Chapter 33 - Healing

Herenion watched as Legolas walked away from Rhinure. He saw the look on Rhinure’s face even if his Prince did not. He contemplated talking to Legolas but now was not the time. Legolas needed time alone to sort through what he had seen and what he feeling. A lecture, even a well meaning one, would not be welcome.

It was not every day a Firstborn died for you. It was not every day that you had to turn around and see an immortal being lose their life so that you could have yours. Legolas has much to deal with – they all did.

Especially this tiny slip of an elleth who had granted Morion peace. Herenion had watched with horror as Rhinure had driven the blade into Morion’s heart. He did not know why Rhinure had done this or where she found the strength to do it, but he knew it was what Morion had wanted. He had watched Ehtewen when Rhinure had driven the blade home, and there was pride on her face. Her Mistress has honoured her vows to Morion and made the Avari proud.

And for that, Herenion’s heart bled for her.

“My lady, are you all right?” Herenion asked gently.

Rhinure looked up at the bodyguard with cold eyes, so cold that Herenion stepped back. These were not the eyes of a mourning elleth, they were the eyes of a ruler who carried a great weight. “I am fine, First Guard. You need not worry.”

Herenion could understand why Legolas had turned away from Rhinure. Such barrenness in a living creature’s eyes was unbearable. But unlike Legolas, he had seen  much death and was more unaffected by it. He knew that as long as life persisted, there was hope – even for one as twisted as Rhinure. And instinctively he knew that Rhinure hid something; just what it was he was not sure. Pain? Remorse? Possibly, but it could as easily be indifference. He hoped it was the former but the tragedy was that he could not be sure. She hid it all so well.

But there was something there, hidden under that winter, hidden under the frost. Herenion was sure of it.

“First Guard, you need not watch over me. I will be fine.”

‘I will be fine’? Not ‘I am fine’? Herenion frowned and concentrated on his Princess. Her voice was too soft – weak? He bent down in front of her, “My Lady, you are not well.”

Rhinure turned her head away, where was Ehtewen? “As I have already said I am fine, First Guard.” She drew her cloak closer to herself, feeling the blood run down her wrist.

Herenion noted the way she was clutching the cloak, her knuckles had turned white around the black cloth. “My Lady, you are most certainly not fine. What are you hiding? Let me see.” He reached his hand towards her cloak, and Rhinure flinched back.

“No.” Her voice was sharp

Now, Herenion was sure something was wrong; he had never seen Rhinure flinch from anything. He gripped the cloak and drew it aside; Rhinure did not have the strength to stop him.

Herenion hissed when he saw the blood, it had pooled between her shoulder and collarbone only to spill over her chest and arm. Even now, blood dripped down her pale skin, over her wrist and fingers to fall on the ground. With the cloak not hiding it anymore, Herenion could see that the wound was serous. Not life threatening but serious enough to merit immediate attention. Why had she not had it seen to?

“My Lady … what … how did this happen?”

Rhinure swayed slightly, and Herenion’s hands gripped her shoulders steadying her. Her blood stained his palm. “I would have thought it obvious, First Guard. I got hit by an arrow.”

Herenion smiled; her tongue was still in fine form even if the rest of her was not. “My Lady, why have you not had this treated?”

“I was waiting for Ehtewen; she will treat it.”

“My Lady, we have healers who can treat this,” Herenion said, slightly exasperated.

Rhinure looked at him, confused, “But Ehtewen said that I should wait here.”

Herenion swore under his breath, Rhinure was obviously disoriented; the blood loss must have been more severe than he thought. He removed the cloak, horrified to note that it was soaked with her blood. How had she managed to stay on her feet? How was she managing to stay conscious?

Herenion looked at Rhinure closely. She looked at him with unfocused eyes. His eyes widened; she was using this pain to block out everything that had happened. He bent down to pick her up.

“First Guard, put me down this minute,” Rhinure demanded without any real venom. She was so tired. Besides, Morion used to hold her like this when she was young – so long ago. Long ago, when she was small – she was held.

“I am sorry, my Lady, I am going to get you to a Healer.”

“But … Ehtewen …”

“Lady Ehtewen can come find you. I am sure she is good at that.”

