Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

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Mirkwood's Plague

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Chapter 10 – From Bad To Worse

As soon as he was out of sight of Elrond and Aragorn, Legolas half ran, half stumbled down the corridors to where his father was sleeping soundly. He practically threw himself into the healing room and slammed the door behind him. He leaned against the door for a moment unable to catch his breath properly. Upon closing his eyes, the faces of the numerous dead flashed before him, their faces mangled and twisted in pain. He opened his eyes quickly and looked over at Thranduil and for a moment saw him not how he was – sleeping peacefully – but as one of the agonised dying, reaching out to him, grabbing at his hands and clothes.

The sight pushed Legolas over the edge. Feeling worse than he ever remembered he stumbled towards the bathroom and made it to the basin just in time before he brought up what little food he had eaten for lunch. A short, sharp knock at the door made him look up and he saw Elrond standing at the bathroom door, concern creasing his ageless features. For a brief moment though, Legolas saw him as yet another corpse, burned beyond recognition having crawled from one of the funeral pyres still smouldering outside. The thing softly spoke his name before turning back into normal Elrond. Legolas turned and vomited again, leaning heavily against the sink for support when his legs started to feel weak and the room started to spin dizzyingly.

Within seconds Elrond was at his friend's side. He placed a comforting hand on his back and was surprised to find him trembling dreadfully. He reached over and tucked Legolas' long blonde hair behind his ears, pulling it out of the way. Tears were running down the young prince's face and when he wasn't being sick he was sobbing pitifully. Elrond said nothing though, leaving Legolas alone but keeping a comforting hand on his back and rubbing reassuring circles in an attempt to calm him down. His other hand was placed on Legolas' arm, which was almost locked against the basin, as though it were the only thing keeping him upright.

When it looked like Legolas was finished Elrond reached for a towel and handed it to the prince. Legolas wiped his mouth whilst Elrond fetched a glass of water from the next room. He handed it to the prince who accepted it with shaking hands and took a long, slow sip. He then placed it aside and leaned back over the sink when he felt bile rising to the back of his throat again. Elrond saw this and replaced his hand on Legolas' back to let him know he was still with him.

"It's alright," he whispered kindly.

Almost as if on cue, Legolas vomited again, although he didn't know how there could be anything left inside of him. Elrond stayed right next to him, rubbing his back gently and murmuring reassurances.

He stopped and looked up when there was a gentle tap on the door and a healer from the Great Hall entered obviously searching for his Prince.

"Just give us a moment, please," Elrond said quietly so it didn't upset Legolas any further. He knew the proud young prince wouldn't want a lot of people around. The healer looked understandingly at Elrond, sadly at his prince and left the room. Apparently, Legolas hadn't even noticed the healer because he was still leant over the sink, trying to fight the nausea that shot through his stomach.

"Just let your body do what it needs to," Elrond reassured when he noticed Legolas fighting desperately for control.

Someone else entered the room a few minutes later, only this time it wasn't a servant but Gandalf. The Wizard opened his mouth to speak when he saw the state Legolas was in. He leaned against his staff against the wall and walked silently into the bathroom. Elrond turned back to Legolas, who was still retching into the basin, unable to stop no matter how hard he tried to control it. Each time he did, faces of the agonised dying flashed before his eyes. The images turned his stomach and he just couldn't stop what was happening to him. He didn't even notice Gandalf's entrance.

The Wizard looked sympathetically at Legolas before turning and leaving the room, knowing Legolas would not want an audience to witness his moment of weakness. Gandalf walked into the healing room where Thranduil remained sleeping soundly, undisturbed by his son's pitiful state in the next room. Gandalf quickly and efficiently prepared some ginger tea to settle Legolas' stomach and returned to the bathroom. His heart went out to the young, inexperienced Prince of Mirkwood. He had been strong for his people all day and it had to be hard on him. It was easy to forget that he had also lost a brother and countless friends – all in a matter of days.

Gandalf handed the mug of steaming tea to Elrond who accepted it with a small smile of thanks.

"Legolas, here drink this. It will help," the healer said. Legolas looked up, grabbed the towel and took the mug shakily from Elrond. He drank it slowly, feeling the effects of the warm, soothing liquid on his stomach almost immediately. He handed the mug back to Elrond once he had finished.

Legolas obviously didn't entirely trust the tea would work as he stayed bent over the sink, gagging occasionally but managing to keep the tea down. Elrond just waited patiently and kept his hand on Legolas' back for reassurance. The prince still had one arm locked on the sink so tightly that his knuckles were white, whilst the other was curled across his stomach, apparently hoping it would further ease the horrible feeling.

