Disclaimer- I don't own LOTR
Why is it always anonymous people who say the stupid things? *sigh* I'll address thjis to everyone, I suppose. I am aware that Elrond married Celebrian and they have Arwen and the twins. IN the context of this story, his marriage to her is borner out of the recent loss of his closest companion, a strong sense of loneliness, a great affection, if not passionate love, for Celebrian, and the desire for children. Their relationship was a good, if never wild, one. so there.
Enjoy! :)
"Another one has fallen ill, my lord."
Elrond ignored this and concentrated, heedless of the beat of sweat the dripped off his nose. He was administering Míriel's first treatment, concentrating all of his skill into drawing out the toxic blood in her body. He was not a pretty sight, sweat running in rivulets down his face and veins threatening to pop out on his forehead. He slowly extracted the next piece of toxin from Míriel's contaminated bloodstream and collapsed against the wall. His healing was a mixture between medical technique and Elvish skill, leaning on medicine.
That's why this healing was taking such a toll on him; he was using far more of his Elvish heritage than he was used to for Míriel, and he was slightly out of practice. Rarely did he have a need for it at Gil-galad's court. It took all the energy out of him, and after he was done with Míriel's treatment he had to mix poultices for the other six (now seven) humans who had fallen ill. Three of them were Míriel's handmaidens, two of them were maids, and one of them was a member of the King's own guard.
"Who is it now?" Elrond asked tiredly, fixing his gaze on the guard standing by the door. He was one of the kinder guards, calling Elrond 'my lord' and bowing whenever he approached. He suspected that he was one of Amandil's friends, especially considering the other guards spat his feet or jeered at him as he walked by. Not that he was going much of anywhere, with him and the other quarantined humans shut in Míriel's wing.
"A member of the King's council," replied the guard, frowning deeply.
"Is the King still refusing to be quarantined?" asked Elrond, leaning against the wall as he tried to catch his breath.
The guard let out a noise that could have been a very stifled sigh. "Yes. He claims that his royal blood prevents him being contaminated by mortal diseases."
"Even as his Queen, who shares his pure blood, lies here ill," finished Elrond. "Of course."
He let the guard lead him to the room, only a few feet down the corridor, where he mixed the poultices that would hopefully cure all the new patients. When Elrond looked at them all he saw was another sleepless night. Would this nightmare ever end?
He had only just started on his work when another guard, one Elrond recognized as one of his most frequent spitters, arrived.
"Lord Elrond Half-elven, son of Eärendil, brother to Elros Tar-Minyatur, first High King of Númenor, Herald to Gil-galad, is summoned to the dining hall for a feast."
Elrond kept his mouth from dropping open, but barely. Was the King mad?
"You realize that I have had the most contact with these highly contagious patients more than anyone here? If you bring me into that hall you run the risk of contaminating everyone there."
Elrond though he saw a glimpse of a sharp smile from under his smile when the guard reached out and grabbed Elrond by the arm. Elrond wrenched it away from him and fixed him with his strongest don't-you-dare look, usually reserved for when Ereinion was being bitchy.
"It was a direct order from the King. If this ailment is as deadly as you believe it is, which I highly doubt, then refuse a direct order from the King of Númenor."
"The King of Númenore is not my King," hissed Elrond, standing firm where he was. "I will not answer to his call like a preening girl, throwing aside duty and responsibility for a night that would surely result in my humiliation anyways."
The guard nodded sharply. "So be it. You face the wrath of the King now."
This has gotten really enjoyable to write. Reviews are love! :)