And it is excellent that you have read the books; they hold a wealth of knowledge. The thing is trying to get it from theory to application, but suppose you will see... Why don't we head to the study? I will get an appropriate attire, and then we can talk a bit more in detail and see about setting you up for training."

She beckoned for Naela to follow and led the way to the study. It was not far from reception so that the healers could be summoned easily if need arose, so they arrived sooner rather than later.

"Make yourself comfortable," Pele motioned to the wooden chairs by the round table in the centre of the room, and then to a pair of more comfortable-looking armchairs by the bookcases. "I will join you in a moment." With that she hastened through another door leading into the healers' quarters.
~ I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren ~

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Naela with Pele Alarion
Reception - Study


Naela failed to hold back the whoosh of relief at hearing that there was always a need for healers, glad that she was not going to get turned away. It had been her passion ever since the War and it had frustrated her to no end that she had only just reached an age where she could persue it. She did not even know what else she would do if she got turned down now, having spent so long working towards becoming one herself. At the suggestion to head to the study, she nodded eagerly, even though it still made her nervous that she was being helped by the Master Healer. She would have to make extra sure to impress the woman and not give her any cause to regret taking her on.

As they reached the study, she stepped in behind Pele and smiled a thank you, giving a nod as the woman stepped out to change. Naela quickly perused the room, though did not take a seat in any of the chairs in the room. Instead she headed straight for one of the many bookshelves, her fingertips moving lightly over some of the many volumes of books. She recognised a few, though one of them drew her attention.

'She did say make yourself comfortable' she thought to herself as she bit down on her lip and pried the book out. Carefully she flicked through the pages, her jaw dropping at the many illustrations of various ailments. There had not been many books in the library that held illustrations and she figured those were rightfully so held here where they were needed. She stopped on one page, her fingers tracing a detailed picture of an organ and she had to read the text to see what it was. "A liver?" she mumbled to herself, quickly reading what she could about it before Pele returned.

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Maenion
Herbalist


As soon as he stepped out into his beloved garden the sun bright up overhead, he flinched as if he had been struck, one hand rising to shield his eyes. "Oh.." he groaned in pain, the sunlight too much for him to bare, yet he continued on. As he stepped onto the well manicured pathway, that he himself had tended to only a few days ago, he was wracked with another long wet cough that almost brought him to his knees. Clutching one hand to his chest and the other flying out to steady himself against a small statue of girl holding a bouquet of flowers, he fought to regain his breath. A wave of dizziness kept him bent half over, the laboured breathing threatning to start a new round of coughs. He was finding it harder and harder to catch his breath, almost feeling like he had been running or hyperventilating.

He could hear the rattle his lungs made when he breathed this fast, knowing the air was not going all the way into his lungs. Pushing unsteadily from the statue, he continued on, his brows furrowed in pain from the sunlight. Weaving slightly he made it to the particular herb bed he was looking for. He already had the ginger and honey steeping in the hot water, though had realised he did not have any fresh peppermint left. Hence his trip out into the gardens. On any other day he would have relished the sun on his face, tanning his already golden skin more and lightening his dark brown hair like it did every summer. You would always find him here, tending to the many herbs or making sure that the grass was meticously kept in pristine condition, almost not a single straw out of place. These were "his" gardens, if not legally, then by the mere fact that he ensured they stayed as beautiful as they were now, spending almost all of his free time here, either reading a book or plucking away at the weeds that barely had a chance to grow here.

But right now it hurt to look at the bright colours, wincing as he carefully and slowly knelt down by the peppermint plant, feeling too unsteady to just bend and pick a few leaves. With shaking hands he plucked several, taking more than he needed at the moment so that he did not have to come back for more later. Fumbling a bit with the pouch that was tied to his belt, he finally managed to place the leaves inside, the act leaving him breathing raggedly. As he placed the last leaf in, he could feel the familiar tickling growing in his chest again and with a small groan the coughing began again. Long wracking coughs tore at his lungs, making them feel like they were going to burst in his chest. It never felt like he managed to catch his breath in between, leaving him feeling even more lightheaded. On hands and knees, his body cramped with each cough to the point where he coughed so hard that he threw up.

As the stars played in his vision making it hard to see, he slowly wiped his mouth with a shaking arm as the coughs and the violent cramps in his stomach slowly subsided. Swallowing hard he winced at the bitter taste in his mouth and reached out and plucked an extra peppermint leaf to chew on. Hand shaking he managed to put it in his mouth, chewing it slowly as he shifted so that he could get up off the ground. But as he moved a sudden chill shook through his body, forcing him to wait it out. He could feel the sweat spring to his forehead and once more raised an arm to wipe away the trickle that went down the side of his face. Teeth chattering so loudly that it was almost painful, he again tried to rise. There was nothing close by that he could use to steady himself on, forcing him to awkwardly wobble on his shaking legs as he finally got them under himself.

"S-slow now.." he mumbled to himself, placing his hands on his knees and slowly rolling his aching back upright. Just as he had made it half way he felt the horrible tickle begin once more. "Not yet.." he wheezed trying to straighten quicker than he should have. However as he rose far too quickly, the bright stars in his vision turned black, making him try and wipe his eyes so he could see, though even before his hands managed to get up to his eyes he lost conciousness and slumped to the ground.

Faramir
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Master Healer Pele Alarion
Study with Naela


Having stepped into the private chambers of the healers, Pele did not take long to exchange her Ranger uniform for a simple grey dress with two front pockets. The dress was comfortable enough to work in, and the pockets often came in handy, as there were usually various items that she needed to have with her. Neatly folding her uniform she put it away in the wardrobe assigned to her, and then approached the door to the study.

Her steps were quiet, and for a few moments she stood in the doorway, observing Naela browsing through a book. It was good that the young lady was drawn to knowledge, and Pele was quite confident that it would spring to life and translate into actions, given the opportunity.

