Nin Chronicles: My Greenleaf

Faults

Landion opened his eyes to meet those of Healer Jailil. The elf leaned over him, straightening the twisted blankets. Landion shifted, licking his dry lips. He opened his mouth, realizing how thirsty he was.

"May I have some water?" he asked.

Healer Jailil handed him a glass of the refreshing liquid and waited for him to empty it.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as he took the water glass.

Landion nodded.

"Keep your voice down," Healer Jailil said, nodding with his head toward the bed where Thranduil slept, his eyes, ringed by dark circles, were closed in exhaustion.

Landion nodded again.

"I will be back in a minute," Healer Jailil said as he moved toward the door.

Landion lay back, his hands folded on top of the blankets. His intense misery had faded into a dull feeling within his heart and no longer required his attention. Being in Thranduil and Legolas's presence had helped him as much as he had hoped it would. A brief twinge of sadness tugged at him as he wished he could be closer to Thranduil but then realized he was lucky to have convinced Harune and the reluctant Healer Jailil to bring him here in the first place.

A single tear welled up in his eye as he thought of his mother's death, and all of his confused, self-condemning thoughts came swirling back into his mind. He tried to shove them away, desperation driving him, but the self-blame refused to leave him. A small sob escaped him and he buried his face in his hands, hoping he would not awaken Thranduil with his pathetic, tortured whimpering.

A hand touched his shoulder and Landion jumped with fright.

"What ails you so?" Harune asked, sitting down beside Landion. He slid his hand over the elfling's pale one.

"I-I-I do not know," Landion faltered. "Did I kill naneth? It was my fault! She came looking for me, and she died because of it. I tried to stop her. I really did. I killed her instead . . . I wish I was dead!"

"You must not wish for such things," Harune said sternly. "Celebrail's death was not your fault, Landion. You were used at the cruel whims of a wicked human. You did not kill your mother, Landion, the humans did."

"But if it were not for me, she would never have been captured," Landion said in a small voice.

"You had no control over what happened, Landion. You were trying to protect your own life. Celebrail's death does not lie on your shoulders, but on Lord Katar's."

Landion swallowed. "I wish I could have pounded his face in."

Harune smiled woefully. "We are elves, Landion, and such brutal violence is not our way. A clean death is more then anyone deserves."

Landion lowered his eyes, unable to express his feelings, hurt and chastened by the gentle rebuke at the same time. He wished Healer Jailil would come so he could eat. He fidgeted, feeling Harune's gaze on him. He glanced up and looked away as he met Harune's amused eyes.

Harune sensed the elfling wanted to be left alone so he rose to his feet and walked toward Thranduil's bed, glad to see his son still slept. His eyes rested on Legolas's face, nestled against his father's side, with a small sigh. He looked up as Healer Jailil entered the room with a tray of hot food.

"Your services are not required," the Healer said. "But I was informed you are needed in the office."

"Yes, yes," Harune said absently. "I came to assure myself Thranduil is well."

"If he were to take a turn for the worst, I can assure you, you would be one of the first to know about it," Healer Jailil said, looking at the door dismissively.

Harune took the hint and hurried from the room, back to the office bearing the scent of his son, and the desk covered in undone paperwork.

Landion watched Harune leave before he started to eat from the tray Healer Jailil balanced across his knees. The hot soup slid easily over his throat, and the herb bread was especially filling.

"Are any more of my family coming to see me?" Landion asked.

"They are all busy at the moment," Healer Jailil replied with a queer look.

Landion wondered what would happen to him as he tore off a chunk of bread and dipped in into his soup. Perhaps he would become an orphan if none of his family wanted him. He barely knew any of them. What happened to orphans?

"What will happen to me?" Landion asked in sudden dread.

"That is not for you to worry about," Healer Jailil said briskly. "You concentrate on healing. I promise you will be happy once you leave your bed."

"What happens to orphans?" Landion asked next.

"They find a new family to love them," Healer Jailil replied.

"But what if no one wants to love them?" Landion persisted. "What happens then?"

"In very rare cases, when none of the many elves in Mirkwood can form any connection with the elfling in question, it is the Healers of the castle's responsibility to look after them," Jailil said carefully. "They become wards of the castle. In some cases they train with the guards, or learn any of the other skills they are interested in."

Landion chewed on the last of his bread, thinking that was probably what would happen to him. "Is it nice to be a ward of the castle?"

"It is nicer to find a new family," Healer Jailil answered.

"Why? Do wards get punished?"

"Landion, I am sure you will not become a ward of the castle," Healer Jailil said in exasperation, though in the back of his mind he dreaded it might come to pass. "You are much to sweet to be ignored by the vast population of Mirkwood."

Landion's sad eyes met Healer Jailil's without any confidence. Healer Jailil picked up the empty tray and left the room, cursing the day any elfling had to lose everyone they held dear and be left with nothing. Why were the valar so cruel?

Landion closed his eyes and slept. He dreamed of being abandoned and forgotten by everyone, even the Healers. He dreamed of living alone, dying slowly without the love or comfort of anyone. He dreamed of a long, unhappy life, riddled with misery. He dreamed of being nothing. In one swipe, his happy life had been torn apart, leaving him drifting in darkness, his life in shreds unsure of being mended. He awoke with a jerk, bolting upright.

Sweat ran down his brow, but a cool hand was wiping it away. His wild eyes beheld the room as it whirled in circles. The dim light of a single candle flickered eerily. His gasping breaths calmed down as the room stopped spinning. He reeled dizzily and fell back into the pillows. Only then did he see Harune.

"W-what are you doing here?" he stammered, feeling his stomach lurch with sickness.

"I came to check on Thranduil and Legolas," Harune explained. "But you needed me more."

Landion let out a small moan and closed his eyes, hoping to conqueror the sick feeling in his stomach. He felt cold glass touch his lips, followed by the gentle touch of liquid. Harune slid an arm under his shoulders and helped him drink. He gulped the water, instantly feeling much better.

"Thank you," he said awkwardly.

Harune looked at the elfling anxiously, still holding the empty glass as he let Landion slide back into bed. He noticed the sickly color was beginning to fade from his face and he breathed more evenly. For a minute, it had looked like Landion was about to faint.

"You are more then welcome," Harune said, forcing the worried ceases out of his brow.

Landion's smile faltered. "Will you stay with me?" He asked meekly. "I-I does not—do not want to sleep alone."

"I think that is a good idea," Harune agreed, lifting a corner of the blanket and slipping into bed. He had been afraid to leave Landion, fearing the elfling might become sick and need help. Landion cuddled up to him, his breath warming Harune's chest. Harune put an arm around the boy and held him close, feeling as though Landion needed to know he was with someone he could trust.