A comforting sense of forgetfulness was draped over him like a shroud; drowning out all fears and all questions in a warm and dark embrace. Yet it was not a sense of peace that filled his limited perception, for peace is a state of being that is dependent upon the existence of another, alternative state. Without war or conflict what meaning does the word peace have? Perhaps then oblivion would be correct; an absence of all sensation except darkness. Although despite the emptiness around him, not all was still and silent. The sensation caused ripples to spread outwards throughout his mind, his being. Even as he fought to ignore it, a voice was growing ever more insistent within his mind, a voice that demanded action and would no longer be ignored. Struggling against the sensation he discovered that leverage was required for such resistance; a force cannot be applied without a solid grounding and he could not struggle against an insistent voice without first acknowledging his own existence within the darkness.
Understanding hit him and he awoke. His eyes were reluctant to open for a moment, as if he had been asleep for years, for a count of time exceeding the small measure allotted to mortals. He gave brief consideration to the prospect of remaining in the calming fugue state that had held him so tightly, but knew that he would find no true rest that way. Instead he focused upon the simplest of tasks before him. His eyelids succumbed to his will and opened slowly. Pain flooded through his mind as the light overwhelmed his senses. It took what seemed to be an age for his eyes to adjust to the dazzling light of the room. Once his vision had become clearer, he looked around the room he found himself in. It appeared to be evening time judging by the faint light flowing lazily through the window and the flickering of several functional yet decorative lamps hanging around the simple room. The complex patterns of light and shadows danced over every surface, holding his attention briefly as he followed the random movements. Flowers appeared to be sprouting from every available surface and the cloying scent filled the warm air before becoming merely a pleasant distraction again. Lavender mixed with blood, then burning flesh becoming lavender and herbs. He was lying upon a long bed with clean white sheets wrapped around him. They trapped him and sapped all strength from his limbs, a white prison, soft and comfortable sheets keeping him warm from the evening air. A dark-haired figure sat in a low chair, their face turned away and their identity unknown. The only sounds in the room were the flickering flames of the lamps and the soft, steady breathing of the unknown guest. The combination was at once soothing and discordant and his senses reeled at the conflicting signals.
His thoughts seemed to flow slowly through his mind as if they were as thick as honey and as swiftly as the white waters of the Bruinen. He observed his surroundings, yet the meaning of such a combination of objects was unclear. His brow became furrowed at the unfamiliar sensation; under the influence of a long days’ worth of strong wine things had always at least appeared solid and non-translucent. A room might swim but the purpose, the definition, of a room would remain clear. He attempted to blink the sensation away yet still everything appeared to be blurred and painfully clear, if sound and scent could even be described in such a way. Visual distortions were more easily overcome than when other senses attempt to provide an alternative truth. He raised his hand to his eyes in a final attempt to try and remove the lethargy from his mind by rubbing at them with his palm and knuckles. As he moved he felt a series of discomforts flowing through his arms, chest, neck and face, but no pain. His hand was wrapped thickly with white bandages, though it too felt only of a distant discomfort. He tried flexing his fingers, but the bandages were too tight to allow any movement. Laying his left hand down, he instead lifted his right, feeling a resistance from his shoulder as he did so. The hand was familiar at least to him, one detail that could anchor his drifting mind. Whole, yet coloured in hues of blacks, blues and sickly greens. Two of his fingernails appeared to be missing and the sight discomforted him. Once more, there was no pain from his battered hand as he rubbed it over his eyes.
Blinking rapidly, he realised that the sensation had not passed, but perhaps had lessened. Deciding to sit up rather than lay where he was, he began the laboriously simple task of moving from a lying to a sitting position. A sharp jolt of pain pierced the fog that surrounded him and he gasped as fire ripped through his chest, catching him by unpleasant surprise. The seated figure started at the noise and turned. Laurelindo hurriedly stood up and crossed to the bed, looking upon Estarfin with concern.
“It would be better if you would lie still Lord, rather than attempting to pull out your stitches by sitting up. You are fortunate to still be alive you realise? Do not attempt to bypass the necessary recovery.” Laurelindo gently scolded Estarfin, though there was no rancour in his voice and while he spoke he was already checking the bandages that covered the arrow-wound. A little blood appeared on the bandage as he worked and he sighed. “It was time to change the dressing anyway, so perhaps it is fortunate that you are awake and determined to sit up. Hold on to me, and move slowly.”
Estarfin held out his right hand which Laurelindo took and looped around the back of his neck. Sliding an arm beneath Estarfin’s shoulders he began pulling him upright gently. Estarfin let out a small groan of pain as his body protested at the movement before he finally collapsed back against the pillows that were piled up behind him. Laurelindo tutted gently and began unwinding the bandages that covered his torso as his patient lay panting against the pillows. After a few moments attempting to compose himself, Estarfin tried to speak but instead let out a series of hacking coughs.
“Get him a drink if you insist on remaining here despite my advice.” Estarfin looked around in surprise as Ruineth emerged from the shadows at Laurelindo’s words. She swiftly crossed the room and poured him a goblet of water from a silver jug that rested upon a table near to the window. Bringing it to him, he could not help but notice that the goblet shook slightly in her hand. She was dressed more formally than was usual; a long flowing dress of silver and blue silks and her long dark hair hanging freely, rather than tied back and matched with the usual dirty leather work apron. She passed the drink to him, then stepped back quickly.
“Drink slowly…” Estarfin took a deep swig of the cold liquid at the same time as Laurelindo warned him. Sighing resignedly, Laurelindo began unwrapping the wet bandages to start again. “Am I speaking to myself?”