"Tell me what is it that you have found to be so fascinating in that book?" she asked, entering back into the room and standing next to the table with her arms folded. "And would you be able to find any practical uses for the information you have just absorbed?" She wanted to see how Naela would react when faced with sudden questions, and what answers she would be able to provide.


~~~~~
Garden, finding Maenion (some other time than the above)

A book under her arm, Pele slipped out into the garden, deciding to take refuge out there from the walls of the buildings and the constant cares that almost were a must there. Besides, this time she had not chosen a medical book, but a light-hearted, yes, even romantic novel that would give her mind a break from everyday stuff. Quickly she walked along the path to get to her favourite hideout, but then her eyes fell on something... someone lying on the ground, right in the way.

Pele stopped for a briefest of moments, and then hurried to the fallen person. Placing the book by the path, she knelt by the human heap and upon closer inspection found that it was Maenion. She had heard reports that the man was not doing very well lately, though she had not been able to check up on him personally. Carefully rolling him on his back, she placed her fingers against the side of his neck to feel for pulse and then listened for breathing. Then she pressed the back of her hand against his forehead to feel for temperature, as she looked around for help.

No one was in view, and she did not want to lift her voice in order to shout for help; and yet it would be best to take the man inside. Carefully rolling him unto his belly, Pele shifted her position to kneel by his head. She slid her arms under his armpits and interlocked her fingers behind his back, slowly rising to her feet and dragging Maenion up with her, trying to support the motion more with her leg strength, rather than back. Fortunately for her, the man had lost quite a bit of weight (and she had recovered some of her strength), which made the task of lifting him easier on her. Draping his right arm across her shoulders, she bent down and moved his body further across her shoulders. It was with some difficulty that she got up again and made her way with her burden for the nearest recovery room.

Pele made it into a vacant room and deposited Maenion in bed just before she felt that her knees would give way, sending them both crashing to the ground. She straightened up to rest her back and wiped the sweat off her forehead with a sleeve. Then she took to setting up a tower of pillows behind Maenion's back so that he ended up in a reclining position.

"Maenion!" she then called him. "Don't you give me a scare. Wake up!"
~ I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren ~

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Naela with Pele
Study


The more she read the more engrossed she became and did not hear Pele returning. Though Pele's voice was quiet, Naela still jumped letting out a small squeak and looking in Pele's direction with wide eyes. Heart fluttering, her cheeks flushed with embarassment at having been startled, though praised the Valar that she did not drop the big book. "Gosh you startled me.." she said apologetically. "I was miles away.." she added a small chuckle that ended in a embarassed cough.

She took a few steps towards Pele, extending the book in front of her. It did not seem that she was embarrassed about looking in the book, quite the contrary she seemed eager to share what she had just read and seen depicted. "It's a liver! I have never actually seen one drawn out, they don't have many books in the library where there are illustrations, I guess they are kept here, which seems like the wise thing to do as you need them most.." Her voice trailed off as she realised that she was rambling a million miles an hour.

Taking a breath she thought for a moment about the other question that Pele had asked. "I don't know about practical uses persay. This book seems to be more explaining how it is "built" rather than any diseases and cures. But it did say that the liver cleanses the blood! I have no idea how, but that seems quite important and I would think that if you damaged the liver in any kind of way then it might not clean your blood and I would think that would make you quite sick.." She looked at Pele questioningly, wondering if the woman knew the answer.


***
Maenion
Recovery room


"Maenion! Don't you give me a scare. Wake up!"

Mama? I am not trying to scare you! I will get up in a second, promise! In his fevered dream he rolled onto his side and pulled the blanket over his head. So tired. I am so tired. Just five more minutes Mama, I will get up then.

Maenion groaned softly, his head slowly moving from side to side, though the urgent call from Pele did not wake him.

Gosh it was hot today, Maenion wiped the sweat off his brow with the white kerchief that his mother had embroidered for him many years ago when he first started at the House of Healing. But no matter how much he wiped his forhead, it seemed to get drenched immediately. Blinking quickly he peered up at the hot sun overhead, lips smacking stickily together. He would give a kingdom for a glass of water right now.

Maenion rattled out a wet groan again, a wobbly hand moving to claw at the neckline of his shirt as if it was too tight around his throat.

HA HA! Catch me if you can!! A girlish screech followed and Maenion looked around wildly before finally seeing his younger sister, Tarawen. She had grabbed the waterskin and was starting to run away with it. Tara! You bring that right back, you hear! His voice croaked with thirst, angering him as he desperately needed a drink. Tara! Get back here!! He was starting to get more angry with her as no matter how fast he ran towards her, she seemed to stay the same distance away, exhausting him. Bending over double he felt a wave of dizziness, almost begging his sister for the water. Tara.. please.. I need it.

Maenion's hands waved out in front of him before flopping back onto the bed, a hoarse "Tara.. water" whispered followed by another groan that seemed to rattle loudly through his chest.

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Master Healer Pele Alarion with Naela
Study


"A liver?" Pele repeated, taking a quick glance at the book, as she listened to Naela sharing the bits she had managed to gather during this short time. "Well, it is a rather essential organ indeed, it is located hereabouts." Her hand came to rest on the her right side of her abdomen, just under the rib cage. "Can't really show you a real one without cutting open some unfortunate patient, so you'd have to trust that book on how it looks," she added with a small chuckle.

"If you want to know," the healer continued, spurred on by the young lady's curiosity. "It can be damaged by such things as impure water, bad food, drinking too much alcohol, eating too much and slacking around so you go overly fat... If you see someone with yellowish skin and eye-whites such a person might have liver problems, they might also have stomach pain, vomiting, loss of appetite." She paused for a moment, "Also... if you take care of their chamber pot - you'd notice pale poop and dark urine."

"Well then, if you are serious about learning the art of healing, Naela, would you be willing to start right now?" Pele inquired, as she had a bit of time to devote to starting Naela's training at the moment.


~~~~~~
With Maenion
Recovery room


Pele watched Maenion closely for a few moments wondering just how he had gotten to this point of ill health without her being in the know. But then again she had not been present for a fairly long time. With a sigh she set about finding a bowl from within the shelves of a small cupboard in the room. In it she poured some of the cold water from the pitcher, and some water went into a clay mug.

Dipping a clean cloth into the bowl she wrung out the excess water and placed it carefully on Maenion's forehead in an attempt to relieve some of the fever. However, she was in doubt whether she could safely give him water to drink since he had not come around fully. Dipping a corner of another cloth into the mug she dabbed the moisture on his lips carefully.

"Maenion! Look at me," she called again, not wanting to have him drink water without him aware of what was going on.

Meanwhile Pele's mind was already racing with what had to be done next. She would have to find some medication for him, make some tea... and even then she would not be sure that she would get him out of the clutches of the illness so easily. Also, she would have to send a message to his sister, as the condition was serious, and the consequences could be unpredictable.
~ I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren ~

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Naela with Pele
Study


Naela's eyes went wide when Pele joked that she could not be shown what a liver looked like, quickly shaking her head as of course she did not expect to see any. Surely that was left to surgeons, though she would have to ask as the idea of having to learn how to fix stuff internally overwhelmed her. As Pele moved on to list the many symptoms, her mind flashed back to people she knew or had been around, flicking through each to see if they had these ones. But she could not conjure up any where she thought they might have had it, apart from everyone she knew at one point or another suffering from stomach pains. But obviously there were other reasons for that.

She was so focused on trying to find some with symptoms of liver failure that she did not immediately catch what Pele had said, her mind taking a couple of second to catch up. But when it did her whole face lit with joy, barely able to stop herself from jumping up and down on the stop. Snapping the book shut and clutching it to her chest, she nodded eagerly, failing to downplay that part, her voice slightly strained as she gave her reply with some effort to not just squeal with joy. "Oh, I definitely can! I would love to!"


***
Maenion
Recovery room


Every laboured breath he took crackled, popped and rattled noisily in his chest. At times it was almost as if he was going to cough, though it then never happened as if he did not have the strength to. He went from lying deadly still where all that told of him not being dead was his rattling breath, to ranting and raving, calling out his family members names while trashing about.

It's mine! Father left it to me! Tarawen looked at him with hurt eyes, before grabbing the sword and storming out of the room. It should go to the first borrn son! He yelled after her, the rage burning hotly in his stomach. He had no business leaving it to you! He stormed over to where she had left the door open and yelled out the door It's always been given to the first born sons! Before he angrily slammed the door.


"Tara.." his voice was hoarse and sticky, barely able to whisper the name. Though all of a sudden he clawed at the imagined blanket, fevered eyes open and looking around wildly. But he did not see anyone who was actually there, his fevered mind taking him back to that last day he had seen his sister. "Tara? I need to find Tara." Leaning forward he tried to get up, hellbent on going out to find his sister.

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Tarawen
Reception


The hallway enveloped her in cool stillness and quiet, two things she'd sorely missed while climbing up and up through the city beneath the rising sun. She felt the heat dissipating from her exposed skin: neck, face, and forearms. Tara wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

She had received news of Maenion's illness as she left the lands around the Shire, relieved of her watch for the time. The master healer had written, "I am sending you this message to inform you - perhaps you would like to visit him? He does speak of you often and wishes for you to be present." What she had hoped would be a relaxing trip back to Osdolen to regroup and reconnect with her chosen brethren had become a rushed journey to the land of her birth.

