Live Journal FeedThe healing wing seemed to sing with activity and talk. Even those healers and helpers who had not attended Andras or his arm, sat speculating as to whether or not the limb could be repaired. Udalin and Elwaith struck a truce of sorts, and busied themselves with the young elf’s care. As had become their habit, Timagol continued to carefully carry his friend to and from the larger more private room as Lord Elrond had instructed. Each day Elwaith undressed Andras and Timagol stripped down to his braises, and when the still sleeping Andras was ready, he carefully lifted his friend and carried him to the private bathing pool adjacent to Andras’ room.
Gingerly he stepped down into the water and held Andras afloat at the edge of the pool as Elwaith leaned over the side and gently bathed the unconscious elf. The lad’s hair fanned out across the water like a golden spider web, and Timagol was struck with how truly beautiful and peaceful he looked. It was a far cry from the anguished, tormented elf he’d carried that fateful night when the traveling party arrived back in Lothlórien. A faint smile graced young Andras’ face, and Timagol thought that he must be dreaming; he prayed that the dreams were pleasant ones, his friend had been through quite enough, – he deserved this respite.
As Elwaith gently washed the elf’s hair, Timagol tried his best not to look at the arm, but it was hard to ignore. He gazed at it transfixed; it was still difficult to believe that this could have happened to one of the firstborn, let alone to his friend. For the last three weeks during their travel he had lifted and carried Andras, helped to bathe and feed him, watched over and protected him, and yes, had even held him down so that the other’s could force the elixir down his unwilling throat. During this time the sentry had somehow managed to hold it together, to keep his emotions in check, but here in this pool looking down on his helpless friend, what seemed like a tidal wave of emotion overcame him.
He closed his eyes trying desperately to stop the tears, but it was no use. They streamed from his eyes unabated, and his body began to shake as he sobbed uncontrollably. Elwaith looked up from his task, uncertain of what to do, or what to say. He placed a hand on Timagol’s shoulder and silently lent his support. He knew only too well the depth of emotion that Timagol was experiencing for he too had broken down along the way. He also knew that he was not nearly eloquent enough to talk him through this anguish, but there was one amongst them who was, one who claimed he was still ‘searching’ for his life’s calling.
(Flashback
Almost every night he found himself in tears, tears of worry and frustration, empathy, sadness, and fear. Fear that what he knew would not be enough, that he would never be as good as Master Beregnas was, and he certainly was no Elrond Half-Elven. Fear that his skills were so lacking, that there could be no hope for Andras. “Sweet Eru, what had Lord Celeborn been thinking in sending him along?” He was not nearly good enough for this task.
Each night he pulled his blanket up into a wad and held it to his mouth trying desperately to block the sounds of his despair. It was the fourth night of their last week on the trail, and he was so overcome with worry and grief that he did not know if he could go on. He prayed to the Valar for strength, strength of will and strength of ability.
Laying there sobbing into his blanket, he was surprised by the sudden sensation of a hand on his back. Rolling over he was stunned to see Orophin sitting by his side. At first the stoic sentry said not a word; he just sat, allowing his friend time to compose himself. Elwaith sat up quickly, wiping the tears from his eyes; he was just about to make some excuse for his emotional state when Orophin placed an arm around his shoulder, giving the distraught elf a comradely hug, then the soft-spoken elf began to speak.
“When I was younger I wanted to be just like my older brothers. I tried and tried, and I worked as hard as I could, but I could never do things quite as well as they did. I was never as fast a runner as Haldir, or as good an archer as Rúmil, and of course it did not help that by the time I was 45 I was taller than both of them – it made me rather awkward and ungainly…very uncoordinated.” He paused then, allowing his words to sink in and to give Elwaith a few minutes more to settle himself down.
“Did you know that Rúmil is quite the scholar?”
“No,” Elwaith said tentatively, “I did not know that.”
“I know that sometimes it is hard to tell, given his penchant for jests and pranks, but he is,” Orophin said proudly. “Of the three of us, Rúmil has ever been the one with a book in his hand, the one who did the best with schooling. He has this innate ability to think problems through to multiple conclusions. To find ways to solve problems that others find insurmountable. I have always admired that about him,” he said wistfully, “…it was never something that I could master wholeheartedly; I am more the person you put to work to repair the problem once you have found the solution,” he laughed softly and then continued.
“It was hard keeping up with him…and near impossible to measure up to Haldir.”
“I can imagine…he is very stern, your brother,” Elwaith responded cautiously.
“Yes…but my brother has also always been a leader, I think that it is something that was just ‘born’ in him. When our parents died it was Haldir who took over our care. Mind you now, he was not that much older than Rúmil, 51 (equivalent of a 17year old) as I recall. Rúmil was 20 (equivalent of a 7 year old) and I was only seven (equivalent of an 18 month old). “Those were trying times for us, but he brought us through them.”
“I did not know that your parents were…,” he paused momentarily, not wanting to bring up a hurtful subject, then continued “…that Haldir raised you.” “I can see how it would have been tough on him, on all of you, with him being so young.”
“Aye, it was,” Orophin continued. He could have allowed others to care for us, but he did not; he said that with mother and father gone it was his task as eldest to provide for our family. He refused to allow anyone to refer to us as ‘orphans’, or to treat us as such ‘We are still a family,’ he would say…and we will stick together, and we will survive…as a family’. Oh from time to time he would accept help, usually it had something to do with me, (being the baby an all) and only then when The Lady insisted, but for the most part he did it all by himself.
