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Mirkwood's Plague

Thanks to my one lonesome reviewer. Enjoy this one too.

Chapter 2 – Surprising Arrival

King Thranduil wandered idly into Legolas' chambers, already knowing that his son wouldn't be there. It was seven in the morning and undoubtedly his son would already be out on the practice fields, firing arrows at his well-worn target. Thranduil knew all too well that Legolas would never be completely satisfied living a comfortable, safe, life in Mirkwood. No matter what he said to make Thranduil feel better about the situation, the King knew that his son still longed for adventure. He was just as his mother had been: far too adventurous for his own good. The young prince even looked like the long-dead queen.

Sometimes, Thranduil could hardly bare to look at his youngest son, whenever he did he saw the shadow of his dead wife. And yet at the same time he held a great fondness for his youngest; sometimes it was overwhelmingly confusing for Thranduil, not knowing whether it was good or bad that Legolas was so much like his mother.

Thranduil had felt both his sons drifting further away from him lately. He loved his sons so much; many said too much but they were all he had left of his wife. Thranduil knew that sounded selfish but he didn't care. All he wanted was his sons to be near him but more importantly to be happy and Thranduil got the impression that at that moment neither prince was particularly contented. Rumil was getting more and more restless being restricted to the increasingly safe forests of Mirkwood.

Thranduil hated it that he had to ask so much of his heir but he knew that one day Rumil would be King of the realm and he wanted him to be properly prepared. All the pressure that was being put on his son was for his own good, Thranduil knew that and yet it almost killed him inside when Rumil came back from a long days work at his office completely exhausted. That was one of the reasons Thranduil had allowed the prince to go out on this simple scouting mission with the guards. It was a chance for him to escape the confines of the realm even if only for a while.

The King smiled at the thought of his eldest and left in search of Legolas, not that much of a search was required. Legolas rarely strayed from the borders of Mirkwood and even then he never went far and not without a convoy fit for the second in line to the throne. Ever since his return from fighting in the Great War and the destruction of the Ring of Power four years ago Legolas had changed, he had lost some of his adventurous spirit, become quieter, more withdrawn. The bright glint in his shocking blue eyes had faded slightly, as if he had left a part of himself behind somewhere during the great journey with the Ring-bearer. Sometimes Thranduil was regretful that he ever sent his son on that mission, to see him return in such low spirits hurt the King more than he would ever mention to his son.

Thranduil headed towards the practice fields where he knew his son would be practicing archery. That was Legolas' one true love, the only thing he fully committed himself to anymore. He had no love interest and no real friends, apart from the seven other surviving members of the Fellowship and a few select members of Rivendell's residents. Thranduil found his son, as he suspected, firing arrows in the practice field with an excitable group of young Elflings watching him with rapt fascination at the amazing display of strength and accuracy from their prince. They cheered each time Legolas hit the centre, which was every time he fired.

Legolas was concentrating so hard on what he was doing that he hardly noticed the Elflings cheering enthusiastically in the background. In fact, this was something that occurred quite often. Legolas' shooting had become almost legendary amongst the people of Mirkwood, especially since his return from the Quest, and quite often he would draw large audiences by the time he had finished his practice and each time he would turn around and notice them with a completely shocked look on his handsome face.

Thranduil smiled when his son finally turned to face his young audience. His smile grew brighter when he saw his father also watching him. The King walked over to him and stood behind him, making sure he wasn't in between his son and his target.

"Soon you will be so good that you won't need to get up at the crack of dawn and practice for hours out here," Thranduil said, teasing his son as he always did.

Legolas smiled brightly at his father. "That will never happen." He spun suddenly and fired another arrow at the target, hitting dead centre again. Another cheer sounded from the crowd of Elflings.

"It would certainly disappoint a lot of your fans," Thranduil laughed, gesturing behind him. Legolas turned to look at them again and mockingly bowed with a bright smile on his face, something Thranduil never got tired of seeing. This excited another cheer from the onlookers. "Come and have breakfast with me. It's been a long time since we have been alone and had a proper talk," Thranduil said, walking towards the Palace, knowing his ever obedient son was following close behind.

A few minutes later they were sat in the dining hall eating their lavish breakfast being provided by the helpful servants that were waiting on their king and prince.

Thranduil turned to his son. "So tell me Legolas, how are you?"

"I'm fine," Legolas answered vaguely, not really paying too much attention to his answer, it had become almost a reflex over the years.

"Good," Thranduil said, knowing his son wasn't telling the truth but deciding to leave it for now, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. He knew how much his proud son hated being fussed over, just like all the Thranduillion family.

"Is Rumil back yet?" Legolas asked, breaking the slightly awkward silence between father and son. "I thought he was meant to return last night," Legolas looked up seriously at his father.

