The Littlest Warrior

Shortly before noon, the Lórien elves were led into the healing wing of the Last Homely House where they were met by Elrond’s chief apprentice Udalin. Udalin was a long time resident of the Elven refuge, having lived there for almost an age. Though his residence in Imladris was long, his time as a healer was relatively short, short that is for an elf. Elrond had taken Udalin on as an apprentice only 154 years ago after a particularly vicious border battle with a horde of renegade orcs. Thankfully, there were no deaths, but the injured seemed to come in droves and the healing wing was overrun with victims.

Udalin like many others, pitched in to lend a hand, and showed an amazing affinity for healing. When the battle was done, and the wounded mending and sleeping peacefully, Elrond called Udalin into his study and proposed that he begin training as a healer. Up to this point Udalin had been floundering, doing a little of this and a little of that, and had not found his true calling, a way to contribute to the survival and upkeep of Imladris.

When Elrond’s offer came, the eager elf jumped at the chance, flattered by his Lord’s confidence in his ability. From that day to this, Udalin had been at Elrond’s side learning everything he could about healing, and in his Lord’s absence the ambitious elf was in complete and unquestioned charge of the healing wing; unquestioned that is until today.

As Timagol gently placed Andras on one of the beds, Elwaith began to gingerly unwrap the elf’s arm, and a new battle ensued. “Please stand aside,” Udalin ordered as he moved towards Andras’ bed, “I will handle things from here.”

“With all due respect…,” Elwaith answered, “Andras is badly injured I think it best if I continue with his treatment until Lord Elrond arrives.”

Udalin was somewhat taken aback by what he deemed to be the elf’s audacity, and said as much.

“Respect noted, but nevertheless, until Lord Elrond arrives I am in charge of this infirmary and I will take care of any patients brought in until my lord arrives.”

Elwaith was tired, too tired to argue with an elf that at best seemed pushy, and at worst was rude. He was also afraid, afraid that the elf would cause more harm than good and he was not about to surrender his charge to anyone other than the Lord of Imladris himself. Standing up slowly, he faced the healer head on and made his own pronouncement.

“Respectfully, Master…?”

“Udalin” the elf replied, knowing full well that the ‘benefit of doubt’ that Elwaith had afforded him in regard to his ‘position’ was as yet unearned. He had yet to attain the title of ‘Master’ of anything. He was 1st assistant, nothing more.

“Respectfully, Master Udalin, you have no idea what you are dealing with here, and I have no intention of releasing Andras to the care of anyone other than Lord Elrond.”

Furious, Udalin mounted his attack…“How dare you? You impudent young pup…”

However, he never got the chance to finish the sentence, for Timagol was now on his feet and coming to Elwaith’s side, and the young healer’s short temper silenced all further discussion.

“How dare I? I will tell you how I dare…were you with this elf when he was attacked? Were you the one who rode with him non-stop day and night for four days while he screamed in agony? Were you the one who developed the only potion that seems to bring him some comfort from his torment? Or perhaps you were the one who rode with him in the back of a cart all the way from Lóthlórien, praying that you could come up with something, anything that would relieve his pain and restore his arm to usefulness? I submit to you sir that you were not!

You speak of age as though time is something of consequence to an elf. I say to you that trying to reckon time is a foolish waste of yours! However old you are, I suspect that I have been a healer for quite a bit longer than you have, for you do not seem to have acquired as yet, the wisdom that says that the first responsibility must be to the patient, not to who has been left to run the infirmary! I dare sir because I have been charged with the welfare of this elf by Lord Celeborn himself - to deliver him into the hands of Lord Elrond – and Lord Elrond alone. And as long as there is breath in my body I will carry out that charge – and I will not allow anyone to stand in my way!”

“Enough!” came the shouted voice of Erestor from the doorway, and then a gentler tone was heard as the Master entered the room…”Consider your charge fulfilled Elwaith…I am here.”

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There was certainly a lot of excitement going on in the house, or at least that’s what Estel thought as he skipped along the corridor heading for Erestor’s study. Finally reaching his destination the little one stopped, straightened his tunic, and knocked on the large oak door. Waiting patiently for all of five seconds for a response, he knocked again. When again he received no answer, he looked up and down the hallway for someone who might open the door for him. Seeing no one, he decided that perhaps now would be a good time to go and see if his Ada was finished talking to the new blond warrior. Heading for his father’s study Estel was intrigued by all the hustle and bustle; peeking into the laundry, he heard the ellith talking animatedly about all the handsome warriors who had just arrived from Lórien. Perwaen in particular seemed to be exceptionally excited about someone named ‘Hal-deer’. He stood in the doorway listening for quite a while before the enthusiastic females took notice.

“Estel “ Perwaen exclaimed, “…what are you doing here little one, do you need something?”

“I am trying to find my Ada.”