Tara stopped suddenly on the threshold of the reception room as familiar sights and scents arrested her. She gathered herself, breathing slowly once more. The familiar bookshelf was still there. She took a few steps into the room and stopped before the shelf to let a finger trail along the cracked leather spine of an old book.

"Take this book and learn it well," Maendir had said suddenly one afternoon, holding out a reference of healing herbs. Tara had tucked her chin and looked down, avoiding the book. "Take it," he repeated, sternly this time. She had shaken her head ever so slightly, averting her eyes to avoid Maendir's scowl and the disappointment written on his face. She had chewed her bottom lip, in part because she wasn't sure she was excused and in part to continue her silent protest of a healer's life. "Fine, get out." Maendir had reclined resignedly in his seat, tossing the book onto the scrubbed table between them. She had run for the woods and not come in until dark that night.

She shook her head slightly to dislodge the unbidden memory and its attendant feelings of regret and anger. A small bunch of flowers on the table before her tried vainly to make her feel welcome and warmly invited. She frowned at them and called softly, "Hello?"
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

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Nessa with Tom – Treatment room

The boy and the healer sat in the treatment room in comfortable silence. Nessa was quickly jotting notes in shorthand on a piece of parchment, glancing at Tom who was still holding the washcloth with ice on the bump on his head. The colour was slowly returning to his face and the boy continued to observe the healer write with interest. As the minutes passed by Nessa noticed that Tom looked livelier, so she put down her pencil and stood up to check up on her patient. When the boy removed the cold compress she saw that the bump on his head, which was the size of a goose egg when he arrived, had shrunk, which explained Tom’s liveliness.

- Looks like the swelling had gone down nicely. – She told Tom with a smile. – And you’re looking livelier… How are you feeling?
- Kind of hungry… – The boy replied with a sheepish smile. – Sorry, ma’am.
- Nothing to apologise for. It’s good that your appetite is returning. – She told him as she sat down on the chair next to his bed. – Someone should be here soon with some porridge for you.

Tom looked cheered at the prospect of food, like any boy his age would and she was glad that he was on the mend. While they waited for a nurse or a member of staff to bring the boy his meal Nessa tried, with great care, to find out anything about the boy’s father. Thea didn’t offer much information, besides the fact that the boy had a living father and that they lived next to the grocers. Minas Tirith’s marketplace was in the 2nd circle, quite a walk from the Houses of Healing.

- Thea mentioned that you and your dad live next to the grocers… – She said carefully, observing the boy.
- Yes, right next to Miss Liriel. – The boy replied.
- Will your father be at home at this hour? – She asked, mindful that she still didn’t know much about the boy’s family situation.
- Should be… – Tom mumbled averting his eyes worrying Nessa in the process. She got the feeling that something was not as it should be, so she tried to approach the issue from a different angle.
- Can your dad read? – She asked and the boy looked up, startled by the question. When he slowly nodded she smiled and continued. – You saw me making notes about your condition.
- Yeah. You’re writing looks strange, ma’am! – Tom exclaimed. – I mean not like the writings I saw in the library. Do all healers write like that?
- I suppose if we have to write quick notes, yes, our writing does look strange. – She replied with a smile and glanced at her notes. They were written in shorthand, using the Pelargir dialect; she did it without thinking now after years of working with Roderic. – However, healers are not the only people who write in shorthand, using abbreviations and symbols for words. Clerks and notaries write like this too when they have to take notes. Of course, later on, they write the documents properly so everyone can read them.
- Can I learn how to write like that? – Tom asked and there was an eagerness in his eyes.
- Yes, if you work hard and practice you can learn. – She gladly replied, happy to see the boy animated. – However, the reason I asked you this is because I need to write an explanation about your condition for your father and instructions for your care when you are released from the Houses of Healing.

Tom was listening heedfully, however, he looked guarded. Before she could inquire further they both heard a soft knock on the door. Telling the boy she’d be right back Nessa stood up and quickly walked over to the door and opened it to find Grace behind it carrying a platter with two steaming mugs of tea, a bowl of porridge and a spoon. She moved over to let the girl in the room and Grace walked swiftly to Tom’s bed and carefully transferred the mugs with tea, the bowl and spoon on the nightstand next to the bed.

- Mistress Angelica sent some green tea for you and the patient, Mrs de Argosy. – Grace said with a smile. – She told me to tell you that you have to drink it and to come to see her in the staff room before you go home for the day.
- Thank you, Grace. – She replied chuckling slightly. – I’ll be sure to do that.

Grace nodded and saying her goodbyes left the treatment room. Nessa took her seat again took the mug with tea. She gestured to Tom to take the bowl with porridge.

- I know you’re hungry Tom, but please eat carefully. – She told the boy as he carefully took the bowl and spoon. - That porridge looks hot and you certainly don’t want to upset your stomach again. So slow and steady, please.


OOC: (@Winddancer you and Frost can stumble :lol: in any time.)
She/her.
Solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant
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Faramir
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Master Healer Pele Alarion with Naela
Study


"Excellent," Pele nodded with a smile, seeing Naela's eagerness to get down to business. "However, before we do anything more or less practical, I would like to know something more about yourself, since all I know is your name and that you would like to be a healer."

Pele sat on the edge of the table, showing that if Naela wanted to do the same, she could. "Say, where do you come from? Have you lived all your life here in the city? And what has made you interested in healing? Also... anything you would like to ask me about my background - since it would only be fair as I am posing lots of questions to you?"

She would have to make some official notes as well, and let the other healers know about Naela, so a bit more information would be helpful for these purposes. While paperwork was important, Pele much preferred to talk first, and then take notes after, as a face-to-face conversation without a solemn look of writing everything word by word right away would promote better communication.


~~~~~
Recovery room with Maenion

A deep frown settled on Pele's face, as she watched Maenion, and listened to his loud breathing. When he cried out and all but was ready to get out of bed and leave, the healer gently but firmly held him down.

"Shhhh... Easy, Maenion. I will find her for you," she assured him, though it was not clear whether he really could hear and understand her, even with his eyes open. "You just stay here and rest." Pele dipped the cloth in the cold water again, and placed it on his forehead again. The next step was clear: she would have to find a nurse or a healer apprentice to keep a close eye on him, while she made sure the message was on its way.

She waited a while to make sure that Maenion would not get out of bed, and then set out to find someone to come in her stead, while she would attend to the other matters at hand.


~~~~~
Reception with Tarawen (quite a long time after)

Pele had gathered two basketfuls of herbs from the garden to work on some new projects that she had undertaken, and stepped into the reception on her way to the storage, but as soon as she stepped inside her eyes settled on Tarawen.

"Hello," she said, setting the baskets down on the floor by the desk, and running a quick hand over her dress to brush away any stray herb leaves and pollen. "Is there any way I can help you?" her blue eyes smiled warmly, though they keenly observed the newcomer to determine her possible needs and the following actions that would be required.
~ I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren ~

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Naela with Pele
Study


Naela returned the smile and sat down next to Pele, her hands nervously wringing in her lap. She had dreaded this moment, though she knew it would come. At least she had gotten the offer before she had shared this though. "I uh.. of course." She swallowed hard, looking down at her hands briefly before taking a deep breath and looking back up at Pele.

"I am the granddaughter of Shaela, named after her if you couldn't tell.." her words trailed off as she explained where her name came from, like she was used to having to do that. "I am sure you remember her? She retired after some kind of incident here a few years back, I think right after the war. She never did say what it was, only that she was done with elves. Never could get her to talk about it, still can't. She hasn't been my biggest supporter since I made it clear I wanted to do this."

