First Steps

Estel takes his first steps on the journey to becoming a healer.

"Look, Estel.  Watch.  You see?  The splints help to hold the bone in place, and keep it still until it starts to heal. Then, when the bone has knitted together the splints can be removed."

Estel watched in fascination, distracted from the pain, as Elrohir deftly bound his broken arm before gently placing it in a sling.

"How - when - did you learn to do that?" he asked his brother.

"Elladan and I began to learn when we were about your age."

Estel looked up, his tears forgotten.  "Show me too.  I want to be a healer like you!"

All These and More

Estel learns more of the skills and crafts needed to become a healer.

“Being a healer takes many skills,” Elrohir explained.  “It is not just about binding a broken arm.”

“I know that.  But what sort of skills?  Herblore?” Estel guessed.

“Yes, you will learn herblore.  There are other crafts involved, and you will learn a little of all of them – from the gardeners who tend the plants, the smiths who forge our knives and needles, weavers who make bandages, the glassblowers who make the vials and bottles we use.”

“I need to know all that?”

Elrohir nodded.  “All these and more.    They are the threads that weave together to make a healer.”

On the Naming of Things

 Estel completes the first stage of his training as a healer.

Abandoning his own work, Elrohir listened unashamedly as Estel was drilled by their father on the naming and uses of medicinal herbs. 

“And this is Athelas,” Estel explained.  “Also asëa aranion, or kingsfoil.  Steeped in water it is used to bathe wounds."

Elrond nodded.  “Well done, Estel.  You have completed the first level of your apprenticeship.  Congratulations!”  He gave Estel a small embroidered leaf, symbol of his new rank.

Estel turned, grinning triumphantly, but then his face fell.  He gestured at the sheaf of leaves embroidered on Elrohir’s cloak.  “Oh, but I still have such a long way to go!”

Testing Times

 Estel struggles to learn everything he must know.

Although it was late, a light still showed under Estel’s door.  Elrohir knocked softly, then opened it.  “Estel?  Are you still awake?  Do not forget your test tomorrow.”

Estel’s desk was piled high with books and scrolls.  He looked up, stretched, and ran his hands through his hair, leaving a smudge of ink on his face.  “I know.  But Elrohir, if I pass, I go on to the final level of my apprenticeship!  And there is so much to remember …” 

He gestured at the books and his carefully written notes.  “There are times when it makes my head spin.”

The Moment of Truth

 Estel faces his most daunting challenge yet.

“Be careful, Estel.  Remember; use small, even stitches.  That way you will not leave a scar.”

Estel sighed in exasperation.  “I know, Elrohir!  I know what I’m doing.”

Elrohir held his breath as he watched Estel work, first cleaning the deep, jagged gash then carefully placing a line of neat stitches along the length of the wound.  At last Estel finished and stepped back, glancing at Elrohir for his approval.  “Well?”

Elrohir inspected the long cut on his arm and nodded, clenching his fist carefully.  The stitches pulled but still held, and he smiled.  “Yes.  Well done, Estel.  Thank you!” 

The Hardest Lesson

Estel learnes the hardest lesson of all for a healer.

Estel turned away blindly, not even seeing Elrohir until a warm, comforting hand clasped his shoulder.  “He died,” he said, his voice shaking.  “I should have tried harder!  If you or father had been there …”

“No, Estel.  His injuries were too severe.  There was nothing you or anyone could have done.  You cannot blame yourself.”

“But …”

Elrohir absently brushed his fingers against a black-dyed leaf on his cloak, remembering.  “This is the hardest lesson of all; one you will never forget.”  He hugged Estel.  “I wish I could say it becomes easier,” he murmured, “But it never does.”