Eliriael bent down to pull some of the saffron flowers from her basket and arrange them neatly into the vase. She smiled, caressing the petals with a gentle touch before pouring some fresh water, taken from the streams, in with the flowers. She turned her head to look at the bed once again where Lord Tindir lay and noted the peaceful rise and fall of the bedding as he breathed. Content with his well-being, she returned to finish settling the flowers in and inhaled their scent deeply before rising to stand. In this way, she filled the other vases scattered in various corners of the room.
Eliriael turned to look towards the doors as they clicked and began to slide open. Two of Lord Elrond's healers entered with fresh linen cloths and pitchers of water. They smiled and bowed their heads in acknowledgment, and Eliriael returned the greeting. At first, they had insisted that she leave while they tended to Lord Tindir, but when they found her waiting outside the room each time and desiring to learn from them, they let her stay as she wished. Over the past couple days, they had grown used to Eliriael's constant presence in the room and became fond of her whimsical behaviors.
"The air always smells of fresh cut flowers here," one of the elves spoke softly, almost chuckling. She placed the new linens beside the bed and took up the old ones.
The two healers always smiled upon entering; they found Eliriael's fondness of flowers a bit childlike. They covered almost every flat surface and hung from the furnishings, as if eager to contribute. Still, there was a genuine tone to their admiration. "If only every patient had their rooms filled this way. So bountiful in sight but not overpowering in scent...light and refreshing. The flowers have a healing power of their own," Salabdur remarked.
"Such are the blossoms I have found in Imladris," Eliriael responded. "There are many in my basket if you would like to take them to other rooms."
Salabdur smiled. "Would you? You seem to have a way of arranging them..." he trailed off, looking around the room with an expression of amusement.
Eliriael nodded. "I would be pleased to do so."
They bowed again and the healers left, whispering and laughing softly between themselves.
Elriiael approached the bedside where a new pitcher of water was left. She poured some, filling the bowl beside it, then scattered three flower petals onto the water's surface. As the ripples grew out from the petals and faded, she swirled the water gently, allowing the scent to circulate. She placed it as close to the bed where Lord Tindir's head lay upon the pillow and sat down in the red chair some paces away.
She sighed looking at Lord Tindir's restful features. "The Hammer lords seek revenge on your behalf...and the other soldiers of the Hammer and Fountain...," she whispered to the sleeping ellon. Her memories of the Hammerites vowing with rage burning in their eyes inside the Hall of Fire flooded her mind as of late. Eliriael looked back towards Lord Tindir, "Would you deem it wise?" She worried that their anger was yet too unruly and untamed with wisdom to take action upon.
As she thought, her eyes fell to the ground and she glanced at her basket full of reds, whites, lavenders, and other hues. Remembering that they were picked for more than Lord Tindir, she looked out the window at the sun to measure the passing of the day. It was time to bury the fallen and bless their passing with flowers and song.
