Post by Lady Elestirne on Apr 29, 2007 21:15:25 GMT -5
Tenth Chapter
"And this, my child, is elenloth," said Amaurea; passing her daughter a plant. Elestirne took the offered herb gently; fingering its starry blue flowers. "It's pretty. What is it for Ama?"
"Many things, for it has many uses. The most common of these, and the one most widely known to the woodfolk, is that it soothes inflammations and bruises when made into a poultice. It is also said to give courage and comfort the heart; dispelling melancholy and causing gladness."
"It can do that?" Elestirnes eyes were wide and she looked at the herb with awe.
"It is said and reputed to," answered Amaurea. "I gather it for its healing and culinary properties-not its supposed mystical ones. But it is pretty and that is another of its virtues. Borage men and the other races name it. Come child. The forest and your mother are not finished teaching and I have more herbs to gather. Follow me young one."
Obligingly Elestirne followed her mother obediently as the tall elf-woman wound through the forest collecting herbs; every so often telling her daughter the name and properties of some of those she gathered. Eagerly, the little elf absorbed all the information she could; enraptured by what her mother was teaching, enchanted by the way her mother's hair shone like gold and intrigued by the play of light on the leaves trees as it slanted through the upper branches to fill the forest with warm golden light.
Many thoughts were going through her mind as she followed her mother. Chief and foremost of them was: where had her father gone? She had seen him slip away and leave their grove early this morning but did not know to where he had went and he had spoken no word. And Ama did not seem to know. Elestirne had seen the worry and concern in her mother's eyes though Amaurea had tried to conceal it and that only served to worry the night-haired elf-child even further. If her mother was worried that told Elestirne that she should be worried as well. I wonder if Ada is all right. But Ama said that the forest protects him as it does us and that he protects himself, so he must be all right. And what could there be to hurt Ada ? It must be something else to worry Ama, she decided. Unbidden, the memory of the strange feeling she had felt this morning came to her mind; the odd, creeping feeling, a slimy feeling-one that gave the impression of something crawling over her skin. It had come on a strange wind and had made her skin prickle unpleasantly… And Ada had left right after… she remembered.
Though a child, Elestirne was smart. It did not take very long for her to work out that the strange wind, her father's abrupt departure, and her mother's worry were all connected with one another. The elf-child shivered as a chill crept up her spine. Something was amiss in her world, something that made the two people she loved more than anything else in the world worry and behave strangely and it frightened and worried her. Whatever had happened, she did not like the effect it had upon her parents. One slender, small hand curled more securely around the sprig of elenloth she still held. Instantly she felt slightly better; her dark thoughts evaporating. The child looked at the herb in surprise, but it was forgotten in the joy and wonder that washed over her at what she saw. "Ama! Ama!"
"What is it my child?" Amaurea instantly came back to her daughter and knelt at her side. "What is wrong?"
Elestirne pointed to a spot some hundred yards ahead of them. There, unaware yet of the two elves, a family of deer grazed; consisting of a doe, a yearling, and two fawns. A magnificent stag stood a little apart from his family.
"Oh Mother look at them..."Elestirne breathed; inching a few feet forward.
"Elestirne don't," started Amaurea, but the child did not check; steadily creeping forward. The tall elf-woman shook her head and started after her daughter, meaning to stop her before she startled the deer. Stubborn and headstrong, like her father, Amaurea reflected. "Elestirne stop and come back here at once."
This time, the child halted obediently, but she did not come back. "Elestirne. Come back here."
"But Ama, she's hurt." Elestirne pointed to the smaller fawn, whose leg was bent at an awkward angle. "See?"
An experienced healer, it only took Amaurea one glance to access the situation. She shook her head in sympathy and sorrow. "There's nothing you can do my child. It is a break that healed wrong, and a bad one indeed by the look of it. If I had been there when it had happened I could have done something but there is nothing for it now. The poor little one doesn't have much chance I'm afraid. Come away child."
Elestirne looked at her mother. Compassion and pain filled her lovely grey eyes-tears brimming in them-but there was also a steely resolve and determination. "I can't Ama. She's hurt. I have to help her. I can't let her die." The child began to move forward again.
Gods have mercy and grant me patience with this one, prayed Amaurea as she too, moved forward. "Daughter come here…" The words died on her lips and she froze in place abruptly, for the wind had shifted; carrying their scent to the deer. With sounds of alarm, the little family threw their heads up and stood still as stone. As did Amaurea. But Elestirne still moved forward, inch by inch, until she was only ten feet away. Then she also stopped.
