Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

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Mirkwood's Plague II:

Aftermath

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Chapter 8 ~ From Bad to Worse

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Whilst Legolas remained in a deep, peaceful sleep being watched over by a healer, and Elrond was wandering around amongst the patients in the Great Hall with his ever-loyal seneschal, Thranduil finally returned to his own rooms to rest. After closing the door on an over-protective bodyguard, Thranduil sat down heavily on the couch, strategically placed near the roaring fire and pulled his boots off and loosened his high collar before leaning back with a satisfied sigh. He closed his eyes and allowed his over-taxed body to relax for a moment. It was nice to just sit in silence for a while, knowing that his son and realm were safe and protected.

His quiet reverie was suddenly and expectedly interrupted by a gravelly voice from behind him. "King Thranduil."

The king immediately jumped to his bootless feet, spinning around to face the intruder in his rooms. "Who are you?" the King demanded, trying to place the dark-haired Elf. He was clearly affected by the plague. His face was so pale that he looked almost ghost-like in stark contrast to his raven hair and dark eyes, which were wild but cold at the same time. He was dressed in black robes, identifying him as a member of the Mirkwood Royal Guard in formal attire. His shoulders were stooped and he looked dead on his feet.

The Elf laughed at Thranduil's innocent question. A high, hysterical laugh. "Of course you don't know who I am, Thranduil. I'll bet you didn't know my wife either," the Elf accused angrily.

"I…"

"She's dead now," the dark Elf said coldly.

"I'm sorry," Thranduil consoled softly.

"Really? You're sorry? You never even met her so how can you be sorry? She worked in your kitchens for nearly a hundred years and you never noticed her once."

The king frowned. Truthfully, he didn't know who this Elf was, nor who his wife had been. "I am sorry," he repeated lamely.

"So am I." Tears began to roll freely down the guard's pale cheeks and he took a small but obviously threatening step forwards.

"Listen, why don't you sit down and we can talk about this?"

"What is there to talk about? You killed my wife."

"What?" Thranduil snapped impatiently, trying to think quickly about how he could talk sense into a madman.

"She was dying and you did nothing," the Elf yelled. "You weren't even there. You were hidden away, leaving your son to pick up the pieces of your shattered kingdom. Tell me, what kind of king does that make you?"

"I…I was…"

"I'm not the only one who thinks this way. Everyone else agrees with me. You just left us all to die." He rolled up his sleeve to reveal the tell-tale red blotches on his skin, a sure sign of the disease. "You left me to die," he yelled.

Thranduil took another step backwards, looking to the door and wishing that he had not dismissed his bodyguard. "There is a cure now," he said, looking back to the distraught Elf in front of him. "You can be cured. Lord Elrond…"

"I don't want to be cured," the Elf shouted. "My wife is dead. What have I got to live for now?"

"I…" Thranduil suddenly bumped into the wall behind him, now at a dead end and unable to back further away from the threatening Elf confronting him.

"Shut up," the guard cried, whipping his knife from its sheath in one fluid movement. Thranduil jumped at the sight. "I'm sorry, my Lord, I really am."

"Put that down. What do you think you are you doing?"

"Avenging my wife."

Before Thranduil could dive out of the way, the guard was pinning him up against the wall, one hand around his throat cutting off his air so he couldn't call for help. "If you have anything to tell your son, tell me now. I promise, I'll make certain he gets the message." The Elf sounded so calm in saying this that it sent a chill through Thranduil and he shivered slightly.

"Please don't do this," the king urged, his voice hoarse as he tried to draw in enough breath to speak.

"When you get to the Halls of Waiting, tell my wife that I love her and that I am sorry for everything."

At these seemingly touching words, the guard plunged his knife into the King of Mirkwood's heart. Thranduil looked down with wide eyes to his chest in shock, his hands going to the handle as if to check it was really there and not just an illusion. The guard ripped the knife out, releasing him, and Thranduil slipped slowly down the wall, losing all his strength, his hands falling limply to his sides. His bright blue eyes looked up to the dark Elf, his hands covered in the king's own blood.

"I promised it would be quick. I'll tell your son that you love him." And with frightening calmness the dark Elf bent down and with a sad look and a small smile, slashed the knife across Thranduil's exposed throat. The king gurgled for a moment on the edge of death then went completely still. And so, the King of Mirkwood passed away; staring lifelessly at the opposite wall as his killer wiped the bloodied knife on his black robes, his eyes never leaving the corpse.

