Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.
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Mirkwood's Plague
Chapter 7 ~ Mirkwood's Plague
"Well, what's going on?" Pippin asked Legolas, who was sitting at his father's desk watching his friend.
"I really wish I knew," the prince sighed. "Until we can figure out what is going on I suggest you all stay inside the palace walls. I'd feel much better knowing where everyone is from now on."
"You're in charge, I suppose," Gimli said.
"Forgive me, my friends, I didn't mean to order you around. I am merely thinking of your own safety."
"My dear Legolas, you are in charge. We will all do as you say," Gandalf smiled and the others nodded in agreement.
"Thank you," Legolas smiled, a look of relief on his otherwise troubled face. "I appreciate your patience. I understand that this wasn't the visit you were expecting. I'm afraid, Gimli, that you are not going to see Mirkwood at its best," Legolas smiled sadly towards the Dwarf.
"What I have seen so far has been…satisfactory," the Dwarf 'complimented'.
"Satisfactory? I'm…" A servant cut Legolas off at this point by bursting through the doors.
"Your Highness, forgive me but there is something you need to see. Immediately," the servant blurted out.
"What is it?" Legolas asked, all traces of humour now gone from his voice.
"I… you must see for yourself." The servant grabbed Legolas' arm, much to his surprise, and literally dragged him down the corridor seemingly unconcerned at the lack of royal etiquette. When they finally reached the entrance, the servant stopped and pushed the door open. What Legolas and the others, who had followed him out, saw was something they would never forget for as long as they lived. There were hundreds of people crowded in the palace courtyard. All wore the same terrified look. When Legolas stepped into the crowd they surged forward, crying out in pain and desperation.
They all looked like Rumil had: exhausted, confused and terrified. Most were screaming at their prince to help them, to do anything. One Elf-maiden was holding a screaming baby in her arms. She held him towards Legolas, saying something the prince could not understand, their voices all melded together making an indistinguishable drone.
He just stood watching the pale faces trying to push their way forwards as if a mere glance at their prince would cure them. Legolas looked around, amazed and horrified at what he saw. One Elf jumped forward and fell to his knees in front of Legolas and reached out with his hands. When Legolas instinctively pulled away from him, the Elf grabbed hold of Legolas' legs and held on tightly as though his life depended on it. Legolas made no further move to remove the Elf and soon more people were reaching out to touch him as if he could cure them.
Aragorn, who was standing directly behind his friend, was also something for them to cling onto. They pulled on his tunic, all hoping to just touch him. He was just as stunned as Legolas and didn't move even when their struggles became more desperate.
"Are they all from Mirkwood?" Aragorn asked as soon as he could speak again.
"I don't know. They can't be. Even if this is a disease of some kind there's no way it could have spread this quickly. Rumil only returned this morning."
"I've never seen anything like this," Aragorn said, holding a sobbing woman to his chest.
"You!" Legolas shouted to the servant who had led them. "Go fetch Lord Elrond right away. Take the others inside and keep them out of harm's way." The servant rushed off with the visitors running after him. "Estel, I know you haven't practiced healing in a while but I could really use your help."
"Of course. I don't know that I can do much to cure them though."
"Then at least try to ease their suffering."
"I'm going to need somewhere to work and some supplies."
"Our healing halls will provide you with whatever you need."
"I'll be right back," Aragorn told him, gently prying the woman off him and turned to leave. As he got inside he almost walked into Elrond.
"Estel, what's going on?"
"How is the king?"
"No better and I am no closer to a cure."
"Then you're not going to like what's out there."
Elrond watched as Aragorn dashed away. He stepped outside and suddenly saw what his son meant. Legolas was standing amongst two hundred Elves, all looking as bad as Thranduil.
"Legolas?" Elrond asked as soon as he was close enough for the prince to hear. "What's happening? Where did all these people come from?"
Almost immediately Elrond was surrounded by people begging for help with all the energy they had left in their battered bodies. He recognised the same dark bruises on their bodies as he had seen on Rumil's corpse. He had seen war and suffering before but never anything quite like this. There was a mad, desperate look in their clouded eyes that told Elrond that they would do anything for just a second with a healer and that was a disturbing thought; when put in that kind of situation they were capable of anything. Clearly these people were not thinking straight. Elrond didn't need to examine them to know that. He spotted some of the worst cases amidst the crowd being held up by family and friends. All were pleading for help but those worst affected looked completely drained of energy unable to do anything but be pulled along by the pitiful crowd. Elrond noticed that the Elves' eyes were glazed over in agony, their faces desperate and pale. He also saw blood streaking down their faces; exactly the same signs he saw on Rumil when he had examined him earlier on. One of the most affected grabbed Legolas' arm and quickly handed him her baby before collapsing back into the mass of people. The prince merely stared at the screeching baby in his arms for a moment before turning to Elrond with pleading eyes, hoping the older Elf would have some idea of what to do next.