"You know your brother. He has probably found some wild adventure in which to partake; no doubt something dangerous that will cause me endless problems and require an awful lot of explaining at the end. He seems to have a knack for getting into trouble. I will send out riders if he does not return soon. Don't worry too much, Legolas, I'm sure Rumil's fine." Thranduil really wasn't too worried about the whereabouts of his eldest, he had sent a convoy of guards with him under strict instructions to return the Crown Prince safely to Mirkwood and he didn't doubt their ability to protect his son; they were the best people in Mirkwood for the job. Rumil just had a way of getting into trouble. Thranduil laughed to himself when he thought of how his son was probably trying his best to delay the troop from returning to Mirkwood too quickly. He was probably enjoying his first taste of freedom for years. Besides, despite his wild nature, Rumil was fairly sensible.

"Perhaps I could go?" Legolas suggested after a while. He already knew what the answer would be though.

"I'm sure Rumil's fine," Thranduil said sharply, leaving no room for argument. Legolas nodded, knowing there was no point in saying anything else, nothing would sway the King's decision. His words always implied an awful lot more than most realised. They continued to eat in an uneasy silence.

Their quiet breakfast was suddenly interrupted by a servant slamming the door open and running over to where the king was sitting. Thranduil stood up and waited for the servant to formally greet him and catch his breath. Finally losing his patience Thranduil spoke.

"What is it that is so urgent that you had to interrupt our meal?"

"My Lord, Prince Rumil has returned." Legolas shot out of his chair when he heard this. Rumil had always been one for big entrances but he knew something was wrong this time, he could feel it. "He is…sick, my Lord. Only one of the guards in the troop has returned and he is in the same condition as the prince," the servant shuddered nervously in front of the king.

Thranduil just stared blankly at the servant for a moment before shouting, "Where is he? Did you take him to the healers?"

"No, my Lord," the servant answered nervously.

"Why not?" Thranduil shouted, making the already nervous Elf jump.

Legolas saw this and decided to put a stop to it before the poor servant died of fright from coming face to face with the infamous angry look Thranduil used to intimidate his enemies. Legolas himself had been on the receiving end of that look and it was enough to send even the strongest Elf running in the opposite direction.

"Ada," Legolas warned, knowing his father was fast losing his temper. "Why not? Is something else wrong?" Legolas asked, a lot more patiently than his angry father. Thranduil sighed, wishing he possessed his son's patience but still wishing the servant would hurry up and tell him what was wrong with Rumil.

The servant looked nervously towards the king and then back to the less intimidating Legolas. "He carries a young child. A dead child. He refuses to leave her and go to the healers. We did try, my Lord, but he refused and ordered me to fetch the King. I don't think he really knew what he was saying, my Lord."

"What do you mean?" Legolas asked.

"He asked for the King but I don't think he really knew that the King was also his father. He sounded so detached, my Lord."

Thranduil looked at the servant with that glare once more before speaking. "Well, take me to him," he said, trying desperately to keep his voice steady.

The servant nodded and hurried out the door, closely followed by a frightened Thranduil and Legolas.

**

When they entered the room where Rumil was waiting for them they stopped, completely shocked at what they were seeing. Rumil was kneeling by the fireplace slowly rocking backwards and forwards and mumbling to the large bundle in his arms. Rumil himself was shaking violently and was unusually pale although dark red blotches covered his face. He was thinner than Thranduil ever remembered him being and he looked as if he had been weeks without sufficient sleep. His voice was broken and his eyes were filled with pain and glazed with fever, which was also evident on his face. Legolas also took all this in, not quite believing what he was seeing. He looked over to his father to find that he had gone almost as pale as Rumil.

Thranduil finally pulled himself together and walked slowly towards his eldest son. He kept his eyes fixed on Rumil as though he might disappear if he looked away for even a second. He was still trying to make his mind believe what his eyes were seeing.

"Rumil," he said loudly enough to attract the attention of his oldest son who seemed not to notice anyone else in the room. Thranduil tried desperately to keep his voice steady as he spoke. "Rumil, we need to get you and your…charge to the healing halls. Rumil, you're ill. We can help your friend. Why don't you hand her to Legolas, he will take care of her," Thranduil coaxed.

"No," Rumil shouted, gripping the child a little tighter to his chest and shrinking away from the King. It was as if he was irrationally protecting the child from the King and Legolas.

"Rumil, I promise we will take good care of her. We can treat her in the healing halls. She will be safe with your brother," Thranduil said, taking a cautious step closer to his trembling son.

"I have to protect her. I told her I would help her," Rumil said softly, kissing the Elfling's hair and continuing to rock her in his arms, presumably trying to comfort her even though she made absolutely no movement.

"You can. We will treat her and look after her and as soon as you're better you can sit with her and look after her yourself. I think she would really appreciate that," Thranduil said calmly. "Come, allow Legolas to take her now."

"You promise she'll be alright?"

"I promise," Thranduil smiled, looking into his son's glazed blue eyes.

Rumil looked cautiously at his father before reluctantly nodding. He still didn't release the child though. He clung to her like she was something precious to him. Thranduil had never seen his son act like this before and if he was truthful it utterly terrified him.

"Let Legolas take the…"

"Leanna," Rumil interrupted his father. His voice was weak and strained and it looked as though it took a lot of effort to just say that one word.

"…Leanna. I promise she'll be safe," Thranduil smiled.