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"Well, congratulations on getting him to stay away from the Great Hall for a while," Gandalf laughed to Elrond who smiled broadly at his achievement.

"Thank you, mellon nin."

"It seems that our king and prince are at least becoming a little more settled now. The kingdom and its people will repair themselves over time, I have no doubt. Elves are the most resilient creatures. Are they not, Captain?"

Glorfindel glanced across at the Wizard. "Indeed, sir."

The Wizard put his arm over Glorfindel's shoulders and smiled. "So formal, Captain. Cheer up. Soon all this will be over, mellon nin, and you can return to Imladris with your Lord." Glorfindel just smiled gently, knowing the Wizard was teasing him.

Elrond also grinned at his seneschal's seeming indifference as he turned the handle to Thranduil's rooms. He had promised to give the king an update that evening and he wouldn't break his word, especially as nothing important had happened in the kingdom that day, so he wouldn't have to distress the king at all. He pushed open the door but stopped dead when he saw inside the room.

Thranduil was sitting against the wall, completely lifeless but barely recognisable. He was covered in blood. His throat had been slashed, coating his clothes in dark, drying blood. His face had also been slashed, rendering him almost unrecognisable for scratches and cuts. The floor was covered in congealed blood, which had spread all around the dead king. On the couch, an Elf calmly sat facing the flickering fire. The knife was still held in his hand, almost stuck on with drying blood.

The three people in the doorway couldn't move for a couple of beats, too stunned to do anything. It was Elrond who moved first, running into the room and straight to the king. Glorfindel was next, whipping his knife from his belt and going to the Elf sat on the couch. He just sat quietly as Glorfindel quickly snatched the knife from his hand, throwing it across the room so it was out of his reach.

"Get up," he yelled at the dark Elf. Receiving no response, he grabbed the guard's bloody robes and unceremoniously yanked him to his feet. The Elf obligingly followed Glorfindel across the room and the captain threw him against the wall, pinning his hands behind his back so he was properly restrained. "Don't move," the captain growled, pushing the blood-covered Elf forcefully against the wall with his free arm.

Whilst Glorfindel was restraining Thranduil's murderer, Elrond and Gandalf moved towards the king. Elrond bent down, knowing already that the king was dead but needing to check anyway. There was no way he could check the pulse in Thranduil's neck – there wasn't enough of it left – so he placed two fingers against the king's cold wrist but found nothing. His horror-filled chocolate eyes flicked up to meet Gandalf's and he shook his head. He sat back on his heels, looking across at Glorfindel, who was watching him closely, almost willing the king to be alive.

"He's dead," Elrond confirmed Glorfindel's worst fears.

The Captain's bright blue eyes turned to the dark Elf he was holding, who was just standing passively, not even attempting to get free. It seemed as if this indifference to the situation tipped Glorfindel over the edge and he pulled the Elf away from the wall and shoved him out of the door. Once outside, followed by the watchful Gandalf, who slammed the door behind him, Glorfindel pushed the murderer against the far wall before forcing him roughly to his knees.

"Gandalf, go and fetch some guards to escort this murderer to the dungeons," Glorfindel said coldly.

"Captain, I don't think…" Gandalf started to protest, not trusting that Glorfindel wouldn't find his own form of justice on the Elf.

"I'm not going to do anything. Just get some guards," Glorfindel assured. Although the Wizard looked concerned he nodded and rushed off to find someone to help the seneschal. Once he was gone, Glorfindel pushed the Elf hard against the wall again, causing him to grunt in pain. "Why? Why did you do it?" he asked coldly, his knife at the ready. The Elf mumbled something incoherent. "What?"

"He killed my wife," the Elf repeated louder but it still made no sense to Glorfindel.

"What are you talking about?"

"He killed my wife. He left her to die."

"You're insane."

"Tell Legolas that I love him," the Elf whispered.

At these words, Glorfindel shoved him forward against the wall so hard that he swore he heard a bone crack. "Don't you dare say his name," the captain growled.

"Tell Legolas that I love him."

"I said, shut up," Glorfindel shouted, grabbing the Elf's hair and pulling his head back to expose his neck before placing his knife against the Elf's throat.

"Glorfindel," Elrond warned sharply from the doorway. "He's not worth it."

"I think he is."

"Don't," Elrond said firmly.

Luckily, before Glorfindel could do anything rash, Gandalf returned, bringing several fully armed guards with him, including the king's personal bodyguard.