“Your father is in his sammoth little one, but I think he,” she hesitated, “he is supposed to go to the healing wing, there is an injured warrior who needs his help.”

Hearing this news, a scowl came over the child’s face and Estel became instantly fearful saying "Iss not my brudders is it?”

“No little one, your brothers are fine, I just saw them a while ago.”

Slightly relieved, the child continued…"What about Glorfy, iss not Glorfy or Linwë is it?”

Perwaen realized that she needed to put the boy’s mind at ease, otherwise she could be there all day eliminating warriors. “No Estel, it is not anyone from Imladris, the sick warrior has come from Lórien.”

“Perwaen do you know where ‘Westor is? I pwamiced Ada I would go to my lessons, but ‘Westor is not in his room, and I don’ know where he is.”

“Why do you not come in here and keep us company until Lord Erestor returns…he should be back soon Estel, he is getting the visitors settled in their rooms.”

Estel looked rather forlorn, he was hoping to find Erestor quickly so he could keep his promise, but mostly so he could ask questions about the newcomers . He was fairly sure, after listening in the doorway, that the maidens didn’t know much about what was going on, and both his father and Erestor had always told him to go straight to the person who knew the most about a subject if he had questions . With that in mind, Estel contemplated his options and decided that staying with the maidens probably wasn’t the best way to find out what was happening, he needed to find a warrior if he wanted to know what all the hubbub was about.

“No t’sank you Perwaen, I t’ink I better go find Roh…he can help me,” and with that the little one was off and running towards his brother’s room. Racing, or as close to it as he could get, up the stairs, he rounded the corner heading to Elrohir’s chambers and ran headlong into the legs of one of his favorite people…Cilinwë.

“Whoa there my little warrior,” the dark haired elf said as he scooped the boy up and held him overhead with one hand while the child giggled hysterically. “Where are you heading in such a rush Estel? I see that you have all your clothes on so you cannot be running from a bath…where are you going?”

As he lowered the child into his arms Estel immediately started asking questions. “Linwë who are all da new warriors in da house? Perwaen said dey came all the way from Lórien…is Lórien far away Linwë? Linwë whas hebenly? Perwaen said Hal-deer was hebenly.”

“Hebenly Estel?”

“Yeth, Perwaen said he was dreamy, he was hebenly.”

“Oh… you mean ‘heavenly’ Estel, heavenly.”

“Yeth dat, whas dat mean?”

“It means I think, that Perwaen….likes the way Haldir looks.”

“Oh…, does she not like da way we look?”

“Oh I am sure she does little one, but I think it means she likes Haldir in a …special way.”

“Oh…, are we not special?”

Cilinwë was more than acquainted with where this conversation was headed and tried to head off some of the questions with a query of his own. “Yes little one we are special too, but you have not answered me…where are you headed?”

“I tryin’ to find Roh, so he can help me.”

“What do you need help with Estel, perhaps I may be of assistance.”

“Woud you?”

“If I can…what seems to be the problem?”

“I wan’ to know who all da warriors are. Why did dey come here Linwë?”

Cilinwë was now mentally kicking himself; he should have known that once Estel had a thought in his head there would be no avoiding it until he had the answers to everything. Laughing in spite of himself Cilinwë countered, “All right little inquisitor…I will answer all your questions about our visitors if you will answer some questions for me first.”

The child nodded enthusiastically in the affirmative saying, “Wha you wanna know?”

“Does your adar know where you are?”

“I don’ t’ink so, Ada told me to go to lessons but Westor wassen dere.”

“So Erestor does not know where you are either?”

“Nope.”

“What about your brothers, do they know where you are?”

“Nope.”

Estel played with Cilinwë’s braids as the warrior bounced him in his arms and said, “Well then, the first thing we have to do is to let someone know where you are, if you are supposed to be at lessons then Erestor is probably pulling his hair out wondering what has happened to you.”

“You t’ink Westor is pullin’ his hair out?” the child said incredulously . “Den we better hurry cause I like Westor’s hair, iss just like yours, he said as he continued to finger Cilinwë’s braids, “…sides I don’ t’ink Ada wants to have a bald ‘sistent, he will look funny at council.”

Cilinwë’s laugh echoed throughout the corridor as he tried to imagine a bald Erestor sitting counsel with Lord Elrond. “I think you are right little one, we had better find our friend straight away for you are correct,” he said as he tickled the child, “he would look quite silly with no hair.”

Continuing to tease the giggling bundle in his arms the sword master was glad he’d taken his time coming into the house, for he’d run into the little one who was so much as he had once been. Carrying the boy down the corridor to Erestor’s rooms he once again thanked Eru for this blessing that had come so unexpectedly into his life, and silently vowed once more to always be there when Estel needed him.

“Now,” he said cheerfully, “…about those warriors….”