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English
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Published:
2014-03-29
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1/1
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Elves Don't Get Sick

Summary:

Little Arwen insists she's come down with something terrible. Celebrían is not convinced.

Work Text:

Celebrían would be less sceptical of Arwen being “sick” if it hadn’t come a few days after the little girl had been overflowing with questions about healing, and diseases, particularly among the edain.

  ‘But I’m Peredhel, so I think I can get diseases,’ she said, eyes huge.

  ‘No you can’t,’ said Celebrían, firmly.

  Elrond however, had listened to all of Arwen’s symptoms – ranging from “I coughed a few minutes ago” to “and I think this fingernail is a bit wobbly” – with complete seriousness, nodding as she spoke and inspecting the finger minutely.

  ‘Elrond…’ said Celebrían.

  ‘Well, I’m sure it’s nothing serious,’ he told his daughter. ‘Just a winter cold. However – just to be on the safe side, I think we’ll have to make sure you stay warm, and rest. I’d better prescribe some warm drinks, and a blanket.’

  ‘Elrond,’ Celebrían whispered, when they were out of earshot. ‘You know as well as I do that there’s nothing wrong with her.’

  ‘Nothing life endangering, I’m sure.’

  ‘Nothing at all!’

  ‘I think she does have a cold, in fact. It’s not unheard of, and it’s the first time she’s had one. No harm in treating it.’

  ‘There will be when she decides she has a cold every week!’

  ‘She’s learning about healing first-hand. We can talk about symptoms, and remedies, I think it’ll be educational for her. Also, it will show her that there’s nothing to be worried about, in terms of getting sick.’

  ‘I…’ Celebrían trailed off, shaking her head. ‘You’re as bad as her. Fine. Play your game, but when she’s “dying of plague” next week, it’s all your job to get her out of bed.’

  ‘Alright,’ Elrond agreed. Celebrían snorted, which annoyingly seemed to amuse him more.

*****

  Later that day, Celebrían had almost forgotten that Arwen was supposed to be sick. At lunch, when the kitchen said Lord Elrond would be eating in his quarters that day, she assumed he was buried in paperwork in the office – this was usually the case if he didn’t eat with her. And quite often, she took the tray to him, so that she could check he wasn’t working too hard. And sometimes distract him enormously, depending on how bored he looked.

  She did notice there seemed to be more food than usual, as she shouldered her way into the rooms…unusually, she could hear his voice, and he wasn’t in the study.

  Then Arwen’s giggle.

  Is he still…right. Celebrían set the tray down, and listened for where the voices were coming from. The sitting room on the right – there was a warm glow of firelight.

  ‘…what if I broke my nose?’ Arwen was saying.

  ‘I don’t think we need to practice that, it’s very unlikely-’

‘Yes! Nose!’

  ‘Alright, well I’d put a bandage around here, a bit like this…I’d try not to cover your eyes up…this is a very serious matter, Arwen, would you laugh if you’d broken your nose? I don’t think so…’

  Celebrían reached the door, and peered in. Arwen was wrapped in a blanket on her father’s lap, in helpless laughter as he tried to tie a scarf around her face.

  ‘What if you broke your nose?’

  ‘My nose is extremely strong, I don’t think it can be br…fine, alright,’ he sighed as she reached up and stuffed the scarf in his face.

  ‘Feeling better?’ said Celebrían, dryly from the doorway.

  Arwen dropped the scarf. ‘No,’ she said, eyes wide. ‘My head still really hurts, and I think I’m going to be sick, and my face is very pale. And I’m not answering very clearly. I think I’m in shock.’

  ‘You…none of that is true!!’

  ‘You remembered lots of symptoms though, well done,’ said Elrond. ‘I only mentioned shock once – you could be an excellent healer, Arwen.’

  ‘If you aren’t too desperately sick,’ said Celebrían.

  ‘Your mother is a good healer too, you know,’ Elrond told Arwen. ‘She always makes me feel better. Even if I’m just feeling sad, and not sick.’

  ‘Why are you sad?’ Arwen asked, immediately.

  ‘I’m not. Not when you, and you brothers and your mother are around.’

  Arwen shuffled further onto Elrond’s lap, and he adjusted the blanket around her shoulders. He moved a large book – Celebrían caught sight of some diagrams of bodies, and script that looked to be Adûnaic – and set it very carefully on the table. Then he patted the space beside him, looking up at her.

  Celebrían brought the tray, and sat down, feeling Elrond’s arm curl around her waist.

  ‘You two are being ridiculous,’ she told them.

  ‘I know how to make a poultice that I’m not allowed to make,’ Arwen informed her mother. ‘Because it involves very strong liquor, which washes out all the things from a wound that can lead to sickness. So I’m not allowed to make it, but I know how.’

  Celebrían shot Elrond a look. He wasn’t looking back, he was adjusting Arwen’s blanket carefully…it was his mix of love and pride that made Celebrían realise the main thing that was annoying her.

  ‘If I woke up tomorrow and claimed I had a splitting headache when I obviously didn’t – would you abandon all your other duties to look after me?’ she asked.

  Elrond looked up, slightly confused. ‘Of course I would.’

  It was the way he responded so simply – she believed him. And her annoyance was gone. He stroked her shoulder, and went on. ‘I’d bring you whatever you needed, and if you wanted me to just sit with you, I’d stay. Or I could sing, or talk to you, or a neck massage sometimes helps with headaches…I did all this last time you had a headache, of course I’d do it again.’

  ‘But what if I obviously didn’t?’

  ‘If you told me you did, I’d believe you. Or at least…I’d believe you had a very good reason for telling me you did, so I’d act as though it were true.’

  Is wanting a morning lying in bed with my husband a good reason? Celebrían wondered. It sounded pretty good to her.

  ‘Why, do you think you feel a headache coming on?’ Elrond asked, laying a gentle hand on her forehead, with all appearance of concern – except she could tell he was trying not to smile.

  ‘I can make medicine!’ said Arwen, eagerly.

  ‘Well…’ the blankets, the fire, her family…Elladan and Elrohir would probably express their concern as well (although then she’d feel terrible if she wasn’t actually sick)…it was still tempting… ‘for the moment I’m fine. But I’ll let you know. Headaches can strike me very suddenly.’

  Elrond kissed her head where he’d been stroking it, as Arwen declared, ‘I can still make medicine. Just in case.’

  ‘Thank you, Meleth. Would you like something to eat?’

  ‘Yes please!’

  ‘Let’s see…ahhhh chicken soup. Perfect for someone who’s not well,’ said Celebrían, lifting the cover off the bowls.

  ‘I like chicken soup,’ said Arwen, cheerfully.

  Celebrian gave up. Arwen could be “sick” if she wanted, as long as it really was Elrond’s job to deal with it next time she wanted to play this game. ‘So do I. Here you are – one bowl of incredible healing chicken soup.’

  The incredible healing chicken soup worked so well, that by the end of the afternoon, Arwen had set up an entire apothecary in her bedroom, and was handing out medicine to dolls, statues, and random bypassers such as Glorfindel.

  Much as Celebrían would enjoy spending half a day wrapped in a blanket with Elrond holding her, she decided she’d better save it until Arwen’s new physician phase had passed.