[Bêthberry]

Bethberry's sleepy eyes took in Holly's sketches and she was immediately sleepy no more. The hobbit had great skill in chiaroscuro and it was a delight to feast the eyes on the drawings. Bethberry found herself hoping she could keep at least one of the them herself, as a reminder of how beauty can arise out of even the most unfortunate events.

Looking at Birdie, however, was worrisome. Under her eyelids, her eyes darted around rapidly and wildly. Bethberry became worried that two drops of belladonna had been too much for the Changling and were causing her nightmares.

She took some water from the kettle she had just brought from the kitchen and made a new wash for Birdie's forehead and eye, this time with clary, sometimes called 'clear eye', and more wollygrass. The movement woke Birdie, but without a start, and she then lay back calmly while Bethberry applied a poultice of beardtongue to the swellings.

Bethberry pulled a chair up beside the bed and took Birdie's hand in hers. It was firm and warm but not sweating. That was good. It looked for all the world just like Bethberry's hand, or Naaramare' hand. There was no sign of a hard carapace or any spicules from the insect body. Bethberry sat staring in awe at this hand with such amazing potential, the most astounding form of life she had ever seen. Life in all its glorious and magnificent wonder.

Why was it, Bethberry asked aloud to no one in particular, that when, with such splendor in the animate world, there was increasingly such great stress and duress upon it?

Bethberry's voice disturbed Birdie, who moaned slightly, and Bethberry immediately regreted musing aloud. They would have to come up with some explanation of Birdie's injuries for the elves and Gandalf. She would leave that to the two friends. Bethberry then began singing quietly the song she had heard last night from Meneldi and Estalarion. This time, her voice did not disturb the Changling.