Once more her eyes dropped to her hands, her fingers fiddling with the gray skirt. "But she did come around eventually, when she realised I was not going to give up on my dream to heal, though she did try and get me to go to Rohan. But I have been here in Minas Tirith all my life and well, I don't want to leave my family. At least not yet." Looking back up at Pele, she smiled warily, hoping that Pele wouldn't feel like she had been deceitful. She was just so passionate about getting in on her own merits and not on her grandmother's.

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Tarawen
Reception with Pele


A woman (Pele) carrying two baskets laden with herbs walked into the room just as she called out. When the woman's blue eyes scanned her for signs of injury, Tara became suddenly aware of how filthy and exhausted she was. Her journey south had certainly taken its toll on her, but it was only now that someone was speaking to her that she realized how odd she must look. She felt heat rise in her face as she flushed with embarrassment.

"I received a letter several weeks ago," she began, pulling a worn piece of parchment from her pocket, "From Master Healer Pele Alarion, informing me that my brother was ill. I rode here as quickly as I could." She held out the letter even though the woman had not asked her for proof. "His name is Maenion. Do you know if he is still alive?"

Grey eyes met blue, and the question hung in the air between them, filling the room with tension - or so it seemed to Tarawen.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

Faramir
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Master Healer Pele Alarion with Naela
Study


When the healer-to-be explained her background, Pele listened intently, observing Naela, though not overbearingly so in an attempt not to intimidate the maiden.

"Yes, I know Shaela, though it did not occur to me right away that you were related," she smiled softly. "Also, I had not returned from my own absence yet, so I do not know all the details of the incident that made her retire, except for some rumour which I do not place much trust into. You know, rumours are rumours."

Pele was not intent on discussing the above-mentioned rumours, so she did not press the matter any further. If she interpreted her observations right, she could feel what could only be described as striving for independence. "Well, apparently your grandmother has agreed to you getting apprenticed here, and I don't see any reasons why you should not pursue your dream. Come, let us walk into the garden for a bit..."