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Faelon was almost knocked off his feet as Herenion barrelled past him, “Herenion, would you kindly watch where you put those big feet. I could have been seriously injured.” Herenion growled at him and kept walking. It was then that Faelon noticed that he was carrying Princess Rhinure in his arms.

“Is she okay, Herenion?” Faelon whispered, taking in Rhinure’s pale face and bloodied shoulder.

“I am still here, Lieutenant. You can ask me.” Faelon almost jumped out of his skin when Rhinure turned her eyes on him. Herenion chuckled softly, Rhinure would be fine. Anyone who could still scare Faelon while injured had too much spirit to go easily. Herenion could count the elves that had that much presence on one hand – Thranduil, Arandur, Rhinure and of course Legolas.

Faelon looked at the blood flowing down her shoulder, “What happened to you … my Lady?”

“Orc arrow,” Rhinure managed despite the fact that she was losing consciousness.

“Was it poisoned, should I go tell Prince Legolas?”

Rhinure shook her head, fighting to keep awake, she would not be weak, she would not give in. *~ I will not accept any pity, from anyone. No one … especially not him. ~*

Rhinure did not realise it but she had spoken aloud, softly but still clear enough for Herenion to hear. He shook his head at her stubbornness; it reminded him of Legolas, except she took it to new heights. He watched helplessly as Rhinure fainted in his arms.

“Faelon, got alert the Healer. I will tell Legolas myself.”

Faelon looked at the bodyguard and his Princess, and then ran off with Herenion following behind.

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The Healer waved at Herenion, ordering the Bodyguard to lay the Princess on an already prepared pallet. “She is the second Avari I have had to treat today.” He shook his head in sorrow, remembering his other patient.

“What do you mean?”

“I just treated another Avari for orc poison. I had to sedate her in order to get at her. She was most uncooperative, would not let me near her. I think she was anxious to get back, but I insisted that she be treated immediately. Lay the Princess here, please.”

Herenion gently laid her on the pallet and stepped back, letting the Healer look at her.

“Ai, why did she not seek aid sooner? She could have bled to death.”

“I do not think she knew what she was doing, she was disoriented when I found her.”

“No wonder, I think most of her blood is on her tunic. Thankfully, the wound is not poisoned.”

*~ Thank the Valar for that. How am I going to tell Legolas? ~* Herenion wondered silently. He did not understand why Rhinure had not asked for attention, when Ehtewen had not returned immediately. It frightened him to realise that her blood loss was so severe that she did not know what she was doing.

“Where is Lady Ehtewen?” Herenion snarled at no one in particular.

“Sleeping off the poison behind you. I had to give her very strong sedative before I could remove the blade from her.”

 Herenion whirled around, looking at the prone form of Ehtewen. His face paled, “How long has she been here?”

“I found her after the battle, it was obvious she was poisoned so I gave her some calming herbs but I had to promise I would send someone to fetch her Mistress here. You solved that problem. Thankfully, you found her this quickly.” The Healer tried smiling, but he was obviously worried about his Princess. His hands deftly mopped up the blood and though he tried making conversation with Herenion, his attention was clearly with his patient.

Herenion stopped listening to the Healer, staring at the First Guard in horror. Rhinure could have died. By the time someone checked on her she would have bled to death. While Herenion knew this was unlikely, he could not help fear it. He knew intellectually that the Avari were nearby and would have helped her, it did not erase the memory of Rhinure’s blood staining his palms.

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Legolas flexed his shoulders feeling the pain shoot through his arm. He welcomed it, he welcomed any distraction at this point. He could not think about his little conversation with Rhinure. Her callousness and complete disregard of all common standards of decency still hurt him. All fallen soldiers were given a burial if possible, it was a matter of honour. How could she not want to retrieve Morion’s body? Did he mean so little to her? Did the other Avari who had fallen matter so little? For someone who took pride in the fact she was Avari, she did not act that way.

She made him so furious; she hurt him so much, with both her words and her actions. He had wanted to hurt her, make her feel something – anything. Prove to her, and to himself, that she could feel. That she could hurt, like she hurt him. But he failed even in that; she was unfeeling, barren – empty.

He could not, he would not think of this. He had duties to perform. Right now he needed to concentrate on getting the bodies. If Rhinure did not give her Avari a burial, he would. He owed them that much as least – especially Morion.

“My Lord?” Legolas looked up to see the Avari who had gone with his scouts, Agorion.