Elrond caught Legolas' gaze and held it only for a second before he realised he was being asked to help. He took one last fleeting look around before prising the gripping hands of the diseased off him. The hands were not so easy to pull off of Legolas and it took all their strength to pull the doors closed behind them.
Legolas and Elrond stood stunned in the relative peace of the hallway for a moment before Legolas finally spoke.
"We have to help them. We have to do something." He made to open the doors again but Elrond grabbed his arm to stop him.
"You can't go back out there," he warned.
"And I can't stand in here and do nothing whilst my people are dying," Legolas snapped, tears in his eyes.
"You are the Prince of Mirkwood and you are leader of these people, you are the only hope they have and you need to be alive and well for them. If you go back out there they'll tear you to shreds."
"There are so many of them," Legolas muttered disbelievingly. His eyes filled with tears of sympathy for his people and he looked pleadingly at Elrond.
"Yes there are and they need their prince to be strong for them."
Legolas nodded and took a deep breath to regain his already fragile composure. "Of course you are right, my Lord. What do you propose we do next?" As he said this Aragorn rejoined them and took the baby from the prince's arms.
"I suggest that you take charge. We will treat as many as we can as fast as possible. We might not have a cure for this but we can certainly treat the symptoms."
Legolas looked at the doors again, contemplating whether he should go outside or not. He shook his head and turned to face Aragorn, who was rocking the baby in his arms. Legolas realised with relief that it had finally stopped crying. He walked over to Aragorn and looked down at the baby. He placed a gentle hand on it smooth face and Aragorn noticed with concern that it was shaking slightly. Both looked up and bright blue eyes met stormy grey for a moment. Something then seemed to click in Legolas' mind and he suddenly knew what he had to do.
He turned sharply to Elrond, a new determination set on his handsome face.
"Alright," he said, walking confidently past Elrond, who obediently followed, briefly glancing back at Aragorn. "Elrond, I want you to turn the halls into healing areas, make use of any available space in the palace. Empty the healing halls of anything useful. I want as many people as possible to be treated." He stopped at the healing halls and summoned all the healers to him. "I want as many people as possible working on a cure for this – or at least trying to find out what it is. The rest are to treat as many patients as you can. I realise this is a lot to ask of you but we have to find a cure as fast as we can. Elrond, you will be in charge of the healing halls, everyone report to either me, Elrond or Aragorn. Top priority for the guards is to make sure no one leaves Mirkwood, your top priority is to help the sick."
"What about those beyond aid?" Elrond asked, knowing it was something they couldn't possibly ignore under the circumstances. "Do we treat their symptoms as well?"
Legolas was silent for a moment. He took a steadying breath before speaking. "No," he said firmly. "Those you know are beyond aid, leave. Make them as comfortable as you can but we cannot afford to waste our resources on the hopeless cases." It was hard for him to say and hard for them to hear but it had to be done. Elrond nodded gently in agreement.
Legolas nodded sharply to the healers before walking out of the room, closely followed by Elrond. Once the door was closed he leaned back against the wall and put a hand over his face, wishing this was all a bad dream but when he took his hand away he saw a sad-looking Elrond watching him. The elder Elf placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder.
"You did the right thing. Those things had to be said. Your people need to know what's happening, they need to see you taking charge." Legolas nodded weakly, looking around him, anywhere but Elrond's eyes.
"How is Ada?" he asked with a sigh. "Is he any better?"
"I honestly don't know. I believe his condition is deteriorating. I promise I'll let you know if there is any major change."
"Maybe I should go and see him," Legolas said, looking desperately for an excuse to leave this madness behind, if only for a moment.
"He is unconscious at the moment." Elrond watched Legolas transform from the proud, controlled Prince of Mirkwood serving his King, to the child who worried for his father. It was only now that Elrond realised how unfair all this must have been on him. Just that morning he had discovered that his beloved brother was dead and now half of Mirkwood was sick with the same kind of fast-spreading disease, from which his father was also suffering. It was cruel and Elrond hated to see his friend looking so lost.
"What about the rest of the Fellowship?" Legolas' voice took on the tone of a leader once more.
"They are completely unaffected. The Hobbits are still hungry and Gimli is as grumpy as ever. I think this virus, or whatever it is, only affects Elves."
"Then we can send one of them to Imladris. Your people can help us."
Elrond shook his head. "The disease is obviously transmitted through people; it might be carried by all species. If you allow people out of this kingdom it could spread outside Mirkwood. We simply cannot risk spreading it any further."
"We have to do something. My people are dying," Legolas yelled. He lowered his voice though when a startled healer walked past. She just carried on walking, pretending not to have heard anything. "I will not stand back and do nothing. I can't."
TBC…
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