“S..ry” croaked Estarfin after sipping a little water more carefully. After a moment, he spoke again. “...t happ.n..? .s D.nel? L.ng?….”
“I must insist that you do not waste what little strength remains to you by asking such questions.” Laurelindo held up a hand to forestall Estarfin’s continued fractured line of questioning. “If it will bring you a measure of peace, I will attempt to answer these questions if you agree to speak no more.” He waited for Estarfin to respond before he continued to speak, all the while wrapping clean bandages around his chest. “Very well then. Firstly, I am not sure what happened, so I can only tell you what I know and what others have told me. You left the Valley for goodness-knows what purpose. You somehow managed to catch the Lady Danel up in your madness as well, for she followed you. Captain, no, Lord Dolthafaer was sent to retrieve you both, which is what he did.” He pulled the bandages a little tighter, then tied them together into a knot.
"If I may?" interrupted Ruineth. "Lord Estarfin had good reason to depart the Valley, even if others of your House see little value in protecting our borders. The Lady Danel, well I do not assume to know what purpose she had following my Lord into the wilds after distancing herself from him for so long."
Laurelindo waited for her to finish ranting, then responded calmly. “As I have often had cause to repeat, I have no understanding of those members of my House who continually seek to throw themselves into the path of danger and then find themselves under my care. Whatever her reasoning, Lady Danel is within her chambers resting I hope, although I am never surprised by how my words of caution are ignored by folks such as yourself. She is less badly-injured than you, but her vision has still not returned.” He shook his head a little sadly at the pronouncement. “I assume that your third question was how long you had been sleeping for? It has been twelve days since you were brought here from the mountains. Now enough both of you, you must rest.”
Laurelindo stood up and walked to a cupboard, pulling various pots and pouches out seemingly at random. Estarfin lost interest and instead turned his head to look at Ruineth, beckoning her forwards. Even with his dulled senses, he could see that her eyes were red and her skin pale, as if she had suffered some great misfortune or terrible grief. She attempted a brief smile but it swiftly failed as she looked at him. She reached out a delicate hand and brushed his hair off of his face and behind his ear. Ruineth let her gaze drift from his grey eyes as she took in the state of him for the thousandth time. She sat softly upon the bed next to him and took his right hand in both of hers as he began coughing again.
"Shhh, do not speak my Lord, save your strength as your healer commands. He says that you should recover in time. Mostly. There is significant damage to your shoulder, chest and leg, these may prove difficult to heal and may never function as they once did." Ruineth tried to suppress a sob as she stroked his hand softly. "Your left hand... It is perhaps beyond healing as Laurelindo tells me. He believes that you may never be able to use it again, that you may never again hold shield for battle or tongs for smithing."
She looked him in the eyes again, then turned away as she saw the beginning of tears at the corners of his eyes. Bending down she kissed his hand softly. "Do not give in to despair, there is still hope. I know what it is that you did for us, what you sacrificed to try to ensure our safety." She lowered her voice so that Laurelindo would not overhear. "There is a guard upon the door here and talk of an arrest warrant for you signed by Veryacano. Why do they hound you so, why do they not understand that every action you take is for the good of us all? I will not allow them to harm you, or to further let that poisonous snake of an Ambassador try to shame your name. Do you know that he would not lift a finger to lend you aid, why that servant of his would not even let me speak to him. Who does he think he is to ignore me? To ignore you? If you wish, I can have a horse waiting for you with enough supplies for us to ride wherever you will. Others will help us." She watched him carefully as she finished speaking. Estarfin met her gaze, then softly shook his head.
"As you wish, I did not think it would be your way to flee, even from such vicious and false claims. Lord Anglachelm himself saw fit to carry you here from the entrance to the mountain pass, he will restrain any foolish or spiteful actions I think. I shall leave you to rest now. Is there any service you wish of me before I depart?"
Estarfin nodded. "..nel. Ch..k her?"
She released his hand and stood, pausing briefly to wipe the tears from her face with the back of her hand. "I will seek Danel out and will bring you word of her. I will take my leave now Lord." Turning to Laurelindo she spoke quickly. "Heal him swiftly, for we are all poorer without him." Then Ruineth turned and strode purposefully from the chamber, her gown shimmering in the light as it flowed behind her.
Slowly, Estarfin lifted his bandaged left hand and stared at it. He tried moving his fingers and was met with waves of pain instead. The room was clearer than ever before as he realised every part of him that had previously been numb was beginning to throb nauseatingly with pain. He let out a piteous groan at the sensation and Laurelindo hurried over to him. He stared at his eyes briefly, then spoke almost to himself. "It is wearing off then." He picked up the goblet of water that Estarfin had been drinking from and poured whatever he had been mixing into it. Holding out the goblet and a clean cloth he said "Take a sip of this. It will dull the pain and help you to rest and heal more swiftly."
For a moment Estarfin thought to resist the lure of drug-induced sleep before he started coughing again and spasms of pain tore through his chest. He spat a mouthful of blood into the cloth that Laurelindo passed to him and then greedily took the goblet from Laurelindo’s hand and drank it swiftly before the healer could protest. Almost immediately the pain lessened and the outline of Laurelindo became distorted and began shifting, the urgency of his voice fading to insignificance. He began coughing again but experienced no pain and instead wondered at the sensation he felt when trying to breathe as if the air was almost...thick. His eyelids grew heavy as he heard faintly Laurelindo shouting for Uilossiel and Eliriael to hurry as his chest heaved and he tasted blood again. The room began to darken as the shroud of forgetfulness embraced him once more and took him far from the frantic movements and noises of the small room of healing.