Once again Rumil nodded but this time he loosened his grip on Leanna slightly. Thranduil turned to Legolas and nodded for him to take the child from his brother. Legolas cautiously stepped forward and knelt before his elder brother. He smiled gently as he lifted the weightless child from Rumil's arms. Rumil winced and looked pleadingly at Legolas who was checking Leanna. When Legolas did look up he got that same awful pleading look again. He turned to his father who gave him a subtle nod of his head. Legolas knew what he had to do.

He smiled at Rumil who still had his eyes fixed on Leanna.

"She's going to be just fine. You got her here just in time," Legolas said, trying to sound sincere. He knew, of course that it was a lie. As soon as they had walked into the room they knew the girl was dead.

"Legolas, take her to the healing rooms where she can be treated." Legolas nodded and began to walk away but Rumil's cracked voice stopped him before he could leave.

"Wait…I want to go with her."

"You can see her again when she wakes up," Thranduil said, looking to Rumil then at Legolas to back him up.

"Yes, you don't want her to see you like this do you? Because no offence brother, but you look terrible," Legolas smiled, he hated doing this.

"No. You're right. Goodbye, Leanna," he called sadly. He looked over at his father and smiled weakly. "Ada…" He fell forward onto his face, crying out and suddenly shaking even more violently than before.

"Rumil," Thranduil shouted as he watched his son fall. He dashed forward to help his eldest. "Go fetch the healers. Now!" Thranduil yelled at one of the servants who was still lingering near the scene.

Legolas couldn't believe what was happening. He had never seen his brother – nor any other Elf for that matter – like that before. Illness was not something that was often seen amongst Elves so this whole thing was a completely new experience for him. He had seen people die violently in battle, even seen people dying from grief but never anything like this. Unfortunately, no one else had seen anything like it before either so they were all just as mystified as each other. This wasn't much help to the young prince at the moment. Right then Legolas could see the terrible fear in Thranduil's normally stone-like eyes.

Suddenly, and much to everyone's surprise, three healers burst into the room, startling everyone. They quickly bowed to their king before running over to Rumil and beginning to work on him. They soon had him on a stretcher and were carrying him towards the healing rooms. Thranduil was right behind them, shouting encouraging nonsense to his son, who was groaning softly in pain as the healers moved him. Thranduil stopped when he came to Legolas who was still holding the lifeless child in his arms.

"She is dead?" he asked flatly, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Yes, and has been for some time. I don't think Rumil knows," Legolas said sadly.

"And he shouldn't, not yet, not until he's well again," Thranduil said firmly.

"He will…Rumil will be alright, won't he Ada?" Again that flicker of fear crossed the king's face.

"Of course he will," Thranduil said but Legolas could tell he really wasn't sure. He had seen that look in the king's eyes before. "You," Thranduil commanded a healer who was just standing there looking a little lost for what to do. "Take the child and make sure the Crown Prince doesn't know she is dead."

The healer nodded and carefully took Leanna from Legolas and silently left the room, forgetting to bow to the king in his haste; not that Thranduil cared or even noticed, all that mattered to him right then was his son.

"What was that? I have never seen anything like it before," Legolas said after a moment's stunned silence as they both let what had happened sink in.

"Nor have I, ion nin. As soon as Rumil wakes we will ask him what happened. He must know something. Until then there is not much we can do."

"Let me take a troop of Elves and search for whatever did this. It should only take a few hours," Legolas said to his father.

"No! You and everyone else are to stay within Mirkwood until we know what this is."

"We won't know what this is until we go and find out," Legolas argued.

"I am sorry, my son, the answer is no."

"But don't you want to know what did this?"

"Not if there is any risk to my family, no."

"Ada…"

"I said no!" Thranduil shouted, leaving a slightly stunned Legolas in silence and a handful of servants looking around nervously, diverting their gaze. "Legolas promise me you will not leave Mirkwood," Thranduil said in a low voice.

"I promise," Legolas sighed quietly.

"Good. Now I should go and see how Rumil is." Legolas nodded and looked down at the ground, trying to avoid his father's piercing blue gaze. "Go and rest, ion nin. This has been a confusing morning and I know for a fact that you didn't sleep well last night," Thranduil smiled reassuringly at his son, placing a hand on his shoulder. Legolas nodded slowly, not wanting to do as his father said but knowing, as usual, that there was little point in arguing. When the King made a decision it had to be followed or serious trouble would inevitably follow.

Thranduil left Legolas alone but the Prince could hear his father's voice from down the corridor shouting at one of the healers. He also heard his father barking orders at the guards to make sure all Mirkwood's people stayed inside the borders. Legolas sighed, he knew this was a mistake but he also knew that he couldn't go against his father's – against the King's – wishes. He decided instead of doing as his father suggested that he would go back out to the practice fields. There was no point in trying to get in to see his brother, he knew his father would have guards posted outside Rumil's room just in case someone wanted to take advantage of the Crown Prince's weakened state and no doubt they would have orders to keep Legolas out of the way.

Legolas headed back to the practice fields to shoot arrows and hopefully get rid of his frustration about not being able to be with his brother.

Translations:

Ion nin – my son

Ada – dad.

**