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Ravion
Aeron lifted Gwyllion's body and pressed it to him. He bit his lip. "What do you think?"
Ravion bowed his head. He had heard that voice before. He had used that voice before. When his best friend, Dalros, had died in battle, he had used that voice. It was empty and broken, reflecting a soul that was suddenly missing a piece. Ravion knew that it would be long before Gwyllion's place in Aeron's heart healed.
"We'll have to bury her," Ravion said softly. Aeron just knelt there and trembled with grief. Ravion did not say another word, did not touch him...it would only bring worse pain. He stood up and backed a few steps away. Aeron needed his room.
A man--Liornung? yes, that was it--came up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Sir Ravion, I have not great talents in healing, such as you and the Elves, for I am a simple fiddler, yet a lone traveller in lands both tame and wild must learn some skills of healing, to care for himself and others in need. My skills I offer are not much, but if you are in need of any humble and small assistance, I sit by the golden-haired maid."
Ravion nodded his thanks, and smiled weakly. If only his skill were as great as Liornung seemed to give him credit for. Perhaps he could have helped Gwyllion...helped Ędegard more...helped the girl with the missing ear...helped Mellonin. Oh, perhaps he could have helped Mellonin more. His eyes filled with tears again. Mellonin.
He walked over to her. "Mellonin...how do you fare? Your cut is deep. Let me see to it. Are you in much pain?"
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