Eventually, when he was certain he wasn't going to be sick again, Legolas stood up straight, somewhat gingerly. He removed his hand from the sink and sunk slowly to the ground as though he had also purged every last ounce of energy in his body. Elrond went down with him, keeping his hand on Legolas' arm just in case. When he was sitting on the floor, Legolas leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes in exhaustion. When the faces of the dead again flashed before him he quickly opened them. Looking around he saw Elrond sat next to him and Gandalf sitting silently in the chair in the corner, just in case he was needed.

Legolas smiled faintly, more to reassure the other two than because there was anything at all to smile about. He went to push himself up. Elrond, ever vigilant, kept his hand on Legolas' arm so when the bathroom began to swim before the prince's eyes the elder Elf was there to guide him gently back down to the ground.

"Just give yourself a minute," Elrond calmly instructed. Legolas nodded, pleased that Elrond was keeping nice and clinical about the situation. He needed that kind of authoritative, calm reassurance and instruction right then. He allowed himself to get his bearings before swiping a hand across his hot, sweat coated forehead, trying desperately to get a grip on himself. He noticed his hand shaking ever so slightly and again the room began to waver. He closed his eyes in an attempt to orient himself but was assailed by the horrific images and he managed to bring the towel to his mouth just as he gagged again.

After he had composed himself he took the towel away and reached for the water, which Elrond wordlessly handed to him.

"Slowly," the healer advised and Legolas took a long sip. He placed the glass on the floor and took a minute to calm himself down. Elrond rubbed his arm in gentle reassurance.

"I'm sorry," Legolas finally said, a slight but very fake laugh rippling through his hoarse voice.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Elrond smiled. Of course, the healer was used to such things – he had probably seen far worse in his long career.

Gandalf, who up until this point had been silent, finally spoke. "You of all people have no need to apologise after today."

"I don't know what's wrong with me." That of course was a complete lie. He and everyone else in the room knew exactly what was wrong but thankfully no one spoke the words, for which Legolas was very grateful.

"It has been a very difficult day," Elrond said diplomatically and Legolas merely nodded.

"I have just never seen so many…" His voice trailed off but both Elrond and Gandalf knew what he was trying to say.

"It's not your fault," Elrond reassured. "This has been enough to shock anyone. People often react this way to death, especially in such large quantities." Again Legolas merely nodded, too tired and too drained to do anything else.

"How is Ada?" he asked once he had recovered himself slightly. Looking out into the bedroom, Legolas saw his father lying in bed, looking nothing like the strong king he had once been. Right then he wanted nothing more than for Thranduil to stand up, smile and sort everything out himself, relieving Legolas of the burden of a kingdom in crisis, a kingdom he was never meant to rule. Rule of Mirkwood had always been Thranduil or Rumil's duty and Legolas had never really expected to get a look in.

However, right then Legolas realised that the sole responsibility of the Mirkwood Realm and every one of its citizens was his and his alone. He was their prince, their leader and they were all looking to him to make this right and there was absolutely nothing he could do.

He felt panic rising inside him again, and his stomach started churning at the mere thought of the weight of the responsibility that had been placed on his shoulders.

Elrond seemed to notice this and intervened. "Just relax, Legolas. It's alright."

"So many people, Elrond…What am I supposed to do?" Expecting an answer and getting none, Legolas turned to the Imladrian Lord. "Elrond?"

"I don't know, mellon nin, but we'll find a way."

Legolas' eyes took on a look of panic and he dashed to his feet and reached the sink just in time. Elrond had to move fast to support him. Legolas wasn't so much vomiting as sobbing into the sink now as the terrible images of the dead continued to relentlessly bombard him.

"Just breathe. Nice and slowly," Elrond's voice sounded above his laboured breathing. Legolas hated appearing like this in front of Elrond and Gandalf, he was supposed to be strong, in control, but he just couldn't stop himself, no matter how hard he tried.

"Elrond," he sobbed, not knowing who else to turn to. Elrond lifted his hand to Legolas' damp cheek and turned him so they could look into each others eyes.

Right then, Elrond saw it – all the pain, fear and panic. It was bared to him in one heart-breaking look. "We'll get through this together," Elrond said calmly, hoping it was enough to calm Legolas down.

Legolas heard such confidence in Elrond's voice that some of the fear lifted from him as well as some of the burden. He should have known that Elrond would help. The older Elf was far wiser in such matters than the young, inexperienced prince.