Pele rose and led the way out of the room, expecting Naela to follow. "Say, have you already assisted someone, maybe yourself, even if it was just dealing with a bruised knee or such? I see that you have read many books, but I am also curious if you have done any little practical things in furthering your pursuit of the dream," she continued questioning the young woman, as they stepped out into the sunny garden.


~~~~~
with Tarawen
Reception - Garden - Recovery room


"Ah, the letter was from me. I am Pele Alarion," the healer acknowledged, and instead of taking the parchment, she enclosed that as well as Tara's hand in both of hers. "You must be Tarawen, in that case." Right away she continued to answer the question about her brother: "Maenion is alive, though it is a constant battle, and I am not sure if we will manage to win it. He is doing very poorly..."

"Come, I will take you to him," she urged, deciding to leave the baskets here for the time being and collect them later at a more convenient time. "That way..." She moved towards the same door she had just entered through. "Recovery rooms are in a different building."

Having gone through enough losses and trouble of her own, Pele's heart reached out to Tara, and as they walked she said: "Have you even found a place to settle in yet? It seems that you have just arrived and come all the way up here. If you have not, I can suggest you some places, or if you rather would have that, perhaps even arrange a spare room for you to stay close to your brother."

Pele's steps were purposeful, though not too hurried, as she took Tarawen to one of the other buildings by a garden path, and then into it. "He is here, in this room," she then said, opening the door.
~ I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren ~

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Thea

Finally she reached the Houses of Healing, the long walk having coloured her cheeks from the brisk walk all the way down to the second circle and back. Truthfully she had walked briskly on purpose, not wanting to walk alongside Tom's father and breathe in the disgusting air of stale alchohol. There was absolutely no pity for the man, if anything the walk back had made her feel more negative towards him, in her mind scolding him for what he had done to his son, the neglect, the alcohol, well everything.

Breathing heavily, she stopped by the doors and turned to make sure he was still behind her, though the street was empty. "Oh for the love of.." she growled angrily, at that moment refusing to walk all the way back down there to find him. No. She was not going to give him the satisfaction. She almost turned and headed in to the Houses of Healing, her hand on the door knob when she thought of how it would look if she came in without the father. "Damn his shoes.." She muttered to herself and instead dropped down to sit on the steps to wait. Five minutes. She would give him five minutes and if he did not show by then, then she would head in and say he did not want to come. Or go find him..

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Tarawen with Pele
Reception - Garden - Recovery Room


Tara inclined her head when the woman introduced herself as Pele Alarion. "Thank you for writing to me, Pele," she said, looking up again as Pele enveloped her outstretched hand in a gentle grasp. "I am indeed Tarawen. I'm very glad to hear I'm not too late, but . . ." She trailed off. She was not sure what else to say.

She nodded and followed Pele from the reception room and through a cool, fragrant garden. Plants rustled in the breeze; Tara was grateful for the moving air as it wafted over her. She half-heard the healer inquiring as to where she would be staying. "Oh, I stopped near our family's home in Anórien on the way," she replied, "but I don't yet have lodgings secured in the city. I would like to be close by if at all possible. What would you recommend? It's been so long since I was in the city . . ."

Before she received a recommendation on lodging, however, Pele was holding open the door to Maenion's room. Tara inhaled and blinked rapidly a few times, then stepped over the threshold and into the room to see her brother for the first time in years.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

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Maenion
Recovery room


The scene that greeted the young woman as she stepped into the room was that of a man lying in a bed with several pillows propping his gaunt figure up, his hand held up to a woman's face who was around the same age as him. She sat rigid in the chair, her dark brown eyes never leaving the man before her, the concern for his welfare more than evident and giving cause to suggest that she might be his wife. "I will bring the children by later to visit if you feel up to it, ok?"

Maenion did not get a chance to respond, if he even could as the woman realised someone had entered the room. Still holding his hand, she twisted around to see who it was. "Yes? May I help you?" Though before anyone could answer, the woman visibly jumped as it seemed the man had squeezed her hand. "What is it, darling? She asked with concern making her voice ragged. Maenion whispered a word, but she did not hear, having to stoop in to listen as he repeated it.

"Oh! It is!? Tarawen?" Turning back towards the young woman at the door and then looking at Maenion she gasped when she received a slight nod, though jumped to her feet when he suddenly almost doubled over with a racking wet cough that sounded like his lungs were being torn apart. "Easy! Eeeasy, darling. Shhh.. deep breaths.." The woman slowly rubbed his back, talking him through the fit. Finally the last racking cough stilled and he slumped back into the mountain of pillows, paler than he was before. Still holding Maenion's hand with one hand, the woman waved the younger woman over. "Please, come.."

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Eril

Finally, he arrived. How had it taken him so long to get here? It was the same distance away wasn’t it? Eril’s face was flushed red with exertion. He stopped by the walls of the Houses of Healing, leaning against it heavily as he regained his breath. His throat was dry. Reflexively, he brought his hand to his lips but only once his hand was touching his face did he realize that there was, in face, no bottle in his hand. He heaved a heavy sigh and looked up at the clouds as they went by. Somehow, in each of the clouds, no matter how they were shaped, looked like his wife. She was staring, glaring at him. He had failed her. There had never been any promises to one another about what he would do, but he saw the look of utter disappointment in the clouds and a wave of shame came over him.

Eril was not one to feel shame very often. He was the kind of man that made a decision and stopped thinking about it once he did. He thought so at least. He had believed all sorts of things about himself until the day she died. Then he’d stopped thinking about anything altogether. It had been easier that way. His son, the boy, Tom, had been a victim of that carelessness. Could Eril be better? He had spent so long digging himself into his own grave that he had quite literally forgotten that Tom even existed as more than a broken dream. A breeze blew in for the East. It felt good on his still overheating skin. He thought he could hear a whisper in that breeze. His wife’s voice, but he couldn’t make out the words. Still, it was comforting.

He sighed again, his fingers twitching from lack of bottle. He wanted a drink. He wanted to drink away the shame; it weighed so heavily on him. His shoulders slumped and there was a knot in his back that threatened to contort his entire body if he was not careful. He wanted to pain to go away, the responsibility, the pressure, the great weight of failure. He wanted it all to go.

No. Not yet.

He… he couldn’t. Not yet. He needed to go inside. Inside the Houses of Healing. A shudder ran through his body, one he felt all the way down to his extremities. He did not want to go inside. A feeling far different from shame began creeping up on him, like spiders crawling up his spine, the memory of his wife’s final days. In these very Houses of Despair. Was he about to relive the entire horrid emotional wagon ride with his son, the boy, Tom?

Even if he was, Tom deserved to have company. He straightened himself up and walked into the reception area.
"We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood. Our eyes have yet to open... Fear the Old Blood..."

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Thea
Reception and recovery room


Five minutes passed and there was still no sign of him. After ten minutes she stood from the steps, slowly pacing in front of the door. Internally a battle was raging, one side wanting to give up on him coming and just heading back in to Tom and Nessa, the other telling her that she needed to give him just a few more minutes or at the very least go look for him. Who knew, maybe in his drunken stupor he had fallen an hurt himself? A wave of guilt washed over her, making her sick to her stomach. While she did not care for the man one bit, she did not want him hurt. Biting on a nail, she wrestled with herself for another second before she decided to go look for him, if nothing else just to make sure he wasn't lying in some gutter somewhere.

A few yards down the road back towards Tom's house, she saw the slightly familiar figure of the man. Had she even gotten his name? Shaking her head she stopped in her tracks and waited for him to make his way up to her, though as he reached her, the man continued on, completely oblivious to her open mouthed stare as he ignored her and kept walking. Cheeks flushing hot with resentment she clenched her teeth and set off after him, insulted by his rude behaviour.

As the man paused in front of the building, this time she walked past him, leaving him to huff and puff and catch his breath. She almost slammed the door after herself, until she recalled where she was at the last second, catching the door and closing it quietly. Stepping into the reception, she waited for him to enter, again left wondering if he had turned back or passed out outside. "I am not going out to look." She huffed irritably, crossing her arms as she took a seat in one of the chairs.

A long while later, she finally heard the door open and quickly stood and as soon as he walked into the reception area she directed him where to go with a curt wave of her hand, her voice sharp and unforgiving. "Tom is this way.." Narrowing her eyes, she turned and walked towards the room Tom was in, giving the door a small knock before she opened it and peeked in. "Hey.. we are back, is it ok to come in?"

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Addhor Raxëlilta
Reception


It had been some thing of a walk to meet the height of the Sixth Circle, and not a particularly pleasant one, for all the splendour of the city he had passed. Lively exploits of those keen and sprightly all about their lives, cavorting so carefree, had made him further dejected to observe it all. He had lived through much, and doubtless should not succumb either to this recent affliction. Still the new nagging discomfort bade him have the silly matter attended and (he hoped) resolved, so that he might concentrate on other than the pain. The former Ranger was not expected and did not require to rush to meet an appointment; it was his day off. And while there was much about the world he might have found to do instead, or else to go instead, he nonetheless knew that might not be the case for long, were he not sensible now.

He had neglected to take the proper care afore now, and that had afforded him far worse in consequence. Deny the slightest infection about even a healed stump and find your limb struck all the shorter by procrastinating ! Even the proficient healers of Minas Tirith had been forced to sever some further length from his leg, once he had allowed it to fall to so sorry state. But that was then. This was now. And, determined to retain what he had thus far managed to adapt to, Addhor furthered up the path, the weight of the sun's heat carried in his complexion. Brown eyes searched the steps before he tried them, hesitant, but not from exhaustion. The Gondorian still had not conceived quite how he might explain what he had been about, to put such pressure on the old injury. Just a few years ago, he might have preferred to turn over and die than be so embarrassed. Of course, just a few years ago, he would not have even entertained the notion he ought try what he had recently .. tried.

'Tried' was the only accurate description, for he had not managed what he had hoped. But he never would, unless .. and he did wish for it. And, here it presented, not his dream, but maybe for a time at least, his relief: the Houses of Healing. The very thought of turning back and having to walk all the way back down without an iota of relief was too much to bear. So pride was going to have to take a back seat. He'd opted to forsake the walking aide, proving that pride had carried him this far at least. For the wooden leg was obscured by clothes, save for one distinctly wood-carven right shoe. The Reception beckoned and, as though he had conjured them up out of desire, there were chairs. For a time, they were as far ahead as he might plan. And surely he might think up some more noble explanation, before anyone might notice him smothering a new wave of misery behind closed teeth.


Edit: spelling
Last edited by Ercassie on Tue Aug 11, 2020 12:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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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Tarawen
Recovery Room


She stopped with a sharp intake of breath, her hand still on the door, before she had even fully entered the room. The sight of Maenion resting on a stack of pillows made her feel like she'd had the wind knocked out of her. Tara was taken aback by the deep hollows that illness had carved into his cheeks and the dullness of his usually bright eyes. And if this wasn't shocking enough, a woman was sitting with him and speaking in a tender, familiar way. Their closeness was best illustrated by the way her brother's hand rested gently on her cheek. Tara blinked rapidly again, willing her tears to reverse course. Why was she reacting like this? She couldn't recall the last time she had cried.

This was decidedly not what she had been expecting. What had she been expecting? The possibilities flew vividly through her mind - a dead older brother or a sharp-tongued reprimand for staying away for so long or a passionate argument about old youthful gripes, and many other scenes besides. She had not bargained on Maenion having a companion, even less so a wife. She had not bargained on the illness taking this much strength from him.

She sized up the situation quickly and turned to look at Pele. "You didn't say that he already had a visitor. I should not have interrupted." She was not blaming the healer but spoke quietly, voice full of sadness and regret. Her brother didn't need her. He had everything he could have wanted in life, it seemed, except perhaps the guarantee of many years ahead of him. With an apologetic look at Maenion and the woman by his side, she bowed her head and said, "I'm sorry for walking in like this." She turned to Pele once more and had just opened her mouth to ask after lodgings when the other woman spoke her name and her brother went into a fit of coughing. She did not like the sound of that cough; each rattling spasm from her brother hit her like a little stab of pain to her chest.

The woman beside her brother waved her into the room, but Tarawen suddenly felt every feeling she'd ever pushed down rising within her. The harsh pace of her journey was truly catching up with her, and this scene was doing her no favors. She placed a hand on the doorframe to catch herself as she swayed a bit. Be strong, she scolded herself. He may be dying. Be strong.

She steadied herself and hefted her bag higher onto her shoulder. "Hello," she croaked, her voice catching a bit as she addressed her brother. "I'm here." She couldn't think what else to say.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

Faramir
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Master Healer Pele Alarion
Recovery Room with Tara & Maenion


"I was not aware he had a visitor right now," Pele responded, though even if she knew it would not have changed a thing. Her keen blue eyes took in Tara's reaction, and she made some conclusions on what her relationship with her brother had been like. Apparently she had not even been aware that he had a family.

"He called your name ever so often,"
the healer said quietly, standing behind Tara, rather meaning to provide support than block her exit, and yet she could do both if need called for it. "Set down your bag and do go closer," she encouraged, and would have placed her hand on Tara's shoulder to nudge her forward, yet she realised that it might as well be unwelcome. "I will share with you the options for accommodations after, once you are ready," she added, remembering the practical things as well.

Normally Pele would leave right away, giving the place and time for the family to have some time together, yet somehow she felt compelled to stay for a while, so she lingered at the door. If anything, she had to see that Tarawen and her brother shared more than basic greetings.


