Chapter 9: Caves

The morning came, the rays of the sun faint in the shadow that crept forwards to meet the light. In the nestraden sammath , a little elfling was busily attending to the sleeping stranger. Lotórie was vested in the woman’s healing, and decided that although her contributions were small, they were important none the less. She had cleaned and combed through the unruly and dirty hair, arranging it in neat braids. She aided the healers with the stranger’s first cleansing. Lotórie had even borrowed some of her mother’s fragrant creams to rub onto the woman’s hardened skin.

As Lotórie vigorously rubbed the cream into the skin, Aní had appeared. He watched his cousin take to her task with much seriousness. He called to her, “May I help you in any way pen tithen ?”

Lotórie smiled at her older cousin and motioned him over to her station next to the stranger. Aní pulled up a small stool, and sat. Lotórie dabbed a good amount of cream in his palm and pointed to the woman’s covered legs.

“I am sure her legs desperately need some soothing. Whey don’t you do that part while I finish with her upper body,” The little elf suggested innocently.

Aní opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it. Lotórie now wore a huge smile as she felt she was truly aiding the woman. She glanced at Aní who studied the sheets that covered the woman’s legs, “Aní you really don’t need to concentrate that hard! Just do what I am doing!” Lotórie then rubbed the cream more vigorously in exaggerated strokes upon the woman’s arms.

Aní laughed, “Your guidance loth nín is most helpful.” Aní delicately lifted the sheets away from the woman’s legs, carefully letting the sheets settle at her thighs. He glanced around inquisitively and noticed that the healers were not looking his way. He turned back to his task and grasped an all too thin leg in his hand and began to rub the velvety cream onto the lower part of the leg. What Aní thought could be a potentially embarrassing situation turned into a deed of pity. The young woman was clearly emaciated, and as Aní ran his hands over her legs, he felt the sharp bone meet too closely against the skin. Scars were visible upon the legs. Clearly this stranger had seen and met much during her life.

Aní studied her face, his curiosity as to the stranger’s age piqued by the tell tale marks on her legs. The face appeared young, but yet there were lines weathered on the face which hinted otherwise. The face was sunken and the bones protruded unhealthily. Aní noted that the starvation apparent on her features were all too obvious. The stranger’s cheekbones were pronounced and set high near the eyes, unlike many mortals he had seen of Esgaroth. Her lips were dried and cracked, swollen from exposure to harsh elements. The stranger’s arms were merely bones covered in skin. If Lotórie noticed the stranger’s emaciated state, Aní could not tell, for the elfling was lovingly massaging the stranger’s hands, carefully attending to the hand on the side of the injured shoulder.

What Aní could not know was that while Lotórie massaged the silken lotion into the stranger’s skin, she secretly hoped that she was somehow passing life to the body that lay like a cadaver before her. Lotórie had never seen a dead body, but she imagined that this was a much to near rendering of death.

Aní felt a hand on his should and he looked up from his task to find Legolas behind him, flanked by Mithrandir. The wizard chuckled, “I fear we are beginning to crowd the healing quarters. This stranger is certainly a popular maiden with the royal family.”

A healer near by the group softly countered, “Tis not an intrusion but a welcome presence.” She glanced tenderly at the young stranger and whispered, “for the life that dwells within those frail bones is most in need of love and hope.”

Legolas spoke out loud what Lotórie and Aní hadn’t, “It pains me to see that her skin covers only bone. How long did she endure in such a state?”

Mithrandir, who had moved to stand over the end of the bed replied solemnly, “For much too long, I am afraid. I would dare say that this stranger has never known what a stomach full of good things feels like.” The wizard then directed his attention to the healer, “Any indications that she will awaken?”

The healer grasped her skirt tightly beneath her, looking openly into the Istari’s eyes, “We have done all we can and the wound is healing well, but the other ravages inflicted upon this body we know not. If she doesn’t awaken soon there may be little hope she will survive. She needs food.”

This last statement was obvious to all. Legolas went over to stand behind Lotórie. The elfling had stopped tending to her task and sat motionless on her stool. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

Legolas crouched besides his niece, wiping the tears from her reddened cheeks. “I know these words we share are sorrowful. We elves do not see such hardships. Ours are of another kind.” Legolas whispered this last phrase, looking blankly at the wall before him.

Lotórie let out a quiet shudder, bringing Legolas’ attention back to the present moment. “It is better you know these things honestly loth nín from your family for we can embrace and share the sorrow together.”

Lotórie nodded her little head, and glanced at her uncle through tearful eyes. She wiped the tears away and furrowed her eyebrows in understanding. Turning back to the stranger she continued her task of massaging the stranger’s arms.