“What is it?”

“My Lord, I hear you will be returning to look for the body of the fallen Silvan scout.”

“Yes, and the Avari dead as well,” Legolas emphasised sharply.

Agorion gave Legolas an uncomprehending look, “You need not bother with the Avari bodies, my Lord.”

“I will give them a proper memorial service,” Legolas bit out, keeping a reign on his temper with great difficulty.

“But why do you need their bodies then?”

Legolas looked at Agorion, the Avari seemed genuinely confused, “How else do you honour your dead?”

“With their Blades, as Mistress Rhinure did with Morion.”

Legolas narrowed his eyes, “Explain.”

“When the feä has left the body, the body is useless, my Lord,” explained Agorion as if he was talking to a slightly retarded child. “The body is an empty husk, it does not matter what happens to it. But metal remembers, therefore we need the Blades.”

“I presume that no commons blade will do?”

“No, my Lord. Each Avari, upon reaching his or her majority, chooses a metal weapon which will remember – ah, symbolically carry his spirit even after death. This is called his Blade. When he dies, the Blade is bathed in his blood so it remembers his spirit. The weapon’s sheath is burnt in tribute of what is lost. The Blade then passes on to someone else in honour of what still survives.”

*~ I have what is important. I do not need anything else to remind me. ~*

Only now was Legolas beginning to understand what Rhinure met. He thought he was going to be ill.

“Then today, when Lady Rhinure drove the blade in Morion …”

“She was bathing it in his heart’s blood, she was doing what he wanted. Now his Blade will pass on to sing in someone else’s hand and Morion will be remembered.”

“Why did she do it, could someone else not have …”

“My Lord!” Agorion sounded almost shocked, “To have your Sacrifice perform the last rite is the highest honour for an Avari. Besides, Morion wanted her to do it. It is only fitting.”

Legolas felt the ground spinning, he had to sit down. “Why was it fitting?”

“Since she was his niece, my Lord. Rather death by your family’s hand than by a stranger.”

“His niece?”

 *~ Oh Ilúvatar, what have I done? ~*

 “Yes, my Lord. On her father’s side.”

Legolas felt his knees gave way – but somehow through a sheer act of will he remained on his feet, his words coming back to him with sickening clarity.

“My Lord, are you well?”

Legolas shook his head, “I am fine Agorion. What did you want?”

“My Lord, I was wondering if I could accompany you. The last Avari Blade was not recovered. Mistress Rhinure wanted me to retrieve it.”

“I thought Lady Rhinure did not want us returning.”

“She does not, but if you are going then I might as well go with you.”

Legolas smiled bitterly, “That does not indicate that you place much importance on these Blades.”

Agorion’s voice became cold and he looked at the Prince, “My Lord, Mistress Rhinure does not want to risk your lives and the lives of your company, she would rather give up the Blade. The living are always more important than the dead.” With that the Avari spun around and walked away from the Prince, anger evident in the stiff lines of his shoulder.

“Nice one, Elfling. You do have a talent of angering people.”

Legolas sighed, not in the mood for another harangue. “How much time will you need to scold me, Herenion? Maybe after that I can return to my duties.”

“None, heru en amin,” Herenion bowed to Legolas and turned to gather his weapons, all the while trying to figure out how he was going to tell Legolas about Rhinure.

Legolas sighed, he had not meant to snap at Herenion - it was exhaustion speaking. He looked down at his friend, intending to apologise when he noticed that Herenion’s hands were covered in blood.

“Herenion, what happened to you?”

Herenion looked up, confused at the questions. He noticed Legolas’ worried gaze on his hands and realised what Legolas was thinking, “Do not worry child, this is not my blood.”

“But …” Legolas took one of Herenion’s palms in his own and wiped the blood off, silently offering his apology.

“Legolas, little one, Rhinure … Rhinure has been injured.”

“What?” Legolas’ head jerked up, face paler than before.”

“She was hit by an orc arrow, it just missed an artery on her shoulder.”

“How is she?”

Herenion shook his head, “She has lost a lot of blood. She passed out by the time I got her to the Healer’s”

“Passed out? … But she seemed fine when I saw her a while ago.”

“She had not lost as much blood at that point.”

“Why did she not say anything?”

Herenion shrugged, not really understanding it himself.