"Take him to the dungeons and lock him up," Elrond instructed as Glorfindel handed over the prisoner to them.

"No need to be gentle," the captain added.

"What happened?" the king's bodyguard asked Elrond, appearing almost frantic with worry. "Is it the King? Is he alright? Tell me."

Elrond looked to Glorfindel before answering, "No, the king is dead."

"What?" the Elf breathed. "That's not possible." He pushed past Elrond into the room and found Thranduil's body. A moment later he exited more slowly, white as a sheet and trembling slightly. "By the Valar," he whispered.

All three just stared at each other for long moments until healers and guards started flooding into the corridor, having heard something had happened to their king and wanting to find out what exactly was going on.

The Captain of the Mirkwood Guard calmly approached Elrond and Glorfindel. He didn't look too well himself, having clearly been affected by the disease. His uniform had obviously been pulled on hastily as his tunic was only half buttoned and his shirt was wrinkled. Despite all this he carried himself with authority that made all his soldiers present stand to attention and focus on his words. "The prisoner has been taken to the dungeons?" he asked, having obviously been filled in despite only a few minutes having passed, and they both nodded. "The scene has been secured?" More silent nodding. "And what of Prince Legolas? Is he safe and under guard?"

"Oh my. Legolas," Elrond exclaimed before any of the soldiers could answer.

Glorfindel also suddenly tensed. He hadn't even considered that they would have to tell the prince about this. "He won't know," he whispered, his voice bordering on despair, which Elrond might have commented on had it been a different time.

"Someone should tell him soon before he finds out on his own," the guard said firmly, always thinking of the safety of his charges.

"Yes of course," Elrond said slowly. "I guess I should be the one to tell him." He sighed sadly. Of everything in the world, telling Legolas that his beloved father was dead was the worst thing he could think of doing. Legolas doted on his father. This would crush him.

"I'll come with you," Glorfindel offered.

"You don't need to do that."

"I want to."

Elrond looked deep into bright blue eyes for a second before saying, "I really think it would be best if I did this alone."

"Elrond, please. He'll want me there. Please."

"Alright but just stand back and let me…"

"I promise I won't interfere."

"Then we should go now, tell him as soon as possible." The Captain of the Mirkwood Guard nodded his consent that they leave them started issuing orders to his guards.

They walked slowly down the corridors, neither wanting to reach their destination. They briefly stopped off at a bathroom to clean themselves up. It would be hard enough for Legolas to hear the truth without the messengers being covered in the blood of his father. When they reached Legolas' rooms, Elrond tapped on the door and received an 'enter' from inside. Slowly, he opened the door to reveal Legolas standing in the living room fully dressed and actually looking a little better. He looked up and smiled at the pair of visitors.

"Elrond, I was just coming to find you. I thought I might go and take a walk around the palace. Just slowly, of course. And maybe find Aragorn, Gimli and the Hobbits. They must be feeling rather abandoned lately," Legolas said, doing up his buttons with steady hands. He continued speaking, feeling better than he had done in ages. Elrond and Glorfindel just stood there watching him in silence, neither able to speak just yet. Legolas carried on, oblivious to his friends' discomfort. "Anyway, I won't go too far."

"Legolas," Elrond finally interrupted him gently, snapping from his fear induced silence.

"I really mean it this time, Elrond. I won't wander off and you can even stay with me if you like."

Legolas went to make for the door but Elrond stopped him, placing his hands on the prince's arms. "Legolas stop," he said softly.

For the first time, Legolas actually looked at Elrond. The healer was pale, his brown eyes wide and saddened. Glorfindel looked much the same, watching him with what could only be described as pity. He pulled back sharply from Elrond, suddenly and inexplicably terrified of the healer.

"What?" he asked slowly. When Elrond didn't answer but instead glanced over to Glorfindel who lowered his gaze to the floor, Legolas felt a strange chill ripple through him. "Elrond, what's wrong?" His main thought was that something was happening in the kingdom; that people were getting sick again.

"Maybe we should sit down," Elrond suggested, his voice wavering slightly.

"I don't want to sit down. Tell me what's going on," Legolas said with false firmness. "You're scaring me, Elrond."

"I…I'm sorry, Legolas. I'm not trying to frighten you."

"Then just tell me what's wrong," Legolas said with a small, nervous laugh.

