|
Ledwyn stood aside as the lords and the Elf exchanged greetings. She considered approaching Lord Athanar at that moment, since he still did not know about her presence in the Hall and her intention to stay there. Really, she did not have his leave to be there at all. But instead of coming forth she shied away from the lords, intimidated by their stature and distinction, and by the time she composed and prepared herself the moment had passed. She did not want to disrupt their conversation. She would have to speak to Lord Athanar later.
With these thoughts in her mind, she turned to Theolain with the intention of bandaging up his hand, judging that it had sat in the water for enough time. She started wrapping the clean linen around the wrist and over the thumb, covering the palm of Theolain's hand in an adept fashion, thanking in her thoughts the two boys that brought her the cloth. The burn was faring well; it barely needed bandaging...
Ledwyn's head turned sharply towards the Elf. Her lips moved, tracing silent words, and her eyes widened. Then, as abruptly as she stopped wrapping the linen, she started undoing it, much to Theolain's chargin. He could not wait for Mother to stop fussing over him so that he could go exploring.
Ledwyn held her breath as she undid the last loop. There it was, before her sight. Or were her eyes playing tricks on her? She brushed a finger against the smooth pale skil of her son's palm. He did not flinch at her touch. She did not see or feel any sign of a burn. It had to be real. But it could not be. It could not be.
Ledwyn looked again in the direction of the Elf. Engrossed in a conversation, he did not seem to notice her disturbed and frightened gaze. She could not puzzle out how else Theolain's hand could heal so quickly. Mere minutes ago it was red, and rough to the touch, and it looked as though blisters were about to form. Now it was as if the whole incident did not happen. This could not be.
In an attempt to overcome the confusion and disarray of her thoughts and trying not to panic, Ledwyn started wrapping the linen cloth around Theolain's hand again. The tyke was longing to go play somewhere out of her sight and control, ostensibly unaware of his mother's dread and anxiety. And to completely disappoint him, she did not let him run off but led him to the kitchen. The wenches all gave their sympathies and inquired about the burn. Ledwyn made short offhand replies, unconscious of what she was saying. Despite her best efforts to look cheerful and unconcerned, she had the feeling none in the room was truly convinced. She tried to busy herself with washing some dirty dishes, and the women, taking the hint, did not question her further, though she could almost feel the question still hanging in the air. Ledwyn prayed that she would not be pressed to answer, for, indeed, she herlsef did not fully know how to explain her story.
|