~~~~~
Receptionist Miriel with Addhor
Reception

Her shift was about to start, and she had just put on a clean apron and washed her hands. With a bouquet of fresh flowers to set on the desk, Miriel briskly walked into the reception room, and would have immediately set about redecorating the desk space which she felt was a part of her kingdom, almost her throne. But then she noticed Addhor.

"Hello," she greeted him. "Anything I can do for you? I am the receptionist and am responsible for organising stuff around here." With quite a tangible amount of pride about her position, she slid the flowers into the empty vase on her desk, and then turned her full attention to the waiting man. "Any complaints? Or are you here to visit someone?"
~ I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren ~

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Naela with Pele
Study and Garden


Naela perked up a bit as Pele mentioned rumours about her grandmother. Of course she was curious about what had happened to make her grandmother retire. She knew how important the work had been to her. Often her grandmother had missed holidays and birthdays as she had someone that she needed to tend to. And the timing had been odd too. Why would her grandmother have retired just as she was needed the most, right after "the" Battle? She found herself biting her lip as her mind wandered with speculation, jumping up a little quicker than she would have liked when Pele suggested they head out into the garden. There was a garden here too?

Eager to see this garden, Naela quickly followed, her eyes eagerly seeking it out as she answered Pele's question. "Well not really.. I mean my grandmother did practice with me on how to apply bandages.." She chuckled softly as she recalled the image of her whole family covered in some kind of bandage, having done arms, legs, heads and everything in between. "But other than that.. hmm not really, other than chewing mint leaves when queasy or making soothing teas for upset stomaches or headaches. But no, I have never tended an actual wound."

Naela suddenly looked up at Pele, a startled look on her young face and completely missing that they had stepped out into the garden. "Is that going to be a problem??" Her stomach dropped as she held her breath, waiting for the answer that might put an end to her dream of becoming a healer.


***

Maenion and Enara
Recovery room


Seeing the young woman's hesitance, Enara gently placed her husband's hand back on the bed before rising and heading over to Tarawen. So this was the fabled Tarawen, the sister that he could not stop talking about. If one were trained in micro expressions they would certainly have caught the minute and brief curl of the lip as she looked at the woman before them. However it was quickly replaced by a sad smile, though it did not really reach her plain grey eyes.

Enara could not exactly claim to be beautiful in any sense of the word, comely being the one she could barely achieve if she made an effort, though more in a ice cold kind of way. Her rigid back and tightly bound dull brown hairstyle alluded to her need for control. As she reached Tarawen, she leaned in almost too awkwardly like she did not want to touch this dirty woman and gave her a quick hug. Even as her arms dropped back to her sides, one hand seemed to be wiping itself on her black skirt as if she thought that she had gotten dirty from touching Tarawen.

"I am so glad you made it and I am so glad to finally meet you. I am Enara, Maenion's wife." Unaware that she had put more emphasis on the last word than she intended, she turned to her husband and extended her arm. "Please, he will be so glad to see you." She quickly pulled her arm back, her hands gripping each other, fingers weaving and again only the observant would see some of the fingers going white with the hard grip she was holding them in.

Maenion watched with tears in his eyes as his wife took Tarawen in her arms, wishing he could do the same. However he could barely lift his arm, only managing to lift the hand itself in an attempt to beckon his little sister over. "Please.. come sit.." His voice was just a whisper, most of it drowned out by the wet rattling noise his lungs made when he breathed. Focused on his sister, hoping she would come over and sit with him, he did not see the jealous look on his wife's face.

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Addhor Raxëlilta
Reception, with Miriel the Receptionist

The interlude was brief, and the chairs not meant for overlong vacations. Which was not to say that he was likely to be comfortable for long at any rate. That was entirely the problem. Perhaps the answer lay within the means of Miriel, a most efficient looking woman who had begun to bustle about the Reception. Addhor stirred himself to his feet, slowly, despite how little he wished to be held as clutter. There was something of a military expectation, to present as stiff, and always stand when in the presence of a lady. He almost pulled it off, but then he had been a long time from the military. One hand clutched at the chair's arm, just in case. He might always presume to be admiring it's craftsmanship, for it was fine work. Regardless that the woman was busy with dropping flowers into their proper place; the Receptionist claimed to be competent at organising. Well, the man sighed. Best let her be on with it then.

"I was here some years ago, after they had my leg away," he was not the sort to beat around the bush. Albeit that he did not raise his voice overly so. A brief glance down at the mismatch of shoes might serve for alibi. The former Ranger did not intend to shock the good woman by hauling his trouser leg up, for all to see. "When I first tried to manoeuvre with the wooden support, there was .. discomfort. Infection. The healers managed it with .." the word escaped him. Was it 'debriefing' ? That did not sound quite right, and yet it was the first thing come to mind. "I do not recall how, but still they managed it." Best not volunteer the notion of further severance, if it could be at all avoided, he mused, tight lipped. "Still, of late, there has been some atypical ,.. exertion," dark eyes cast what embarrassment he could away by avoiding Miriel's own expression. "The skin around the old wound is .. troubling again," he trialled the explanation, for 'bleeding' was not quite accurate, and he could not make himself speak the word 'oozing.' The colour of it was enough to keep him from examining too closely. "I was hoping that perhaps someone might know how to soothe it ? As I say, I can not recall now how it was managed the last time. It has though been years without a problem and I would have it so again."

As though a bashful schoolboy who had just made apologies, Addhor raised his pale face, all the more pallid when fenced by the frame of his dark hair. He dared for hope. He dearly hoped he did not look as worried as he had been trying to convince himself he wasn't. "Do you know of anyone who would not shy from such a 'complaint' ?" he dared to hope. He dearly wanted to sit back down, but he couldn't allow such defeat. This was Gondor. He could no longer fight for her glory, but he would certainly stand for the sake of dignity. The struggle was not quite as well concealed though as he might have imagined.
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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Eril
Reception and Recovery Room

How dare this young woman treat him with such disrespect! Eril barely held back a snarl as she fixed her narrowed eyes at him. What was she trying to do, see into his soul? He raised his hand, fingers gripped tight around a phantom bottle. He realized half way through his motion that there was nothing there and let his hand drop. Still, he returned the raging stare the young healer was giving him and followed her, each step deliberate as he felt his cheeks redden with anger (though a passerby might mistake it for embarrassment or shame). He passed through the doors, feeling the eyes of a hundred long gone folk staring at him in disapproval. His shoulders bowed and sagged. While the rage was still there, simmering just below the point to outburst, something cold hit him and sapped him of all his strength and will. What was he going to see on the other side of the door?

Forcing himself to appear much more resolute than he felt, Eril pushed passed the young woman, and into the room.

The room smelled of fresh linens and medicinal herbs but he could smell an undercurrent of sickness and decay. He had smelled it as soon as he entered the Houses. He was not sure if it was the Houses themselves or his own memories playing tricks on him. It was not an overwhelming scent, just enough to distract him. The light in the room was clean too, silvery golden light that caught the motes of dust as they passed through. It might have been beautiful if it was anywhere else in the city. Here though, the ethereal held a sinister connotation, a lack of promise for tomorrow, a creeping foreboding.