Elrond looked to Glorfindel once more but received no help from him. "Legolas, I…I'm sorry, I don't know quite how to tell you this but…your father…"

Suddenly Legolas' terror peaked. "What about him? What's wrong? Elrond, please tell me. Is he alright? Is it the disease? It's back…"

"No, there's no more disease. There was an Elf – a guardsman. He had a knife." Elrond looked sorrowfully up into Legolas' innocent blue eyes. "Legolas, he's dead."

Surprisingly, Legolas just looked confused instead of heartbroken. "A dead guard? What has that got to do with my father?"

Elrond shook his head, swallowing his grief. "No, I'm sorry, Legolas. It's your father. Your father…he was stabbed. I'm so sorry, your father is dead," Elrond finally said as carefully as he could.

Legolas just looked at him steadily for a long time before glancing over to Glorfindel and smiling softly. "What?"

"Legolas…"

"Why would you say something like that?" he accused, his voice shaking horribly.

Elrond stepped forwards to console him. "I am so sorry…"

"Why would you say something like that?" Legolas now shouted. "And you…" he turned on Glorfindel who was now watching him closely. Something in the seneschal's clear blue eyes suddenly banished any doubt from Legolas' mind. Those eyes could never lie although for the first time in his life Legolas wished they could. "Glorfindel?" he asked, his voice breaking as he almost begged for the captain to tell him that this was just a cruel joke.

Unfortunately, Glorfindel couldn't grant Legolas' wish and he nodded his head gently, confirming what Elrond had just told him. "I am sorry."

Legolas turned away, unable to look at the two older Elves. Elrond and Glorfindel just watched him as he stared unblinkingly at the fire. Suddenly, the prince turned to face them then strode to the door. "You're lying," he stated desperately. "I want to see my father."

Elrond grabbed Legolas to prevent him from leaving. "No, Legolas, don't," Elrond said firmly.

Legolas pulled himself harshly away, stepping back. "Let me out, Elrond. Now."

"Please Legolas. Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," Legolas yelled. "Let me see him right now."

"Legolas, you don't want to see him right now," Elrond reasoned. "Just try to calm down and let me explain."

"No! Let me out, Elrond." Legolas took a threatening step towards the healer. "Get out of the way."

Elrond remained admirably calm in the face of this intimidation. "Just…" Before he could even finish his sentence, Legolas grabbed his arm and physically shoved him out of the way and reached for the handle. This time it was Glorfindel who intercepted him, merely placing his hand over his own, immediately halting his actions. Legolas looked up, tears brimming in his eyes.

"Come and sit down, mellon nin," Glorfindel said gently, taking Legolas' trembling hands. "Come on."

Slowly, Legolas nodded and allowed Glorfindel to lead him away from the door. He was sat down and the captain sat beside him. "I have to see him," Legolas told the seneschal quietly, looking pleadingly up into his eyes.

The captain steadily held his gaze. "Alright, listen to me now. You don't want to see him just yet. Elrond will…well, he'll make him more presentable and you can go and see him later on."

Legolas jumped up suddenly, startling the others. "No, I want to see him now."

Glorfindel slowly stood beside him, placing his hands on Legolas' arms to hold him back. "Look at me." Legolas looked up, meeting his eyes almost reluctantly. "You do not want to see him like that, Legolas." His voice was so soft; Elrond had to strain to hear it.

"Have you…seen him?" Legolas asked nervously.

Glorfindel nodded gently, his hands gently stroking Legolas' arms to calm him further. "Yes."

Legolas looked down at the floor, a sob catching in his throat. "Is he…Is it bad?" the prince managed to squeeze around the lump in his throat.

"Yes," Glorfindel answered honestly. It wasn't as if he could lie to the prince, it wouldn't be fair. "You don't want that sight to be the final memory of your father. He wouldn't want you to remember him that way, would he?" Legolas shook his head, choking on another sob. Not knowing what else to do, Glorfindel pulled him into a tight hug and Legolas sagged against him, finally crying noisily into his chest. "It's alright," Glorfindel soothed, holding onto the sobbing prince and swaying slightly on the spot to offer comfort.

"He can't….He can't be dead. He can't be," Legolas cried. "He can't leave me here all alone."

"Shhh, it's alright."

"Glorfindel…please."

"I'm right here, mellon nin."

When Legolas had calmed down a little bit, Glorfindel carefully pulled back. "Now come and sit down for a minute, you've had a massive shock."

"I want to see my father. I want to know what happened."

"Alright, you sit here for a while. Elrond will go and sort everything out and then someone will come and explain what happened to you, alright?" Glorfindel said calmly, trying to convince the prince through his grief. Legolas nodded with a small whimper, wiping at his eyes. "Alright."

