Chapter 6 ~ Return Home
Morwen crept into Eradan’s room to change his bandaging again. His wounds had been healing nicely and almost all of the inflammation was gone from his shoulder. She hoped not to wake him, for what he needed most was sleep.
Silently she crossed the room, tiptoeing across the hard stone floor, and took her place in her customary chair. She gently pulled back the covers, glancing up at Eradan as she did so. Very awake and rather amused grey eyes met hers and she jumped slightly, "Oh," she said hurriedly, "I did not know you were awake."
"So I noticed," he said wryly. "You do not need to worry about me, I would not mind being awoken. It is not usually my way to remain asleep for so long, and it seems strange to me. I feel as though I have no strength left after lying abed for so long, and I want only to be rid of this entire, painful mess."
"I understand how you must feel," she said, gently removing the bandage on his leg, "for Belecthor is exactly the same way. And I suppose I am too, when it comes right down to it, but if you do not remain in bed, you may grow worse, and then you would be confined to bed for even longer. So, please, try to be patient."
"I will," he assured her with a smile. "I have gone through this before, although it was never as serious as all this," he added, motioning towards his shoulder and his leg. "I have usually been confined to my back for only a day. How long have I been here now?"
"Only three days. But if you remain patient, I say that, by the look of your injuries, you will be able to ride home with us in another day. Even your shoulder has been healing."
"That is good news," he breathed with a sigh. "How is my horse? Has he been getting proper care?"
She looked at him in mock indignation, pausing in her work. "Of course. What do you expect of those descended from the Lady Éowyn, Shieldmaiden of Rohan? That we would simply turn him out in his weakened state?" He grinned at her and she continued with a smile. "Yes, he is doing well. He had a few minor wounds, but they have long since healed and he has as much perk as any horse I ever saw."
She again bent to her task. Upon uncovering the gash, she was overjoyed to find that it had almost fully healed. "Why, Eradan," she cried happily, "look."
He lifted himself up and glanced down at it. "Wonderful," he said happily. "You are a skillful healer, Lady Morwen."
"No, you are a strong man, and strong men do not long stay abed." She smiled at him. "Now lie back down. I am afraid you are trying to do too much. But then, that is my fault for telling you to look in the first place. Now, come, lie back down." She pushed him gently, careful of his wounded shoulder.
"How is he, Morwen?" Annariel asked from the door.
"He is doing much better, Mother," she answered. "His thigh has nearly healed completely," she added, indicating the wound uncovered before her.
"Oh, I am glad," Annariel said, crossing the room to the bed and looking for herself. "Yes, I would say we will be riding out of here by tomorrow, or the day after at the latest." This statement was met with relief and joy and Annariel turned to go. "Continue, Morwen, do not let me interrupt your work. I will prepare something for him to eat; for his breakfast disappeared so swiftly, that I am inclined to believe that his appetite is returning."
He smiled up at her. "My mother always said that no matter how serious a malady beset me, my stomach would recover before aught else."
Lady Annariel laughed pleasantly, closing the door behind her as she went. Morwen finished with his leg and moved to the other side of the bed to tend to his shoulder. "This one does not look so hopeful," she stated sorrowfully as she uncovered it, gently washing away the dried blood. "It would seem that it has again become infected, but not as badly as the last time. I am afraid I shall have to treat it again."
"Very well," Eradan replied, already gritting his teeth against the expected pain. He hissed sharply through his teeth as the searing pain shot through him, burning his flesh and making the hair on the back of his neck rise up in protest. He had never thought anything could sting so much.
Morwen’s brow furrowed sympathetically. "I am sorry, Eradan," she said gently, soaking a fresh rag in the alcohol. "But it must be done." He did not even attempt to answer her, for his teeth were clenched and his hands were rolled into fists. As she again dabbed his shoulder, his eyes began to sting and water, his fists tightening and his teeth grinding slightly. She finished at last, and as the last lingering sting drained away, his jaw relaxed and his hands uncurled, revealing marks where his fingernails had dug into his palm. "I hope that is the last time we have to do that," Morwen said, placing her bloody rags in a basin of clean water.
"No more than I," Eradan replied in a husky voice, running a weak hand through his black hair.
She smiled and bound his wound, placing some herbs in the bandaging. The cut on his head had already healed and needed no more attention and so she gathered up her things and headed for the door. "Now, get some rest," she ordered him before shutting the door behind her.
"I shall try," he muttered to the closed door. "I shall try."
~*~*~*~
The next morning, Narion saddled up the horses and packed their things on the packhorse. He hoped that they had not missed anything of great importance at home. Perhaps, even now, Belecthor was on his way to war in Gondor while his father remained on holiday. The idea was irksome, but he strove not to think about it.
He looked up as his wife and daughter appeared at the door of the house, Eradan behind them. He was walking under his own power, but anyone could see that it pained him and only his sheer determination was keeping him on his feet. "Good morning, Eradan," Narion called pleasantly.
"Good morning, my Lord," he answered, taking the reins of his own horse. "Is it a long journey to the palace?"
"We will have to camp on the way, but it should take no more than a day and a half, if we ride slowly.
"Very well. Let us begin."
They mounted and moved out, the rising sun piercing through the trees around them and bathing them in much welcome warmth.
~*~*~*~
In the late afternoon of the following day they pulled up before the palace. Eradan dismounted with an effort, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he leaned heavily against his mount, a hand to his wounded shoulder.
Morwen had continued her gentle care of his injuries while on the road and his leg was completely healed, albeit a trifle sore, but his shoulder remained the same. The inflammation had not gone down, nor had it gotten worse. It simply remained, a constant worry to those caring for him.
He felt a gentle hand on the back of his shoulder and he turned. Morwen stood there, a worried smile gracing her features. "Are you alright?" she inquired.
"Yes, my Lady," he half-lied, forcing a smile. "I am fine. Do not let me hold you any longer. I shall see to the horses."
"Oh no you will not," she insisted forcefully. "You are coming inside. The stable boys will see to the horses. You still need your rest, or you shall never recover. Besides, Grandfather will no doubt wish to see you."
He allowed Morwen and Narion to lead him into the palace, Lady Annariel following behind. They were greeted at the door by a cheerful Belecthor and a welcoming Faramir. "Bring him down here," Faramir instructed them, showing them down a few hallways and to an empty bedchamber. "He may remain here until he is fully healed. Morwen, as you have been doing so up to now, I believe it would be best for the patient if you would continue caring for his wounds."
"Yes, Grandfather," she replied with a slight curtsey before being enveloped in a warm embrace from behind. "Uncle Celvandil!" she exclaimed happily, turning and embracing her uncle in return. "I am so glad to be home at last," she said, releasing her uncle and taking off her cloak. "But I am tired, so I believe I shall retire to my chambers for a while. Belecthor, could you bring up my satchel, please? I believe you know which one it is."
"Of course, Morwen," he replied, taking her hand and leading her from the room.
"What is the decision?" Narion asked his younger brother, Celvandil, as they moved out into the hall.
"We will be moving out tomorrow, provided the young soldier has confirmed the rumor. Will you be joining us?"
"Yes, the rumor is true and I would not miss a battle if my men were going, you know that as well as I. But now, like my daughter, I must retire to my room. Many things will be happening on the morrow and I must prepare for them." So saying, he set off down the hall, his wife by his side.
"Yes," Celvandil muttered to himself, "and who knows what could happen. May the Valar protect us."