Post by Admin on Jan 9, 2021 2:34:37 GMT
Author: Linda Hoyland
Author: 2nd place
Summary- Aragorn and Arwen comfort an ailing Eldarion.
Disclaimer – Tolkien and his heirs own these characters. I am not making money in writing for this contest.
Rating- G
“Master Eldarion seems to have caught a bad cold, sire,” the nursemaid informed the King.
Eldarion sneezed. Then he sneezed again and yet again. “I don’t dike ‘aving a dold,” he said mournfully.
“I fear everyone suffers from them occasionally,” said Aragorn. “You will be better in a few days.”
“I don’t feed dwell,” Eldarion sniffed. “By dose is doo snuffy to breef! “
Aragorn frowned and placed a hand on his son’s forehead. Eldarion did not protest. That was not a good sign. As he suspected, Eldarion’s brow felt hot. The little boy was suffering from a slight fever. “I will put you to bed myself, then your nanny can sit with you while I mix you some medicine to make you feel better,” he said. “You can sleep in naneth’s bed tonight.”
“My droat durts,” Eldarion croaked.
“I promise you will feel better tomorrow,” said the King. “Now blow your nose, so you can talk properly.”
“I want Naneth,” the little boy fretted as his father changed him into his night attire.
“She is coming soon,” Aragorn reassured him. “She is at an important meeting, but she will be home soon.”
000
When Arwen arrived back in the royal apartments an hour or so later, she found her husband stirring some honey into an herbal concoction. “Is someone unwell?” she asked.
“Eldarion has a feverish cold,” her husband replied. “I have put him to bed.”
Arwen turned pale. “My poor baby is ill!”
“All mortal children catch colds. It will pass in a few days,” Aragorn assured her. “It is nothing to worry about. He will just feel sorry for himself for a while.”
“I must go to him at once!” cried Arwen.
“Give him this medicine, vanimelda,” said Aragorn, handing the glass to her. “There is no cure for a cold, but it should ease him.”
000
Eldarion drank his medicine with much grimacing. “I’m hot!” he complained.
Arwen summoned a servant to bring water, in which lavender had been steeped, and bathed Eldarion’s face and neck with the mixture. She then tried to settle him down to sleep but the little boy remained fretful. He cast aside his blankets and continued to complain of being hot. At least he could now speak more clearly, the medicine having had some effect.
Arwen’s father had always been a great believer in the healing powers of fresh air, a belief that Arwen had been puzzled to learn that very few of the Gondorian healers shared.
“I will take you outside for some air,” she told her son. She unlocked the door leading to the balcony then took a blanket from the bed and wrapped him in it and carried him outside. It was a balmy spring night perfumed by the herbs in the garden below. Arwen wrinkled her nose at the pungent scent of wild garlic amongst the sweeter fragrances.
Her son in her arms, she settled herself on a chair and looked upwards at the heavens. She took a deep breath as she drank in the beauty of the stars, which never failed to comfort her. She recalled the long years that she and Estel had been apart. She had often looked at the heavens, knowing he too was beneath those same stars, carrying her memory in his heart.
Eldarion seemed less fretful out of doors and nuzzled against her. He followed her gaze and looked upwards, his eyes coming to rest upon the brightest star in the heavens. “Why is that star brighter than the others?” he asked his mother. “Is it our special star?”
Arwen smiled at her son. “That is indeed no ordinary star,” she said. “It is the Star of Hope, the ship in which your great- grandfather sails to give hope to Arda.”
Eldarion looked puzzled. “How did he get up there?”
Arwen rocked him gently in her arms. “Long ago before I was born, when many bad things were happening in Middle-earth, Eärendil decided to sail to Valinor and ask for help. He had a beautiful jewel called a Silmaril, which he wore on his brow to light his way.”
“Like ada wears the Star of Elendil?”
“Just like that.”
“Is Valinor where my grandfather and grandmother have gone to live?”
“Yes, ion nîn.” Arwen was silent for a moment. She blinked away a tear. “Eärendil reached Valinor and accomplished his mission, so the people of Middle-earth were saved. Now he sails across the sky every night, with the fair jewel he wears giving hope to all men as it shines in the darkness. Before your ada and I were wed, we were often apart, but we would look up at the star and think about each other and hope that one day our wish would come true that we would be married and have a little boy just like you!”
“Just like me?” Eldarion sneezed again. “Even when I sneeze?”
“Even when you sneeze, for all little boys get colds sometimes, your ada tells me.”
“Does Great -Grandfather get colds?” Eldarion asked.
