Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

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Mirkwood's Plague

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Chapter 16 ~ Breaking

Aragorn wiped the remaining oil off his hands and placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "I'll be right back." He went and retrieved Legolas' clothes from in front of the fire, disturbing the young healer who had been dozing in the chair. She shot up when Aragorn stepped past her.

"Sorry, Sire," she quickly apologised with a hasty bow and a flush of embarrassment at being caught sleeping on the job.

Aragorn merely smiled and placed his free hand on her shoulder. "There is nothing more you can do you. I'll watch Thranduil. You go and rest. Here," he picked up Legolas' keys and found the one to Thranduil's chambers, "you can rest in Thranduil's room."

She looked utterly shocked at this suggestion. "No, Sir! I couldn't possibly."

"Why not? The King isn't using them and Legolas won't mind." He pushed the keys into her hand. "Just keep the fire going and don't move anything."

"But…"

"There is no where else quiet. I need some time alone with Legolas. Go on."

After pondering on this for a moment, the healer nodded nervously and left the room whilst Aragorn returned to the bathroom. "Here. Put these on while they are still warm," he said to Legolas who looked up when he heard the man.

Legolas went to stand but his legs suddenly seemed too weak to support him and he was forced to sit back down lest he fall to the ground. When he turned sorrowful crystal blue eyes to Aragorn the man smiled weakly and wordlessly held out his hands to help his friend up. He said nothing as Legolas took them with shaking hands. His friend's eyes remained cast downwards in shame and frustration. Once he was standing, Aragorn passed him his clean trousers, thicker and more comfortable than simple leggings. Legolas pulled them on immediately, his balance now mostly restored. After the trousers he put on his undershirt, then a thick tunic and finally his long, thick, warm over-robe.

Aragorn led the way into the bedroom and guided Legolas to the comfortable chair by the fire. The prince stood still for a moment before turning to Aragorn. "I should check everything is alright in the Great Hall," he said, looking anxiously towards the door.

"Elrond has everything under control," Aragorn reassured, not knowing the reason for the prince's sudden reluctance to rest. Up until now he had been reasonably calm and relaxed. "Come on, sit down for a while."

"But Mirkwood…"

"Legolas, you need to take care of yourself as well as everyone else."

"I…"

"What is wrong?" Aragorn asked gently, knowing his best friend was hiding something. "Legolas?"

"If I sit down now…I'm not sure I'll be able to get back up." He said it with feigned humour but Aragorn could hear the despairing sadness in his voice.

"It's alright. I'll be right here to make sure that you do." Aragorn forced a warm smile onto his face but knew he couldn't fully hide his true sympathy and that it wouldn't go unnoticed by the ever-observant prince. However, Legolas gave a slight smile of consent, trusting his friend.

Aragorn sat the still trembling Elf down and fetched the warm soup and hot ginger tea. He placed the bowl of soup in Legolas' pliable hands.

"Eat this. It'll warm you up even more," Aragorn instructed, retrieving a hairbrush to comb through the prince's hair.

Legolas looked dubiously at the food, remembering his earlier reaction. "I don't think I can," he said sorrowfully. He didn't exactly feel hungry but he did feel 'empty' – although he didn't think this was entirely due to lack of food.

Aragorn came to his side and placed a hand on his arm. "You have to try. You need to keep your energy up." Legolas shook his head sadly. "Come on, Legolas. I have some ginger tea to settle your stomach if you feel nauseous. You must eat something. For me." Legolas found he couldn't argue with that plea and he shakily raised a spoonful of the broth to his mouth. It tasted good but he could already feel his stomach churning in protest. He reached for the tea and took a small sip, praying it would work.

His friend meanwhile began combing through Legolas' perfect golden hair, almost completely identical to his father's. The pair were so alike in looks and yet so different in temperament. Legolas was patient and calm whilst Thranduil was aloof and often hot-headed. The two got on well enough most of the time though. Not that there weren't arguments. Legolas could always stand his ground against his father when he needed to. Of course, Aragorn hadn't even been born when a young Legolas had lost his mother to Orcs but he remembered Legolas talking about how devastated he had been. Losing a parent was a dreadful thing but to then lose your brother and father…Aragorn couldn't even begin to imagine how utterly soul-shattering that must have been. Right then, he wasn't sure Legolas could handle losing anyone else. He wouldn't survive it.

It was easy to forget amidst the chaos of the disease that the prince's own family was rapidly falling to pieces. He was not alone though. Hundreds had lost family and friends but none were expected to run a kingdom that was fast falling into the grips of terror and confusion. And no one could do anything but strive to relieve as much pressure on the last remaining capable royal, not an easy task considering the situation.

**

Elrond ran into the healing room and was immediately confronted with one Elf lying dead in a pool of blood on the floor and another being restrained by a pair of strong, apparently uninfected guards.

"What happened here?" the Elf Lord demanded, striding over to the restrained Elf.

One of the two guards answered, keeping a firm hand on the criminal's arm. "He attacked the healer with a knife. According to some of the patients who witnessed the incident he just grabbed him and then stabbed him with a dagger. He says the healer was secretly hiding a cure."