He shook himself. No. He cleared his thoughts, and squeezed the nonexistent bottle in his hand for strength.

“Tom? What… what happened?”
"We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood. Our eyes have yet to open... Fear the Old Blood..."

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Nessa with Tom, Thea and Eril – Treatment room

Although he was hungry and the porridge was bland Tom followed Nessa’s instructions to the letter and slowly ate. She sat on the chair next to his bed, slowly drank her tea and kept an eye on her patient. The boy looked better, his movements were steady and he didn’t look dazed or confused. Moreover, since the swelling on his head was minimised and after he drank the mint and athelas infusion, Tom didn’t mention that he was in pain or that he was feeling nauseous.

- Tom… – She said his name gently and he put the spoon in the bowl and looked at her. – Is the food alright? It’s not making you feel queasy?
- ‘s bland, ma’am. – He answered sheepishly. – But I’m good now, I’m not going to throw up or anything… At least I don’t think so.
- Good. – Nessa replied pleased with her patient’s progress. – I’m sorry about the food, though. Since your stomach is upset you’ll have to eat some bland food like porridge or biscuits for a day or so to avoid irritation. But perhaps we can add a little honey to your porridge next time. – She smiled conspiratorially at him and he responded in kind.
- I’d like that very much, ma’am. – Tom said with a wide smile and continued eating.

Despite Tom’s restraint, the bowl with the porridge was soon empty; he put the spoon in the bowl and placed both things on the nightstand next to the bed. He took his mug with green tea and slowly started to drink.

- Oh! - He exclaimed and she looked at him eyebrow raised. – This tea tastes strange… Kind of bittersweet…
- It’s an acquired taste. – Nessa teased the boy as he frowned at her. – Go ahead, drink it. If it helps imagine that it’s medicine.
- If you say so, ma’am. – Tom replied and looked at the mug with tea like it offended him and she giggled. It was such a delight to observe the boy and his reactions to the food and drinks that were considered to be healthy.

Her amusement with Tom’s reaction to green tea and the boy’s frowning at the offending drink was interrupted by another knock at the door. Both turned toward the door and she was relieved when she saw Thea peeking in.

- Hey… – The girl said hesitatingly. – We are back, is it ok to come in?

From the corner of her eye, she saw that Tom tensed slightly, and she carefully placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder making him look at her.

- I’m here. – She said quietly holding his gaze. – Whatever happens, I’m here for you.

Tom bit his lip and nodded and Nessa offered him a reassuring smile. She could not know what kind of man was Tom’s father and how would he react to his son being in the Houses of Healing, but she would remain calm and no matter what she would look out for the boy. Placing the, now empty, mug on the nightstand she got up and turned to Thea.

- Of course, you can come in. – She replied and the girl opened the door wider and entered. She looked behind the girl, but still, she didn’t see the man. Perhaps he was frightened, or somehow convinced himself that his son was in a worse condition than he was in. Before she could contemplate about the reasons regarding the man’s hesitation, he entered the room and pushed passed Thea.

Nessa could smell the alcohol on the man (Eril) who shook his himself and squeezed his hand like he was gripping something, but whether he was gripping an imaginary bottle or a cane was up for debate. Nessa tensed and subtly shifted to shield Tom from view.

- Tom? – The man asked uncertainly, looking shocked at finding himself in a treatment room in the Houses of Healing. – What… What happened?
- You are Tom’s father? – She asked the man watching him like a hawk. He slowly nodded looking at her strangely. – My name is Nessa de Argosy, I am the attending healer and treated Tom when Thea brought your son to the Houses of Healing. – She informed the father (Eril) using her calm and professional voice. – Tom has been in an accident and suffered a mild concussion. His injuries were treated and he is stable now. However, he will have to stay in the Houses of Healing for 2 days for observation. – She paused for a moment making sure that the boy’s father listened carefully. When she was certain he understood she continued. – If during that time Tom’s condition remains stable he will be discharged. You will be given written instructions on how to take care of Tom and what to look out for… However, we will discuss those matters later. You can see your son now, but please try not to upset him in any way. – She said giving the man (Eril) a meaningful look that promised that there would be hell to pay if he even thought about disturbing her patient’s recovery.
She/her.
Solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant
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Thea with Nessa and Eril

She was half way through saying thank you while stepping inside and out of the way for Tom's father when he deliberately pushed her aside to get in. "Oh!" she gasped, taking a few quick steps to steady herself as the door continued to move. "How rude.." she muttered under her breath, not trying too hard to be quiet, her face a scowl as she closed the door behind them. She wanted to give him a telling off, however even though he clearly was a drunk and probably not fit to be a father either, she still had enough respect for her elders to hold her tongue. Afterall, should she even be in here now that he had arrived. Suddenly her face paled a little as she realised that he would soon be told that she was there when his son had been hurt. He had already been rude and even pushed her, what could he potentially do to someone who had inadvertantly hurt his son? Would he become violent?

Chewing on her lower lip and fidgeting by the door, she wandered if it wasn't for the best that she left now. Afterall Tom looked to be on the mend, Nessa was taking really good care of him and his dad was now here to make sure he was cared for when he got home. They would likely not even notice if she slipped out now and there was nothing more she could do anyways. Staring at her feet she paused, feeling bad that she was thinking of sneaking out of the door like some kind of thief. That thought made her stomach roil again, wondering what she was even going to do once she left. She knew Ms. Irma would see it as a theft, even if Thea had merely stolen back what was stole from her in the first place. Raising one of her red hands to her brow, she rubbed it absentmindedly, again looking towards the door and then back at Tom.

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Tarawen
Recovery Room with Pele, Maenion, and Enara


"He called your name ever so often," the healer said. Tara reeled with shock. Why? What could he have been missing that he didn't already have? She had thought, at their last parting, that memories of her in this city would dry up and blow away like dead leaves on a bitter fall wind. She had even counted on it.

Wordlessly, she obeyed the command to set down her bag and took a few steps forward into the room. She heard but did not fully register Pele's offer to discuss lodging after the visit but nodded anyway. She became aware of the awkward way in which her arms hung useless at her side, so she drew her hands together behind her back. In her preoccupation with Maenion's condition and the revelation that he had perhaps missed her, she overlooked the flicker of a sneer on his wife's face as she stood and approached.

Tara felt a number of things in the moment just before and while Maenion's wife - for so she introduced herself - hugged her. First, there was relief at the prospect of being welcomed. Second, discomfort as the woman gave her a stilted hug which made Tarawen's usually stiff nature seem easygoing by comparison. Finally, there was shame as Enara wiped her hands after their embrace. Tarawen knew she was filthy from the long road; she did not relish the reminder. It was a mark of the solemnity of this meeting that she put all this aside, for now, without a second thought.

"Hello," she said again, though with a stronger voice this time. "It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Enara." The syllables of her name jarred menacingly in Tarawen's fatigued mind. Still gripped with lingering shock at the whole situation, she couldn't think what else to say. When Maenion's wife encouraged her to step farther into the room, she did so. She sat as her brother urged her in a husky whisper to sit down. The illness was audible in his every breath now. How long had it been since it had settled in his lungs, making a home within him and stealing his strength?