Horrified, Amaurea could only watch from where she had frozen, as the great stag began to head for her daughter. His head was up; body tense. His family-as tense as he-hovered anxiously behind him; ready at the slightest signal to bolt and flee should danger threaten. All that is, but, curiously, the little fawn Elestirne had pointed out to her. The tiny thing's limbs trembled and it seemed about to collapse, but while its mother and siblings seemed tense and afraid she, by contrast, appeared only calm and curious; watching Elestirne with wonder. The little fawn, Amaurea saw now, couldn't be more than a month or two old-three at the most-an earlyborn perhaps.
The stag, meanwhile, had halted about five feet from Elestirne. Slowly, it lowered its magnificently antlered head to be more on an equal level with the curiously unafraid elf-child, then it raised its head to regard Amaurea where she still stood frozen thirty feet away. Then, remarkably, the stag turned and gently and carefully nosed the tiny, crippled fawn ahead of him towards Elestirne. He then backed off a few feet to stand with the rest of his family; watching. Trembling, the little fawn-with many glances back-uncertainly and tentatively took small, hobbling steps towards the strange thing her father had approached. Each step, Amaurea could tell, cost the tiny fawn pain.
Elestirne stayed frozen where she was; not making a sound as the fawn inched nearer. When there was only about a foot or two separating fawn and elf-child Elestirne extended her hand. The fawn trembled visibly-hesitating-then took two more limping steps to touch her nose to the child's hand. From where she stood Amaurea could see the smile and look of pure joy and wonder that lit her daughter's face as she slowly stroked the fawn's neck. "Elestirne." Amaurea's voice was quiet, but firm. "Elestirne. That's enough. Come away now."
"I feel her pain Ama…" Elestirne's voice was hushed also; full of wonderment. "She's suffering so much…I need to help her."
"Elestirne…"Amaurea started, but never finished the sentence. In amazement, she watched as a faint but definite silver-blue light enveloped her daughter's hands as she ran them over the fawn's crippled leg; enveloping it as well. A faint hum or song filled the air. Magic! Amaurea thought. The effect lasted only a moment, then the silver-blue glow faded. The fawn's leg was straight and whole.
The tiny deer flexed the foreleg experimentally, and hesitantly began to walk, and run. Soon she was cavorting about; kicking and leaping in joy. The stag touched his nose to her shoulder and she ceased; following him as he approached Elestirne-who still knelt unmoving; watching with wide eyes as he came. Slowly, majestically, he bowed his neck to her. The little fawn bowed her neck also, then extended the previously crippled leg in a short bow before turning to follow her father and the rest of her family. Almost as an afterthought, she came scampering back to nuzzle Elestirne and drop something in the elf-child's lap before disappearing into the forest with her family.
Once the deer had gone Amaurea rushed to her daughter; dropping to her knees to be more on an equal level with the child-who held something clenched in her hand. "Elestirne, what is it? What did she give you? Show me."
Slowly, Elestirne opened her hand to reveal a plant with clusters of small yellow flowers just starting to unfurl their petals. "I could feel her pain Mother…I had to help her. She needed me and I knew I could help. I couldn't let her suffer. The child looked searchingly into her mother's eyes. "Did I do wrong Ama?"
Amaurea hugged her. "No little one, you did the right thing. But you must not frighten me so. I feared for you for a few moments." She looked at the bloom in her daughter's hand. "Keep that. Gifts should be kept and this one is special. Deer are hard ones to gain the friendship of but you have done it dear one. That little fawn owes you her life and I daresay she will never forget it. Someday, I am sure, she will repay you for your kindness but those flowers were all she had to offer you now." Amaurea's lips curved into a smile. "A fitting gift, and symbolic."
"Why? What did she give me?" Elestirne looked curiously at the tall stalk covered in flowers that she held.
"Agrimony my child. It symbolizes gratitude and she most certainly is feeling that." Amaurea's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "It was also said to have immense healing powers but that has never been proven." The tall elf-woman looked around; glancing at the sun. "Come. We have wandered further from home than I thought and the afternoon begins to wane. Time we be making our way back little one. And you'll be needing rest, for you are likely tired from what you have done."
"But I did nothing,"Elestirne said. The child's face was confused, her lovely eyes clouded. "I just…reached Ama…and she was healed. I feel fine. Really." Contrary to her daughter's words, there was a weariness in Elestirne's face that the experienced healer in Amaurea instantly saw and recognized. Her young daughter wavered slightly as she stood. Standing also, Amaurea took her hand and began to lead her homeward.
The elven-woman was worried but concealed it from her daughter. She had not mentioned it to Elestirne, but Amaurea knew what the child had did, and how, and why she was weary-and it caused her great joy and amazement, yet, at the same time, worried and troubled her greatly. A double-edged sword perhaps? she mused to herself as she made her way back to the grove with her daughter in hand. And, like all double-edged swords, meant to be dealt with cautiously? The golden-haired wood-elf shook her head-having no answer to this-and continued with Elestirne through the woods.
