The next morning, Luinëhothiel did not meet her father and sister at the bottom of the great staircase as she usually did. Instead, she remained in her bed for many hours…lying on her side, curled into a tight ball…completely motionless.
The intense, afternoon sun shone directly onto the pale face of Rivendell’s youngest Princess, turning her skin a slight shade of pink, yet she did not stir. Not even the sound of singing birds outside her window disturbed her.
-----
Lord Elrond stood at the railing of the balcony outside the great hall. He was consumed by deep thoughts that weighed heavily on his heart. He sighed deeply, hearing soft footsteps approach him.
“I asked to be left alone.” he stated, not even turning around to see his visitor.
“Father, it’s me, Arwen.” the young Elven maiden announced, continuing to move in her father’s direction.
Elrond turned around to look upon his daughter with grief-filled eyes. He clasped his hands behind his back and made his way past her slowly.
“Your sister is not well, I fear.” he said, his voice catching in his throat for a short moment. He took a deep breath and exhaled without force.
“As expected, dear father. The news of Aragorn and Legolas’ need for departure created a sudden jolt in her dream world.” Arwen said, a hint of sadness filling her voice. “She has never known such heartbreak…well, except for when mother…” She stopped and chose not to continue on that path, knowing the grief was still present in her father’s heart.
“I know.” Elrond agreed with a shallow nod of his head. He looked up into Arwen’s eyes and found deep sympathy in their dark brown depths. He smiled half-heartedly. “We must go check on your sister.”
-----
Luinëhothiel did not move at all when her father and sister entered her chamber. She stayed in the same position as she’d been for the past few hours.
Elrond approached her with caution, not wanting to startle the young girl, and placed a gentle hand upon her forehead. Her skin was hot to the touch and had a slight clammy feel to it. He lowered his head closer to hers and listened to her breathing, which was shallow, but still recognizable.
“How is she faring?” Arwen questioned, coming closer to the foot of the bed.
“I believe she is getting worse.” Elrond answered with a frown. “I will need to use my powers to remedy her, although, I am sure she will not be completely healed. There is only one person who can do that.” he finished, placing one of his palms back on his daughter’s forehead and, the other, on her right shoulder. He began to recite the ancient Quenyan words that he hoped would take some of Luinëhothiel’s pain away.
-----
Elrond continued this practice for many days until he, himself, became significantly weaker. Luinëhothiel began to show promise of a cure after the fifth day. Her breathing became steadier, her fever began to reduce, and she started showing signs of consciousness. But, immediately after Elrond discontinued his treatment, her health, once again, took a turn for the worse.
-----
“I can not do anymore…” Elrond whispered, taking a seat in his large throne. His looks had changed drastically is the past 2 weeks…his eyes became dull, his face drawn and tired, and his movements had slowed significantly.
“What else is there to do, father?” Arwen asked, her eyes showing the same dullness as Elrond’s.
“We must send a messenger to Mirkwood, to find Legolas and bring him back. It is the only other way to cure our Jewel.” he ordered with stern intent, a solitary tear passing over his smooth cheek.
-----
The messengers, Elrond’s own twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, were sent
that very hour. They were dispatched with the knowledge of the urgency
of the matter. Their youngest sister’s life was now in their hands.
| Part VII |
| Index |