"It's alright," Elrond whispered, pulling the younger Elf towards him and allowing Legolas to wrap his arms tightly around him. Legolas clung to him like a frightened child clings to a parent. Legolas' lithe form shook with restrained sobs and Elrond held him tighter. "Shhh," he soothed gently, wanting nothing more than to offer help to the young prince he had become so fond of over the past years. Legolas leaned against Elrond, as much for support as for comfort and Elrond could feel the prince begin to sink to the floor, as though the weight of his pain was too much to bear so he sank down with him until they were both kneeling on the floor, Elrond not loosening his grip. "Mithrandir, blanket," Elrond instructed simply.

Gandalf nodded and instantly went to fetch a blanket from the next room. He returned seconds later and draped it over Legolas' shaking shoulders. The prince had stopped crying by now and was just lying in Elrond's arms and the Elven Lord was happy to oblige. Legolas had spent many years in Imladris and he and Elrond had become firm friends. It was uncharacteristic of Legolas to allow – let alone initiate – such close contact. Usually, he was so emotionally withdrawn, getting physically close to no one. Elrond had certainly never been a part of those rare solitary moments when the prince had let his guard down. The fact that the one person Legolas would turn to was his father, who was now incapable of doing any comforting himself, made this even worse. In his time of need, and with no one else to turn to, Elrond was the closest thing to a father figure he had and it was an honour for the older Elf.

"We'll find a way. There's always a way," Gandalf took that moment to impart upon the situation and Elrond felt Legolas nod very slightly against his shoulder.

At that moment, a knock came from the door and all three looked up to find the four Hobbits standing nervously in the doorway.

"Someone said you would be in here," Pippin said by way of explanation.

"Sorry for interrupting," Sam apologised for all of them. His eyes were fixed on the shaken, dishevelled, distraught Legolas sitting on the floor, with Elrond holding onto his arms for support. None of them had ever seen the usually perfect Elf like that before and it both concerned and disturbed them.

Legolas smiled genuinely, shakily wiping the tears from his cheeks. "It's alright, Sam. What is it?"

"We were thinking…" Merry began.

"I was thinking," Pippin interrupted.

"It was actually my idea," Sam cut in at that point.

"Actually it was mine," Pippin argued.

"What do you want?" Gandalf's voice boomed, stopping their argument, knowing this was the last thing Legolas needed right then.

"Well, Legolas, I…we were thinking that we could go to the kitchens and maybe prepare some food for the healers and patients," Frodo answered, ever the voice of reason. "It's about the only thing we can do and we all feel a little useless right now."

"That is a very good idea, whoever thought of it," Elrond said whilst Legolas merely nodded.

"You see, we don't want to sit around doing nothing anymore," Pippin began.

And Merry finished, "We want to do something useful."

"Of course," Legolas said, understanding exactly how they were feeling. "Mirkwood's kitchens are at your disposal. Make it simple though. No grand feasts."

"Uh-huh," Sam mumbled as though receiving vital instructions from the prince.

"And thank you for all you have done today," Legolas said sincerely. "After you're done ask someone to show you to your rooms. You'll find everything you need in them."

Typical Legolas, Elrond thought. Always thinking of others before himself. The Hobbits left silently, already discussing what they should cook.

"You need to get some rest now, Legolas," Elrond said as the younger Elf leaned back against him, his head resting wearily against Elrond's shoulder. "A few hours sleep will do you the world of good." He felt Legolas gently shake his head against his shoulder. "Yes. Come on, mellon nin, you're absolutely exhausted. You need to get some sleep, hmmm?"

Legolas considered this for a moment then nodded against Elrond. They disentangled and Legolas stood up slowly and a little shakily. Elrond was right, he was exhausted but he didn't know how he could possibly sleep with images of dead people running through his mind.

"Come on," Elrond said gently, leading him back into the bedroom. Instead of going to the door though, Legolas went and laid down next to his father. Elrond smiled and, as Gandalf left, reached up to one of the cupboards, bringing out a fresh towel and a basin and placed them on the table next to Legolas. "Just in case," Elrond smiled gently. Elrond gently stroked Legolas hair back and whispered, "Sleep well, mellon nin." Legolas' eyes fluttered closed and within minutes he was in a deep sleep. Elrond silently left, closing the door gently behind him.

Outside, Gandalf was waiting for him. "He's getting sick, isn't he?" Elrond merely nodded, knowing Gandalf knew the answer already. "What should we do?"

"Nothing," the Elf said simply. "Mirkwood needs him. They have nothing else."

"What do we do in the meantime?"

"Leave him to rest as long as possible. I'll keep a close eye on him." Gandalf nodded. "For now we keep this quiet. The people don't need another thing to worry about and Legolas wouldn't want anyone else to know."

No matter how pathetic it was they had a plan, whether they could keep it up was another matter entirely.

TBC…

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Translations:

Ada – Dad

Mellon nin – My friend