"And this, my child, is elenloth," said Amaurea; passing her daughter a plant. Elestirne took the offered herb gently; fingering its starry blue flowers. "It's pretty. What is it for Ama?"
"Many things, for it has many uses. The most common of these, and the one most widely known to the woodfolk, is that it soothes inflammations and bruises when made into a poultice. It is also said to give courage and comfort the heart; dispelling melancholy and causing gladness."
"It can do that?" Elestirnes eyes were wide and she looked at the herb with awe.
"It is said and reputed to," answered Amaurea. "I gather it for its healing and culinary properties-not its supposed mystical ones. But it is pretty and that is another of its virtues. Borage men and the other races name it. Come child. The forest and your mother are not finished teaching and I have more herbs to gather. Follow me young one."
Obligingly Elestirne followed her mother obediently as the tall elf-woman wound through the forest collecting herbs; every so often telling her daughter the name and properties of some of those she gathered. Eagerly, the little elf absorbed all the information she could; enraptured by what her mother was teaching, enchanted by the way her mother's hair shone like gold and intrigued by the play of light on the leaves trees as it slanted through the upper branches to fill the forest with warm golden light.
Many thoughts were going through her mind as she followed her mother. Chief and foremost of them was: where had her father gone? She had seen him slip away and leave their grove early this morning but did not know to where he had went and he had spoken no word. And Ama did not seem to know. Elestirne had seen the worry and concern in her mother's eyes though Amaurea had tried to conceal it and that only served to worry the night-haired elf-child even further. If her mother was worried that told Elestirne that she should be worried as well. I wonder if Ada is all right. But Ama said that the forest protects him as it does us and that he protects himself, so he must be all right. And what could there be to hurt Ada ? It must be something else to worry Ama, she decided. Unbidden, the memory of the strange feeling she had felt this morning came to her mind; the odd, creeping feeling, a slimy feeling-one that gave the impression of something crawling over her skin. It had come on a strange wind and had made her skin prickle unpleasantly… And Ada had left right after… she remembered.
Though a child, Elestirne was smart. It did not take very long for her to work out that the strange wind, her father's abrupt departure, and her mother's worry were all connected with one another. The elf-child shivered as a chill crept up her spine. Something was amiss in her world, something that made the two people she loved more than anything else in the world worry and behave strangely and it frightened and worried her. Whatever had happened, she did not like the effect it had upon her parents. One slender, small hand curled more securely around the sprig of elenloth she still held. Instantly she felt slightly better; her dark thoughts evaporating. The child looked at the herb in surprise, but it was forgotten in the joy and wonder that washed over her at what she saw. "Ama! Ama!"
"What is it my child?" Amaurea instantly came back to her daughter and knelt at her side. "What is wrong?"
Elestirne pointed to a spot some hundred yards ahead of them. There, unaware yet of the two elves, a family of deer grazed; consisting of a doe, a yearling, and two fawns. A magnificent stag stood a little apart from his family.
"Oh Mother look at them..."Elestirne breathed; inching a few feet forward.
"Elestirne don't," started Amaurea, but the child did not check; steadily creeping forward. The tall elf-woman shook her head and started after her daughter, meaning to stop her before she startled the deer. Stubborn and headstrong, like her father, Amaurea reflected. "Elestirne stop and come back here at once."
This time, the child halted obediently, but she did not come back. "Elestirne. Come back here."
"But Ama, she's hurt." Elestirne pointed to the smaller fawn, whose leg was bent at an awkward angle. "See?"
An experienced healer, it only took Amaurea one glance to access the situation. She shook her head in sympathy and sorrow. "There's nothing you can do my child. It is a break that healed wrong, and a bad one indeed by the look of it. If I had been there when it had happened I could have done something but there is nothing for it now. The poor little one doesn't have much chance I'm afraid. Come away child."
Elestirne looked at her mother. Compassion and pain filled her lovely grey eyes-tears brimming in them-but there was also a steely resolve and determination. "I can't Ama. She's hurt. I have to help her. I can't let her die." The child began to move forward again.
Gods have mercy and grant me patience with this one, prayed Amaurea as she too, moved forward. "Daughter come here…" The words died on her lips and she froze in place abruptly, for the wind had shifted; carrying their scent to the deer. With sounds of alarm, the little family threw their heads up and stood still as stone. As did Amaurea. But Elestirne still moved forward, inch by inch, until she was only ten feet away. Then she also stopped.