*~ Are you sure? Could it have anything to do with the fact that she would have seen our help as pity? Maybe it had something to do with the way Legolas spoke to her, hurt her.~*

“I do not know, my Lord.”

“She was waiting for Lady Ehtewen. She would have bound the wound. Rhinure would have been fine.”

“Lady Ehtewen is also at the Healer’s, fighting orc poison. She is unlikely to provide any help to Lady Rhinure for some time, let alone today.”

Legolas stepped back, having trouble breathing. No matter how angry he was he did not want Rhinure hurt, dead. “But she will be all right now, will she not? Herenion? She will recover.”

Herenion nodded seeing Legolas’ worry.

“Have you told her bodyguards? Informed them about her injury? They would like to be there with her.”

Herenion shook his head, “I am just coming from the Healer. I wanted to tell you immediately. I have not had time to find anyone else.”

Legolas nodded, clasping his friend’s shoulder in gratitude.

“Where are you going, Legolas?”

“To find Istion.”

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Istion stayed at the edge of the camp, fighting to keep the screams in. His body did not shake, his eyes did not cry because he would not disgrace his mentor and Sacrifice in such a fashion. He would wait and when he was alone, he would grieve. He would grieve for the Elf who had always believed in this orphan, he would grieve for the family the elf had left behind, for the child he would never see grow up, for the mate who would sleep alone in the night.

But most he would grieve for the elleth who had lost the last of her family. He would grieve for her because she could not. He remembered the look in Rhinure’s eyes, the deadness in her eyes which told him that the Sacrifice had won again. The elleth that lived inside had lost once again.

He would grieve for the elleth who had hung onto to Morion’s hand when she hurt. He would grieve for the elleth who had to drive the blade into her beloved uncle’s heart because he asked it of her. He would grieve for her because she could not.

She was Sacrifice – and for that he would lament.

But not now, never in public. Never where others might see you, where others would scorn you.

*~ But it is so hard. I hurt and I want it to stop. ~*

*~ I will miss you Morion, and I will hurt because I was never allowed to say that. ~*

Istion gripped his Blade, his knuckles turning white over it. He sensed someone come behind him. Who would interrupt him now? It was not Avari, they all knew that he needed time to mourn, that he needed privacy. So did they all, today the Avari mourned.

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Legolas slowed as he reached Istion. Something about the Avari’s stance gave him pause, it suggested grief, enormous grief tightly controlled. Legolas felt his heart squeeze even further, feeling as if he was intruding on a private moment.

“You should not be here, leave.” Istion’s cold tone caused Legolas’ anger to flare up.

“Neither should you, Avari. You should be by your Mistress’ side. She almost died today.”

Istion whirled around, and for a moment Legolas saw a wounded animal in the Avari’s eyes. An animal who had been beaten again and again but still did not give in. But it was only a momentary impression. The cold Avari glaze soon covered Istion’s eyes.

“Speak.”

Legolas ignored the impudence of the command and said, “Rhinure was injured the battle. She could have bled to death if Herenion had not gotten her to the Healer.” Once again he repeated, more gently, “You should be with her.”

Istion straightened even further, withdrawing inside himself, becoming colder to all outward appearances.

*~ Tell me, my Mistress lives. TELL ME. ~*

“The Avari owe Herenion a vote of thanks, do they not?” His voice was expressionless.

Legolas shook his head sorrowfully; did these Avari feel nothing? “Do you care for nothing? She could have died today. Herenion can wait.”

Istion looked at Legolas with cold scorn, “Be careful who you accuse, Prince. You know not what you speak of. I have served Mistress Rhinure for ages. I have known her for longer than you, and will always know her better than you. What I feel for her is my business. Do not seek to teach me. Now, get out of my way.”

Istion’s eyes burned and Legolas got his wish. He got to see what an Avari who felt, looked like. It was not a pleasant sight – the pain and the grief that lived in Istion slammed into him. Legolas watched as Istion gathered his rage and his anguish and pushed it back down. He wanted to say something to the agitated guard, offer some comfort but decided to remain silent. Istion would not welcome anything Legolas would have to stay at this point.

Legolas saw Istion reconstruct the mask that all Avari wore; he saw the effort it took. And all he could think of was, *~ Rhinure forgive me. ~*

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