“No,” said Arwen.
“He is lucky.” Eldarion sighed, then lapsed into silence.
After a few moments, Arwen realised that her son had finally fallen asleep. She continued gently rocking him in her arms. How fair his face looked in the starlight and so like his father!” She looked up at the stars and wondered if Eärendil could see this latest scion of his house.
A soft footfall behind her caused her to turn her head. Aragorn came to stand beside her. “How is he?” the King asked softly.
“A little better, I think,” said Arwen. “He was too hot so I brought him outside where he settled and fell asleep.”
Aragorn laid a gentle hand on his son’s brow. “The fever has lessened,” he said.
“Varda be praised!” Arwen gave a great sigh of relief.
Aragorn placed his arm tenderly around her shoulders. “The stars seem to shine especially brightly tonight,” he said.
“Varda gives extra light for the spring planting.”
“Once Eldarion is better, we should spend a few days with Faramir and Éowyn in Ithilien,” Aragorn suggested. “It would gladden my heart to walk in their gardens beneath the stars with you.”
“It would gladden my heart too,” said Arwen. “Maybe Éowyn’s herb garden would smell sweeter too. Do we have to grow wild garlic?”
Aragorn chuckled softly. “The Dúnedain wise women swear the best way to cure a cold is to walk in the woods where the wild garlic grows! It certainly seems to have helped our son.”
Arwen wrinkled her nose again. “Maybe,” she conceded. “More likely it was your medicine, though.”
“Garlic was one of the ingredients.”
The royal couple lapsed into silence as they gazed again at the stars which twinkled against a midnight blue sky.
“I look at the stars and think just how small I am compared to their vastness,” Aragorn mused.
“Some men shine as brightly as any star,” said Arwen. “You shine in my heart brighter even than the Star of Eärendil!”
“Thus speaks the Evenstar named for her beauty, which surpasses even the glories of the heavens!”
Arwen laughed, but her eyes shone with tenderness.
“It grows chill,” said Aragorn a little while later. “We should take Eldarion indoors. You should get some rest, vanimelda.”
“Very well, but leave the curtain open and let the starlight in.”
He gently scooped up his son in his arms and carried him indoors. Eldarion did not waken as he was tucked into his parent’s bed and they climbed in on either side of him.
Soon all three were lost in peaceful dreams as the stars looked down upon them.
Author: 2nd place
Summary- Aragorn and Arwen comfort an ailing Eldarion.
Disclaimer – Tolkien and his heirs own these characters. I am not making money in writing for this contest.
Rating- G
“Master Eldarion seems to have caught a bad cold, sire,” the nursemaid informed the King.
Eldarion sneezed. Then he sneezed again and yet again. “I don’t dike ‘aving a dold,” he said mournfully.
“I fear everyone suffers from them occasionally,” said Aragorn. “You will be better in a few days.”
“I don’t feed dwell,” Eldarion sniffed. “By dose is doo snuffy to breef! “
Aragorn frowned and placed a hand on his son’s forehead. Eldarion did not protest. That was not a good sign. As he suspected, Eldarion’s brow felt hot. The little boy was suffering from a slight fever. “I will put you to bed myself, then your nanny can sit with you while I mix you some medicine to make you feel better,” he said. “You can sleep in naneth’s bed tonight.”
“My droat durts,” Eldarion croaked.
“I promise you will feel better tomorrow,” said the King. “Now blow your nose, so you can talk properly.”
“I want Naneth,” the little boy fretted as his father changed him into his night attire.
“She is coming soon,” Aragorn reassured him. “She is at an important meeting, but she will be home soon.”
000
When Arwen arrived back in the royal apartments an hour or so later, she found her husband stirring some honey into an herbal concoction. “Is someone unwell?” she asked.
“Eldarion has a feverish cold,” her husband replied. “I have put him to bed.”
Arwen turned pale. “My poor baby is ill!”
“All mortal children catch colds. It will pass in a few days,” Aragorn assured her. “It is nothing to worry about. He will just feel sorry for himself for a while.”
“I must go to him at once!” cried Arwen.
“Give him this medicine, vanimelda,” said Aragorn, handing the glass to her. “There is no cure for a cold, but it should ease him.”
000
Eldarion drank his medicine with much grimacing. “I’m hot!” he complained.
Arwen summoned a servant to bring water, in which lavender had been steeped, and bathed Eldarion’s face and neck with the mixture. She then tried to settle him down to sleep but the little boy remained fretful. He cast aside his blankets and continued to complain of being hot. At least he could now speak more clearly, the medicine having had some effect.