Horrified, Amaurea could only watch from where she had frozen, as the great stag began to head for her daughter. His head was up; body tense. His family-as tense as he-hovered anxiously behind him; ready at the slightest signal to bolt and flee should danger threaten. All that is, but, curiously, the little fawn Elestirne had pointed out to her. The tiny thing's limbs trembled and it seemed about to collapse, but while its mother and siblings seemed tense and afraid she, by contrast, appeared only calm and curious; watching Elestirne with wonder. The little fawn, Amaurea saw now, couldn't be more than a month or two old-three at the most-an earlyborn perhaps.
The stag, meanwhile, had halted about five feet from Elestirne. Slowly, it lowered its magnificently antlered head to be more on an equal level with the curiously unafraid elf-child, then it raised its head to regard Amaurea where she still stood frozen thirty feet away. Then, remarkably, the stag turned and gently and carefully nosed the tiny, crippled fawn ahead of him towards Elestirne. He then backed off a few feet to stand with the rest of his family; watching. Trembling, the little fawn-with many glances back-uncertainly and tentatively took small, hobbling steps towards the strange thing her father had approached. Each step, Amaurea could tell, cost the tiny fawn pain.
Elestirne stayed frozen where she was; not making a sound as the fawn inched nearer. When there was only about a foot or two separating fawn and elf-child Elestirne extended her hand. The fawn trembled visibly-hesitating-then took two more limping steps to touch her nose to the child's hand. From where she stood Amaurea could see the smile and look of pure joy and wonder that lit her daughter's face as she slowly stroked the fawn's neck. "Elestirne." Amaurea's voice was quiet, but firm. "Elestirne. That's enough. Come away now."
"I feel her pain Ama…" Elestirne's voice was hushed also; full of wonderment. "She's suffering so much…I need to help her."
"Elestirne…"Amaurea started, but never finished the sentence. In amazement, she watched as a faint but definite silver-blue light enveloped her daughter's hands as she ran them over the fawn's crippled leg; enveloping it as well. A faint hum or song filled the air. Magic! Amaurea thought. The effect lasted only a moment, then the silver-blue glow faded. The fawn's leg was straight and whole.
The tiny deer flexed the foreleg experimentally, and hesitantly began to walk, and run. Soon she was cavorting about; kicking and leaping in joy. The stag touched his nose to her shoulder and she ceased; following him as he approached Elestirne-who still knelt unmoving; watching with wide eyes as he came. Slowly, majestically, he bowed his neck to her. The little fawn bowed her neck also, then extended the previously crippled leg in a short bow before turning to follow her father and the rest of her family. Almost as an afterthought, she came scampering back to nuzzle Elestirne and drop something in the elf-child's lap before disappearing into the forest with her family.
Once the deer had gone Amaurea rushed to her daughter; dropping to her knees to be more on an equal level with the child-who held something clenched in her hand. "Elestirne, what is it? What did she give you? Show me."
Slowly, Elestirne opened her hand to reveal a plant with clusters of small yellow flowers just starting to unfurl their petals. "I could feel her pain Mother…I had to help her. She needed me and I knew I could help. I couldn't let her suffer. The child looked searchingly into her mother's eyes. "Did I do wrong Ama?"
Amaurea hugged her. "No little one, you did the right thing. But you must not frighten me so. I feared for you for a few moments." She looked at the bloom in her daughter's hand. "Keep that. Gifts should be kept and this one is special. Deer are hard ones to gain the friendship of but you have done it dear one. That little fawn owes you her life and I daresay she will never forget it. Someday, I am sure, she will repay you for your kindness but those flowers were all she had to offer you now." Amaurea's lips curved into a smile. "A fitting gift, and symbolic."
"Why? What did she give me?" Elestirne looked curiously at the tall stalk covered in flowers that she held.
"Agrimony my child. It symbolizes gratitude and she most certainly is feeling that." Amaurea's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "It was also said to have immense healing powers but that has never been proven." The tall elf-woman looked around; glancing at the sun. "Come. We have wandered further from home than I thought and the afternoon begins to wane. Time we be making our way back little one. And you'll be needing rest, for you are likely tired from what you have done."
"But I did nothing,"Elestirne said. The child's face was confused, her lovely eyes clouded. "I just…reached Ama…and she was healed. I feel fine. Really." Contrary to her daughter's words, there was a weariness in Elestirne's face that the experienced healer in Amaurea instantly saw and recognized. Her young daughter wavered slightly as she stood. Standing also, Amaurea took her hand and began to lead her homeward.
The elven-woman was worried but concealed it from her daughter. She had not mentioned it to Elestirne, but Amaurea knew what the child had did, and how, and why she was weary-and it caused her great joy and amazement, yet, at the same time, worried and troubled her greatly. A double-edged sword perhaps? she mused to herself as she made her way back to the grove with her daughter in hand. And, like all double-edged swords, meant to be dealt with cautiously? The golden-haired wood-elf shook her head-having no answer to this-and continued with Elestirne through the woods.