Elrond stepped forwards. "I'll be back soon." Glorfindel nodded in Legolas' place. "Will you remain here with Legolas?"

"Of course," Glorfindel answered without hesitation, as if he would even consider leaving the prince alone at a time like this.

"Should I inform Aragorn and the other members of the Fellowship?"

"Yes but on one but them should know," Legolas said as firmly as he could manage.

"Guards were at the scene. I doubt it will remain a secret for long but of course I will respect your wishes as much as possible," Elrond said, knowing he wasn't sounding as kind and sympathetic as Glorfindel but someone needed to remain strong and in control. Legolas needed that right now even if he was unaware of it. "I'll go and take care of everything. I want you to sit here for a while and regain your balance."

"Thank you," Legolas managed to choke out quietly, not bothering to meet the Elven Lord's gaze.

Elrond nodded and left quietly, knowing Legolas was in safe hands with his loyal seneschal. He first went to the healing halls where the guards had quietly taken the body of the King of Mirkwood. All the guards and healers in the room – and there were a fair few who wanted to see their king – were pale and tears were falling freely down their proud faces. Elrond approached the crying healers and instructed them to begin the gruesome task of cleaning up the king for his son's viewing. After assuring almost every person in the room that Legolas was well and had been informed of the king's demise, he assured them that their prince was being well looked after and that he would pass on their heart-felt condolences. Finally, he managed to get away from the room and grimly went off to find Aragorn and the others.

Luckily, Aragorn, Arwen, the Hobbits and Gimli were all in the same place – the dining hall. None of them noticed Elrond quietly enter and for a moment he just watched them laughing and joking with one another, oblivious to the grief that would soon swamp them. It was Arwen who first noticed him and alerted the others to his presence.

"Ada, come and join us," she smiled, her hand tightly entwined with her husband's.

"Aye. For Elves you have good food here," Gimli laughed, saluting Elrond with a well cooked chicken leg.

"Ada, what's wrong?" Arwen asked when her father just stood in the doorway not even cracking a smile at their good cheer. Everyone else looked to Elrond for an explanation for his silence. "Ada?"

Elrond finally stepped into the room, dreading this only slightly less than he had telling Legolas. "I have some…bad news," he said quietly.

"What is it?" Aragorn asked, instantly resuming his healer's tone. Like Legolas he assumed it was something to do with the deadly disease.

"It's King Thranduil."

"What about him? Is he sick again?" Aragorn asked urgently.

"No, he's not sick."

"Then what?" Gimli grumbled.

"Yes, spit it out," Pippin laughed, obviously a little tipsy from the fine wine that had been served with dinner.

Elrond waited for the Hobbits to stop giggling before breaking the news. "Thranduil is dead. He was murdered. We found his body an hour ago in his rooms. I've just come back from telling Legolas."

The words resulted, unsurprisingly, in a completely stunned silence. Everyone froze, not quite believing what they were hearing.

"This is a joke, right?" Merry asked innocently.

Rather more sternly than he intended to, Elrond said, "No, it is not a joke."

Arwen put her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp, followed by a quiet, "By the Valar." Meanwhile, Aragorn pulled himself up from his seat. "Where is Legolas?" he asked, his primary concern being his best friend.

"In his rooms." Aragorn immediately went to leave but Elrond stopped him. "Glorfindel is with him. He's safe."

"You don't understand, Ada. He won't survive without his father. This will devastate him."

"I know but I don't think he wants nor needs a big crowd of people around him right now. Glorfindel will make sure he is alright. And the killer is behind bars out of the way," Elrond explained calmly.

"He's still alive?" Aragorn exclaimed.

"We found him sitting with the king, still holding the murder weapon."

"And you locked him in the dungeons?" Gimli growled fiercely. "Let me near him with my axe and I'll rid you of the problem."

"No, this has to be done properly," Elrond snapped.

"I can't believe it," Frodo whispered softly, bringing them all back to the present.

Aragorn slowly sank back down and put his arm around his wife, holding her close to his side and she cried softly against his shoulder. "Is there anything we can do?" the man finally asked for all of them, considerably calmer now.

"Plenty. But right now you need to stay here and keep quiet about this. For now the fewer people who know the better."

"And Legolas?"

"We'll look after Legolas. Don't worry, ion nin."

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A/N: Please don't hurt me.

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Translations

Mellon nin – My friend

Ada – Dad

Ion nin – My son

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