Arwen’s father had always been a great believer in the healing powers of fresh air, a belief that Arwen had been puzzled to learn that very few of the Gondorian healers shared.
“I will take you outside for some air,” she told her son. She unlocked the door leading to the balcony then took a blanket from the bed and wrapped him in it and carried him outside. It was a balmy spring night perfumed by the herbs in the garden below. Arwen wrinkled her nose at the pungent scent of wild garlic amongst the sweeter fragrances.
Her son in her arms, she settled herself on a chair and looked upwards at the heavens. She took a deep breath as she drank in the beauty of the stars, which never failed to comfort her. She recalled the long years that she and Estel had been apart. She had often looked at the heavens, knowing he too was beneath those same stars, carrying her memory in his heart.
Eldarion seemed less fretful out of doors and nuzzled against her. He followed her gaze and looked upwards, his eyes coming to rest upon the brightest star in the heavens. “Why is that star brighter than the others?” he asked his mother. “Is it our special star?”
Arwen smiled at her son. “That is indeed no ordinary star,” she said. “It is the Star of Hope, the ship in which your great- grandfather sails to give hope to Arda.”
Eldarion looked puzzled. “How did he get up there?”
Arwen rocked him gently in her arms. “Long ago before I was born, when many bad things were happening in Middle-earth, Eärendil decided to sail to Valinor and ask for help. He had a beautiful jewel called a Silmaril, which he wore on his brow to light his way.”
“Like ada wears the Star of Elendil?”
“Just like that.”
“Is Valinor where my grandfather and grandmother have gone to live?”
“Yes, ion nîn.” Arwen was silent for a moment. She blinked away a tear. “Eärendil reached Valinor and accomplished his mission, so the people of Middle-earth were saved. Now he sails across the sky every night, with the fair jewel he wears giving hope to all men as it shines in the darkness. Before your ada and I were wed, we were often apart, but we would look up at the star and think about each other and hope that one day our wish would come true that we would be married and have a little boy just like you!”
“Just like me?” Eldarion sneezed again. “Even when I sneeze?”
“Even when you sneeze, for all little boys get colds sometimes, your ada tells me.”
“Does Great -Grandfather get colds?” Eldarion asked.
“No,” said Arwen.
“He is lucky.” Eldarion sighed, then lapsed into silence.
After a few moments, Arwen realised that her son had finally fallen asleep. She continued gently rocking him in her arms. How fair his face looked in the starlight and so like his father!” She looked up at the stars and wondered if Eärendil could see this latest scion of his house.
A soft footfall behind her caused her to turn her head. Aragorn came to stand beside her. “How is he?” the King asked softly.
“A little better, I think,” said Arwen. “He was too hot so I brought him outside where he settled and fell asleep.”
Aragorn laid a gentle hand on his son’s brow. “The fever has lessened,” he said.
“Varda be praised!” Arwen gave a great sigh of relief.
Aragorn placed his arm tenderly around her shoulders. “The stars seem to shine especially brightly tonight,” he said.
“Varda gives extra light for the spring planting.”
“Once Eldarion is better, we should spend a few days with Faramir and Éowyn in Ithilien,” Aragorn suggested. “It would gladden my heart to walk in their gardens beneath the stars with you.”
“It would gladden my heart too,” said Arwen. “Maybe Éowyn’s herb garden would smell sweeter too. Do we have to grow wild garlic?”
Aragorn chuckled softly. “The Dúnedain wise women swear the best way to cure a cold is to walk in the woods where the wild garlic grows! It certainly seems to have helped our son.”
Arwen wrinkled her nose again. “Maybe,” she conceded. “More likely it was your medicine, though.”
“Garlic was one of the ingredients.”
The royal couple lapsed into silence as they gazed again at the stars which twinkled against a midnight blue sky.
“I look at the stars and think just how small I am compared to their vastness,” Aragorn mused.
“Some men shine as brightly as any star,” said Arwen. “You shine in my heart brighter even than the Star of Eärendil!”
“Thus speaks the Evenstar named for her beauty, which surpasses even the glories of the heavens!”
Arwen laughed, but her eyes shone with tenderness.
“It grows chill,” said Aragorn a little while later. “We should take Eldarion indoors. You should get some rest, vanimelda.”
“Very well, but leave the curtain open and let the starlight in.”
He gently scooped up his son in his arms and carried him indoors. Eldarion did not waken as he was tucked into his parent’s bed and they climbed in on either side of him.
Soon all three were lost in peaceful dreams as the stars looked down upon them.