Aní had stopped his ministrations and listened quietly to all that had passed. Legolas then turned his attention to Aní, “You have not eaten breakfast Aní, let me help you so you can join your parents in the dining hall.”

Aní protested, “I can stay. Maybe we should send Lotórie to eat.”

Lotórie quietly answered, “I have already eaten Aní, early this morn, before I came here.”

“Well then that is settled, Aní, you should go eat, and can return when you are done. Or do you think me so incompetent that I could not massage cream correctly onto her legs,” Legolas added, trying to cheer up the somber atmosphere.

Aní conceded, “No, Legolas, I have full faith in your abilities. I will leave you to your task. I am rather hungry.” Aní rubbed his stomach and groaned slightly, drawing forth chuckles from the elfling that sat next to him.

Mithrandir who had quietly listened to their conversation, jovially added, “Well then dear Aníralendon, I will join you too, my hunger is so voracious I might have to devour little elflings!” He fixed his eyes upon Lotórie and raised his eyebrows threateningly, eliciting more giggles from the young elf.

Aní and Mithrandir excused themselves from the room and headed to the dining hall, while Legolas continued with the duties previously assigned to Aní by Lotórie. Lotórie instructed her uncle, “Like this uncle, make sure you do it like this.”

Legolas nodded and imitated his niece’s massaging motions on the stranger’s legs. The immediacy of the bone in the legs caused him to pause and look upon the stranger’s features. *Such a sad story your life has been. I wonder if we will ever hear you tell it.*

“Uncle Legolas, I dreamt that she was alive and laughing. We were playing in a garden, naming flowers,” Lotórie quietly shared. “What do you think it means?”

“I am not sure, only Irmo, master of all dreams, can truly know what truths our dreams claim,” Legolas responded, in turn seeking an answer for his own dreams. (1)

***

In the dining hall, Thranduil inquired as to the well being of the stranger. Mithrandir reported all that he knew, and proceeded to share the little knowledge he had gained about the stranger.

Thranduil inquired, “Have we found out yet where this stranger is from? Her manner of dress is undocumented and the horse found with her is like no breed I am knowledgeable of.”

Mithrandir acknowledged, “I do not think that we will find out these details until the stranger has awoken and we are able to communicate with her, although this is going to be a task.”

“Yes, you did mention that she speaks an unknown tongue. Mithrandir, when are you taking your leave of Mirkwood?”

“With your permission, King Thranduil, I would like to remain as long as I need to further my understanding of this stranger.”

“Of course, old friend, stay as long as you wish. You know you are always welcome here, and to tarry as long as your will will have it. You will greatly aid in unraveling the mystery this stranger has brought.”

Laurenor gasped, “Ai, how could I have forgotten?”

The tables’ occupants turned to look at Laurenor who wore a look of consternation on his face. “I- I forgot to share a most important detail with you Ada!”

Thranduil sighed knowingly, “Pray share what ever information it is.”

Laurenor spat out rapidly, “Well, turns out Faelon had sent out patrols to the area where the young woman was found, and it was in fact near one of the smaller cave openings on the western side of the hill. They found some horse tracks leading out of the cave to the very spot where the stranger was found!”

Thranduil annoyingly eyed his oldest son, “Thank Eru that you have decided to remember this most important information, but Aní had already informed me of this cave, for he is very familiar with the area.”

Laurenor looked sheepishly at his father and shrugged his shoulders. “Well I am glad I remembered anyway.”

“As am I ion nín .”

“Strange,” Rainiel added, “that cave leads no where. Is it not a favorite location for many a young elf to go *frolic* in?” Rainiel was now looking pointedly at her son, who was busy eyeing the food on his plate. She added dryly, “I imagine that is why my son is so *familiar* with this cave.”

Erutunín could barely contain his mirth. “Dear wife,” he whispered faintly in her ear, “you seem to enjoy the embarrassment you cause our son a little too much. Shall I retell the many moments we spent in this miraculous cave on my visits from Imladris? Our son would be most fascinated.”

His words had been meant for Rainiel only, but Mithrandir was within earshot of Erutunín’s jaunts and choked on his food from the laughter he tried to suppress.

Rainiel, hissed through her clenched teeth, and lanced a menacing look towards her husband. Aní was oblivious to the games being played between his parents as he dared not tear his gaze away from his food, believing the hiss was launched at him.

Mithrandir caught the King’s despondent look , “My King, have I ever thanked you and your family for so abundantly entertaining me whilst I am visiting your realm?”

Thranduil bowed his head, “I would have it no other way my dearest friend, no other way.”

***

(1) Irmo is one of the seven Lords of the Valar, and is the master of visions and dreams. He dwells in Lórien and is spouse to Estë, one of the seven Valier. From the Silmarillion.