Starting Anew

Remember How to Live

OoOoO

Following Andris through the path that had been dug out through the snowdrifts, all that Legolas could see was white all around and the back of the young Dunedain in front. He considered stopping at the herbalist Kailin's home on the way, but discarded the idea. According to Andris his grandmother was already being given the usual herbs for winter sickness to little avail. Anything beyond that Kailin would need to administer herself, and it was unlikely they would be able to get the aging woman out and about in this kind of cold.

Resigned to do whatever he could for Andris's ailing grandmother, the prince of the Greenwood stepped inside the small thatch home and out of the Fornost winter. The air was close and somewhat dim inside, probably because snow had drifted up against the shuttered windows and rendered them impossible to open. Small wonder sickness was traveling quickly within the village. Not for the first time that day Legolas thanked the Valar for elvish immunity to mortal illnesses.

The house was small, but cozy enough. Clearly women lived here. Sure enough, a short figure wrapped in a shawl straightened up from beside where she had been tending the ailing elder on the bed. The resemblance between the woman and Andris was strong enough to suggest this was the young ranger's mother.

"Strider is ill as well Mother, and cannot come." Andris said, putting down his fur-lined hood and stamping his boots. "Legolas said he would help Grandmother though."

The woman studied Legolas, looking him up and down. Even in the low light from the hearth and the candles set about the room, Legolas could see that she had once been a beauty. Laugh lines surrounded her eyes, eyes that were now rather tired and sad looking. Her brown hair shot with streaks of grey was escaping from the bun where it had been tied back, and she brushed them back carelessly.

"Very well. Thank you Master Legolas for coming." She turned and shook her head slowly over the figure who lay upon the bed. "I have tried herbs, compresses, salves, everything. Grandmother has only worsened since she first took ill though I'm afraid."

A fragile sounding cough rose from within the bundles of furs and blankets. "Hush Delia. You will make yourself ill from worry..." The voice was papery thin and rustled like dried leaves, but still undeniably steady.

Andris took Legolas by the wrist and brought him closer to the sick woman. "Grandmother, this is Legolas. You remember, he came across the mountains some weeks ago?" The young man spoke gently, as though to a spooked fawn.

"Of course I remember child." A coughing spell delayed the old woman's next words. "My breath may be spent but my eyes are not. I saw that head of gold through the trees before ever you entered our village, good elf."

Delia moved back to make way for the prince, and Legolas cautiously sat down in a chair next to the bed. This close up, he could see Grandmother's face in detail. He had never before met a human with so many wrinkles, or with hair so pure white. This woman was very old by mortal reckoning, very old indeed.

Her surprisingly clear blue eyes focusing on Andris, Grandmother make a sound in the back of her throat. "Could you brew me some tea, my boy? This cough does make the throat ever so dry."

Nodding, Andris stepped away from where he had been hovering over Legolas's shoulder, joining his mother at the hearth. Feeling that he ought to be doing something useful, Legolas reached out a slender white hand for the bony one that lay upon the furs.

"May I?" he asked. Even though he was easily seven times this woman's age, something about the depth of her eyes made him feel that deference as though to an elder was appropriate.