Elrond sighed heavily. As if he didn't have enough on his hands at the moment. "Get him out of here. Lock him down in the dungeons." He then turned his attention to the bloody corpse. He had seen too many of these in the last few days. This was his first murder though and it deeply unsettled him. "Does he have family in Mirkwood?" Elrond asked one of the healers.

"No, my Lord. He is from Lothlorien but I believe he has a wife there."

"Is he infected?"

"No. He was one of the lucky ones," the healer said, almost smirking at the irony.

Elrond nodded. "Move him into an empty room. His family can give him a proper burial when all this is over." The healer nodded and started calling out orders and Elrond went back to his important work.

**

Legolas finished off his soup and handed the empty bowl to Aragorn.

"You ate all of it," Aragorn said, impressed. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Better," Legolas smiled genuinely.

"Good. Do you need anything else?"

Legolas shook his head. "Not unless you will let me go to the Great Hall." Although he had suggested it Legolas didn't sound too sure about it. In truth he wanted nothing more than to sit there dozing by the warmth of the fire but guilt and a strong sense of duty forced him to ask. And Aragorn, knowing exactly what the prince needed and wanted, said 'no'. It was in that simple gesture, someone making a decision for him, that made Legolas feel so much better. It was the first time it had happened since the plague hit Mirkwood and the relief of that burden nearly shattered his composure. All he could do was whisper, "Thank you." Aragorn nodded, knowing exactly how much it meant to his friend.

The King fetched a spare blanket from the cupboard and carefully placed it over Legolas' knees to keep him warm. The Elf could do nothing but sigh in contentment. Even though he knew this wouldn't last long he revelled in it. Already his body was beginning to ache again and his hands were shaking once more. The worst thing though was that when he leaned his head back and closed his eyes the images of the bodies burning on the funeral pyres returned to haunt him. Snapping his eyes open he saw Aragorn checking on Thranduil again. The man looked over when he felt Legolas' intense gaze on him. He was surprised to find tears in them.

Stepping over to Legolas and crouching down in front of him, Aragorn asked, "What's wrong, mellon nin?"

After a pause Legolas answered, "He's going to die, isn't he?" It was the question he had been avoiding, knowing he couldn't handle the answer.

Aragorn's only response was silence before he finally regained his voice. "We don't know that yet," he answered carefully.

Legolas nodded. "I can't, Aragorn," his words came out as more of a sob. "I can't lose him."

"You won't. We'll find a way." Aragorn placed his hands on Legolas' knees.

"I can't live without him."

"Don't. Don't you dare talk like that, Legolas. We will get through this together. Do you hear me?"

"What am I supposed to do, Aragorn?" Legolas asked despairingly, looking up at his old friend.

"You carry on what you're doing now: taking one step at a time. That's the only way we can get through this."

"I don't know if I can," Legolas cried.

"Yes, you can. Of course you can."

Legolas shook his head. "No. Rumil was…"

"Rumil is dead," Aragorn said a little too sharply, wanting to get through to his friend.

"But he was the strong one. I…"

"You are strong too, Legolas. You are. I know you're just as strong as your brother was. You can do this." Again Legolas shook his head. "Yes."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"I keep seeing them, Aragorn. They're haunting me."

"Who?" Aragorn asked in confusion, looking straight into Legolas' blue eyes, which were now glazed with tears. That frantic look was back.

"Them. The dead people."

"Legolas…"

"I can't stop thinking about them, Estel."

"Mellon nin, I'm so sorry," Aragorn whispered, tears in his own eyes at his friend's despair. "Your own friends…" he trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

"You and Elrond can't stop them haunting me."

"No one is haunting you, Legolas. You just…you're tired, that's all. Once you've had some proper rest you'll feel better, I promise."

"I can't sleep." Legolas rubbed his hands over his tired eyes.

"I'll see if I can give you something to help." Aragorn got up and went to fetch some sleeping herbs but Legolas stopped him.

"No! I can't keep seeing them!"

Aragorn was suddenly at a loss. "Legolas, listen to me…"

"They haunt me."

"Listen to me, what you have been through is horrific but you are not being haunted. Do you hear me? These are just dreams, delusions." Aragorn had never seen his friend like this before and it terrified him. "You are going to be fine."

Legolas looked at Aragorn in what appeared to be utter desperation the likes of which Aragorn had never seen before. "I'm so scared," it came out as more a whimper than anything else before Legolas bent over as though the physical weight of his terror nearly crippled him.

Aragorn stood up and placed a hand on Legolas' back. The Elf sat up and threw his arms around Aragorn, resting his head on the man's stomach. The King then wrapped his arms around Legolas, gently stroking the flaxen hair. There were tears in his own eyes as he held the sobbing Elf.

"I'm so scared. Aragorn, please help me. Please," Legolas cried.

"Shhh. I will. It's going to be alright." He wished he could believe his own words.

"It hurts." Aragorn hadn't been expecting that.

"Shh. It'll be alright, I promise."

"Please help me."

"I will."

"I can't do it anymore, Aragorn. I can't."

"Shhh. I've got you, mellon nin. I've got you."

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Translations

Mellon nin – My friend

Please don't kill me. I had to have Legolas break at some point!!!! Man, that chapter is sad…

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