He taught us both how to shoot an arrow, actually made our first real bows himself – custom carved to fit our hands alone. To this day there is still no one else who can comfortably fire Rúmil’s bow. He cooked, he cleaned, made sure we had clean clothes and were properly fed, he read to us, brushed our hair (I used to love it when he brushed my hair), he made sure that we kept up with our studies, and taught us what it meant to be Firstborn…he made it seem so easy – though Elbereth knows it could not have been – Rúmil and I could be quite a handful at times.”
He paused, gazing fondly up at the night sky, then made himself comfortable, laying back on the grass with his hands clasped behind his head before he continued.
“For many years he was both mother and father to us, guiding us, leading by example. And through it all he still managed to complete every single hour of his training as a warden. I know that there are some who think him too tough, arrogant…even uncaring – but nothing could be further from the truth. He cares more than anyone I know, cares that we are all well and safe…and to that end I do not think there is anything that he would not do, including giving up his life.”
“Now mind you, there are any number of warriors who would gladly volunteer to do battle, to risk death in defense of our home…but Haldir has truly given up his life – the prospect of his own home, a wife, children…happiness…all for our sake and the sake of the Golden Wood. He has given up that which he desires more than anything else so that the rest of us might sleep a little easier – so that what happened to the three of us does not ever befall others.”
“Yes,” Elwaith replied thoughtfully as his voice trailed off, “I see now that he overcame many obstacles…many obstacles.”
“He is the strongest person I know, and yet… with all his considerable inner strength – even he had nights like this.”
“You mean like…?”
“Yes Elwaith,” he said gently.
“Our Haldir?” Elwaith queried incredulously.
Orophin smiled and nodded, “Yes, our Haldir…nights just like this one. Nights when he would muffle his cries with his pillow, despairing over all that we had lost. Hurt, down to the quick of him, over the loss of our parents and all that remained to be done to insure that we survived. It was a lot of responsibility to place on the shoulders of one so young.”
“It was on those nights that I would climb into his bed and curl up in his arms or drape myself over his back and talk to him - just as I am talking to you now. Not about anything important or Middle Earth shattering, just talk. Later he would say that it calmed him, helped him to see things more clearly – to see that perhaps things were not as bleak as he imagined – and he would put that bad night behind him and go forward, and he would be successful. Granted, I am probably a little biased, but I think Haldir is an extraordinary elf.”
“Yes…quite extraordinary” Elwaith said thoughtfully. “Phin, do you feel that you have, ‘caught up with them’, so to speak?
“Oh no…,” he said as he shook his head smiling, “…but then, I do not think that I am supposed to.” “I never could measure up to them; no matter how hard I tried. I always seemed to fall just short of the perfection that he and Rúmil seemed to achieve so easily. Me - I struggled.”
“You Phin?”
“Yes, me. And they watched me struggle; I think it may be one of the hardest things they have ever had to do. Wanting desperately to help me, yet not wanting to coddle me or fight my battles for me . Then finally one day my brothers sat me down for a talk. Haldir took three cups from the cupboard, in one he poured water, in the second he poured wine, and in the third he poured a cup of milk. He told me that the cups represented each of us, – our family, each different but each necessary to make life worthwhile.”
“Haldir took the water, he passed the wine to Rúmil and gave the milk to me. Though he gave me the cup, he would not let me drink from it – told me to sit, listen, and watch. Holding up the cup he explained that water was essential to maintaining life, rather like him and his task as March Warden. He then elaborated on the wine, saying that although it was not essential to every day existence, it still made living more interesting and enjoyable…not unlike our dear Rúmil. At this point, while Rúmil sipped the wine emptying the cup, Haldir stood and walked slowly around the table pouring the water out as he went. He said that I was to stop trying to be like him or like Rúmil, that I was to stop worrying about whether others compared me to them. He said I was unique, and that I was to stop trying to please other people and live my life doing the things that made me happy. To just be myself, and with time - what I was destined to be good at, would be revealed to me; that it would become as clear to me, as it already was to him. Then he told me to think about what he said and what I saw – and he and Rúmil left and went on patrol.”
“I do not suppose that I will ever be as smart as Rúmil, or as strong a leader as Haldir…but I still have hope,” he smiled, “I will find my calling sooner or later.”
He was quiet for some minutes more, then he slowly sat up saying, “Well…I have talked your ear off quite enough for one night, I guess we had better get some sleep, we have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow . Good night Elwaith…sleep well my friend.”
With that, he rose and moved silently towards his bedroll. Elwaith however, had a question, and stopped him before he got too far away…
“Orophin?”
“Yes, Waith?”
“Haldir compared himself to the water and Rúmil to the wine…would that not mean that you were the milk?”
“It would indeed”
“Why would Haldir not let you drink the milk?”
Phin smiled, “Well, he said that the milk was nurturing, and comforting, and that every soul needed that. But more importantly he wanted me to see for myself – that no matter what became of the water and the wine, with time the cream in the milk… would still rise to the top. Good night Waith.”
“Good night Phin.”
Elwaith sat there smiling, and his thoughts were now clear, remembering everything Orophin said, suddenly things did not seem so futile…he had conquered obstacles before…found cures before, and he would find one this time as well; there was no longer any doubt in his mind that it would happen. He would stop doubting himself, he would stop comparing himself to Master Beregnas; if the great Master had not believed in him he would not have recommended him for the position. All would be well. “Haldir was right, Lord Celeborn chose well,” for there was now no doubt in his mind who the smartest and strongest of the Lórien brothers truly was…it was the one who had finally found his calling, and he smiled as he watched Lórien’s most sought after counselor tuck himself in for the night.
