She finds an appropriate soft surface and lies down on it.

And he starts singing something unfamiliar, slow and deep and melodious, that seems to make the world around her move very sluggishly.

It's so...beauti...zzzzzzz.

He's briefly jealous. But there's a lot more work to do.

And in a few days, she wakes up, feeling much better. There are still a handful of tingling aches in her extremities, but those are easily overlooked. She gets up to go find something to do.

"It's good to know we have that as an option of last resort," he says, "I hate to see you in such intense pain for our sakes. The siege is still ongoing; it will probably last all winter. Men tend to be disconcerted by that."

"It's annoying. I hadn't gotten nearly as much done as I wanted to before we had to turn back."

"It sufficed."

"Certainly better than nothing. What can I do to help, right now, I have no intention of pushing myself as hard as I did--not yesterday, but during the battle and the aftermath, but I'm certainly recovered well enough to do normal levels of things."

"You can supervise our practice and help us notice if we're doing anything wrong. You can also kill orcs if you'd really like but I'm not sure that's worthwhile."

"I'll happily take your word for that. I'll help you work on your own magic."

And he sits down and provides a summary of how they've spent the days, what he's doing, what he's tried but can't do yet.

She nods along, and comments that this or that thing could have been done better or with less pain or at all if he had done it in thus-and-such a manner instead.

He takes this very seriously, and practices a while longer. "I communicated to the leadership in eastern Beleriand, where your sister is, that you are well and safe, and they communicated that she is, as well, though I got a sense she's less 'safely behind castle walls' and more 'safely fighting literally everything'."

"Doesn't surprise me a bit."

"I can let them know you're up and about, if you'd like."

"Sure, why not. She had better check in when she hears it, I don't really blame her for having better uses of her attention during the battle itself but I could stand to hear from her more often."

"I imagine she was deterred from reaching out sooner only because you were in a coma," he says, "based on my sample of sisters, but I admit I don't know yours."

"That's almost certainly it. Possibly that and not having gotten used to osanwe yet."

"I'll let her know she should reach out."

"Thanks."

Our magic mortal is up and would like to speak to yours, he tells Maedhros as he heads up the stairs, at her convenience.

I think Odette is going to pay you a visit, he says, to talk about how she can be least politically disruptive while resurrecting people.

You didn't, he says.

Maedhros sends the impression of an innocent smile. I actually have not done anything at all except, I suppose, motivated her in an intense dislike of the Enemy. 

"...Um?"

"Your sister may be visiting."

"Oh, that's good. But you, um, looked briefly horrified."