"Maenion," she whispered back, matching his volume as if to avoid disturbing him. "How . . . how are you? What happened? How long have you been like this?" She fought back the tears that burned her eyes and made her voice catch. "I'm sorry I've been away for so long. I've missed so much."
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

Faramir
Faramir
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Pele with Tara, Maenion, Enara
Recovery Room


Pele felt as if she was all but invisible in the room, and at the moment she preferred it so, as she remained standing by the door and observed the interactions within the room. She had to see how the interactions would affect Maenion, since he was under her care, and somehow she now also felt that so was Tarawen, for as long as she was in the Houses of Healing at least. It did not remain hidden to Pele's observant eyes that the woman looked very weary, and that seeing her brother like this had nearly made her reel.

She could not help but sense the tensions in relationships as well: it seemed to her that brother and sister might have something to settle, though it looked like it could be easily mended. However, the healer could not help but notice Enara's attitude towards Tarawen; it was not overly friendly, and was that... a spark of jealousy in her face?

Almost making no sound whatsoever, Pele remained in the room under the pretense of checking on the quantity of necessary supplies in the room, and the amount of available water for drinking.


~~~~~
Pele with Naela
Garden


The healer listened attentively to the description of experience Naela gave, a small smile playing on her lips. Her questions though seemed to create anxiety for the girl, and the smile on Pele's face brightened, when she addressed the expressed worries.

"A problem? Why should it be a problem?" Pele asked in return. "You are young, and everything is still before you to be explored. You have read the books, and your grandmother has taught you some things, so no need to worry."

With a broad wave of hand she tried to turn Naela's attention to the neatly planted and flowering herbs under the windows and what could be seen from the spacious garden. "Perhaps you will enjoy this green kingdom too, not only books and their wealth?" she guessed, turning the conversation away from discussing Naela's experience or lack thereof in obvious words.


~~~~~
Receptionist Miriel with Addhor
Reception


"Ah, a good reason to be checked then," the receptionist nodded seriously, having heard Addhor's reasons for coming into the Houses of Healing. "You probably wouldn't know which of the healers dealt with your leg? Though it probably wouldn't matter - none of them should really shy away from helping you, as that is their calling." It almost sounded as if Miriel was ready to condemn everyone who would refuse to help the man, though she had to admit to herself that luckily she was not a healer, so not obliged to deal with the details.

The man did not seem to be doing too well, though, so she added with a fair amount of determination: "I'll see if I can hunt down any of the healers for you!"

She was about to march along through the door and into the hallways, but then her eye caught the sight of Pele and Naela in the garden, not that far away. Walking over to the door, she opened it and called out: "Master healer, there is a patient here in need of treatment; can he count on you to attend to him?"
~ I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren ~

Master Torturer
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Naela with Pele
Study and Garden


The young woman visibly relaxed when Pele allayed her fears, a bright smile beaming on her face. Relieved that it did not require prior experience, Naela was finaly able to relax and focus her attention on the garden. Following Pele's hand as she gestured, Naela's mouth dropped, her eyes going wide. She had lived all her life in this city and she had never seen a garden as beautiful as this. She had also never been allowed to come with her grandmother to work as when the dream of becoming a healer woke, the War had just raged and grandmother was far too busy to make sure that the young girl did not cause further damage. However she had not been idle either as unfortunately a lot of children had become orphans and needed caring for, spending most of her time at the temporary shelters that were made for them.

"Oh, this is... beautiful!" Stepping further into the garden she still had trouble believing this was located right in the city and so high up too! But whoever tended it sure seemed to know what they were doing as well as obviously tending it with great care. Stepping carefully down a pathway she looked at all the herbs and plants, recognising a few here and there, though most were new to her and some she thought she could guess based on drawings she had seen.

Stooping down she fingered a pretty blossom she thought might be chamomile when she suddenly heard a voice ring out across the garden, startling her. "Oooh!" Eyes wide, she turned her attention towards the door they had just come through and saw a woman calling out to them.


***

Maenion
Recovery Room with Pele, Tarawen and Enara


A lone tear ran down his sallow gaunt face as his little sister took a seat. He was so relieved to see her, his heart singing with the joy he could not voice as his lungs failed him. He weakly reached out his shaking hand, hoping she would take his hand in hers. "Tarawen.. dear sister.." His wet lungs rattled, almost drowning out his words as he whispered them.

"Too long.." he shook his head sadly, as if he had resigned himself to the fact that he might not have long left. He managed to give her hand a small squeeze before continuing. "Sorry.. I wanted to say.." he paused as he coughed, though luckily it did not grip him like it usually did and he settled back to continue, unaware of the hard stare Enara was giving Tarawen, his eyes only on his sister.

"S-sorry. They were rightfully yours." He took another laboured breath, struggling to get the words out without coughing. "Sorry.. that I drove you away.. I missed y.." unable to finish the word, a horrible cough bent him forward.

"Easy my love, easy!" Enara stepped forward only having heard some of what he had said, his rattled breaths drowing most of his words out from where she stood. She quickly made it to his side, rubbing his back to aid him with the cough that sounded like his lungs were being ripped out of his body. Finally the coughing subsided and he sank back in the pillows, eyes closed and paler than before.

"He needs his rest, maybe you should come back later, it seems you got him a bit exited." Enara's voice was cold and hard, clearly blaming the coughing fit on Tarawen, irregardless of how absurd that was. Looking up at Pele she added, "Don't you agree?"

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Tarawen
Recovery Room with Pele, Maenion, and Enara


Tarawen did not notice that the healer had lingered in the room. If she had seen this, she would have been intensely grateful; she would need someone to lean on later - both to find her bearings in the city and help her process everything that was happening.

Instead, her gaze fixed on her brother's haggard features and she watched a tear roll down his cheek. Her own eyes were still burning and her jaw clenched tight to prevent her own tears from spilling. She saw relief and happiness in his eyes despite the condition in which she had found him. She looked down as he lifted one hand toward her in greeting.

Tara hesitated a moment before extending her own hands to receive her brother's; it was so unfamiliar a gesture that she scarcely knew what to do. When Maenion spoke, his voice crackled with the fluid that had settled into his chest and lungs but she heard his familiar tones beneath it. How many times had she heard that voice raised in play or in anger? He spoke softly now, and she realized this was probably the loudest he could speak, even if he had wanted to shout.

"Sorry." Her eyes were burning hot now; she realized she had been holding her breath and that a great pressure was filling her chest. To relieve it, she opened her mouth and took ragged, slow breaths to stay the sobs that threatened to burst from her. He was apologizing for hurts she thought she'd long since buried beneath - at least for her - years of denial or forgetfulness. She heard but could not take it in fully. "I . . ." she began, but could not continue. Tears welled in her eyes and blurred her vision, and she looked down as they began to fall freely. What was happening to her? She had left the city with bow and sword and chin raised high in pride and anticipation, but now to come home and be undone by a simple "sorry" from her brother? What was the world coming to?

This moment, in which she and her brother and years-old battles had seemed to hang suspended out of time or place, crashed down around her when Maenion shook with coughs again and Enara stepped forward to shoo Tarawen away. "Wha -?" she said, as if waking from a dream. "Oh, I am sorry, Maenion," she mumbled, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "I didn't mean to cause you any distress." She spoke as much to her brother as to his wife, and her words were formal and stilted and altogether the opposite of the passionate queries about their childhood and her leaving and his life since she'd left that she really wanted to convey. Something about Enara's officious interjection caused Tara to choke back her tears once more and stand, as if the woman's words had been a forceful push toward the door.

She turned at the doorway to look back at her brother. "I'll come back tomorrow, when you're more rested?" she offered tentatively, wondering vaguely if Maenion would be allowed to reply for himself. "And Pele, I would be very grateful for your help in finding a place nearby to stay."
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

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