A scene of confusion met her eyes as Uilossiel opened the door to the healing room, piles of fresh bandages in her arms. A mangled body lay upon the bed, which she assumed to be Lord Estarfin, and Lady Danel sat very still in the corner of the room, attended by Elvealin. Eliriael and Laurelindo were already hovering over the patient on the bed, while various other lords of Vanimar spoke in hushed tones nearby. She caught a glimpse of Dolthafaer standing in a corner conversing with Lord Anglachelm, but quickly looked away. Biting her lip in concentration, she hurried to the bedside, where Laurelindo was bending over to pull a cruel-looking arrow from Estarfin's chest. The wound began bleeding profusely, and it was all she could do to press bandages to it and attempt to stop the flow of blood.
It was all so horribly, shockingly real - the blood on her hands, Estarfin's laboured breathing, and the whispered conference of the healers buzzing around him. Not all the books in Arda on the subject of healing could have prepared her for this, she thought with a grimace. She was kneeling on the bed pressing bandages to Estarfin's chest, hands covered to the wrist in blood, when she dimly registered Lord Anglachelm beckoning Dolthafaer to his side.
He told Dolthafaer to kneel, motioning for him to present his sword. Uilossiel was only half aware that Anglachelm seemed to be saying something important to Dolthafaer. Estarfin's low moans of pain, and the dampness seeping into each new set of bandages she pressed to his chest were all she could think of in that moment. Suddenly Estarfin began coughing piteously, and Laurelindo said in alarm,
"Help him up, quickly, before he chokes." Eliriael propped a pillow underneath his back and eased him into a sitting position. By now the bleeding from his chest had lessened, and Eliriael motioned for Uilossiel to fetch a numbing draught from the shelf in the corner. Carefully, Uilossiel uncorked the bottle and poured some of it gently into Estarfin's mouth. Hands shaking, she arose to replace the bottle on the shelf when Anglachelm's voice caught her ear.
"... rise a lord, my lord," he said to Dolthafaer. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the bewilderment on Dolthafaer's face as Anglachelm touched his head gently with the flat of his sword.
"I.. am honoured, my lord, I..." He said no more, but sheathed his sword and bowed deeply to Lord Anglachelm. The rest of the conversation faded into the background, but Uilossiel found her hands shaking even more as she considered Anglachelm's actions. She was not sure what to think - so Dolthafaer had been promoted from Captain to Lord , and the Arrow elevated from a company into an Order of Vanimar?
At that moment Laurelindo gestured for her to help him ready the wound for stitching, and Uilossiel blanched, all thoughts of Dolthafaer forgotten. When he asked her if she could close the wound, she shook her head in desperation. In her recent studies with her sister she had only gone so far as herb-lore and the cleaning of minor wounds. She watched timidly as Laurelindo worked over the wound with needle and thread, steeling herself against the shock that threatened to overwhelm her.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of bandaging, cleaning, disinfecting, and binding wounds. Estarfin had sustained grievous injuries, and it was a miracle he was still breathing by the time the Arrows had carried him into the Valley, according to Laurelindo. Uilossiel watched him and Eliriael work quietly and efficiently, feeling rather useless in comparison. She envied Eliriael her cool, composed demeanour, and Elvealin her cheerful aura that lit up the room and brought peace to the patients within. It was unnerving tending to a patient so close to the edge of death, and with the reek of blood hanging around the room. Uilossiel attempted to make herself as useful as possible fetching bandages, cleaning wounds, and administering salves. Estarfin's left hand was badly broken, possibly beyond repair, and deep gashes scored his shoulder and leg. The hand and one leg had to be set for broken bones, and all the wounds cleaned and bandaged. The onlookers trickled out of the room, and she was grateful for the silence that fell in the healing house as they laboured on to preserve Estarfin's life.
Lady Danel sat stoically in a chair, and Uilossiel was tasked with cleaning the deep claw-wounds on her shoulders. She was in much better condition than Estarfin, having only taken injuries to the head and shoulders, but her sight was gone for now, and no one knew if it would return in time. Day had turned into dusk when Estarfin was finally sleeping peacefully upon a newly-made bed, and Laurelindo pronounced him out of mortal danger. Limiriel had escorted lady Danel home earlier, and the room was now quiet save for the shuffling of the healers' feet and their quiet whispers. Finally, Laurelindo took his post beside Estarfin's bed and waved Uilossiel off for the night. She nodded gratefully at him, for without his expertise she was doubtful if Estarfin would be alive at all.
Stepping out into the chill evening, Uilossiel drew a shuddering breath. The hem and sleeves of her robe were spattered with blood, and her hands were stained with it as well, despite frequently washing them throughout the day. Numbly, she drew her cloak around her shoulders and stumbled home.
