The valley was a sight to see after weeks of sleeping on the ground with some of her elvish friends. She was worn, tired and aching from the last fight with the men they were hunting. Her older horse, Coriander, was eager to bring them both to safety. The faithful steed knew his master was in pain and the valley was a place for both of them to rest.
The Ranger’s pack was smaller from using all of her spears in the fight. It had reminded her of the time she was with her kin, raiding Ost Alagos. The fight was another failure and their party was forced to split up. The elves, Ealendil and Eadirin, fought with her to escape the ruins. Ethuilir caught up with them for a moment, but she did not see the merry elf at the camp after.
It was a fight with injuries though. Estenthel’s shield-arm, at least she thought, was broken during a fight with one of the larger men with a hard-hitting weapon. Now her left arm was in a splint and tied to her side to help keep it from bouncing around as she rode to Imladris. She wanted to stay and help the company of elves, but seeing Meduion and Cardhuin was more important.
Coriander made his way down, carrying his oldest friend. The horse understood her, and she of him. Estenthel had found him when he was a young horse feeding in her herb garden in the lands around Evendim Lake. She brought him back to health. Now he was doing the same.
One of the stablemasters helped the injured ranger down. She did not want it, but her arm was sore from the ride. Plus, she couldn't take the saddle off of her horse. How she managed to walk herself home, she'd never know, but the door was soon before her. She turned down going straight to the healer. Meduion knew enough from his time living with elves to take care of her injuries.
Estenthel opened the door to their small space. Realizing that no one was home, she began taking off the worn clothing she was wearing. Her sword and belt was quickly left to fall to the floor. Footsteps soon entered. They were a bit heavy for one of their elvish hosts. Softer footsteps followed but the cheerful sounds of a child's shouting filled her ears.
"Mama!" Cardhuin ran in first, bumping into her. She cringed from the pain, but nonetheless hugged her son back.
Meduion stood, shaking his head, "There you are; giving me work to do. What happened this time?"
She looked up at him returning his smirk with one of her own, "I can ask someone else."
He walked in closer, picking her blade from the floor. The scholar made sure to place it somewhere better before kneeling before her, "No, it would be my pleasure, my Lady."
The boy moved so his father could embrace his mother. The worn Ranger was always reminded as to why her work was needed to be done. A certain poem was never far from her thoughts either.
