Author: Mirrordance
Title: The Plague
Summary: The Fellowship must reunite to save Middle-Earth again when Pippin unwittingly finds the legendary Pandora's box and opens it, releasing great evil upon the lands…
PART 2: A Ravaged Rohan
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Rohan
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"What did you think, Gimli?" Legolas asked, his eyes shining as he and his friend, the compact dwarf, rode out of the territory of Fangorn and into the borders of Rohan. The road was rugged and untamed, for the old forest was not a popular place to pass through, surrounded by its legends and swamped by its heavy, potent presence.
"I was more at home in the Glittering Caves," came the grumbled reply, "But I cannot begrudge you your affinity for the forest."
Legolas grinned, the dwarf not seeing, since the elf sat upon their steed, Arod, in front of him. It was concession enough for Legolas. The two friends had ventured out to see the beauty that the land held, in its great extremes. Their travels have taken them to strange, otherworldly, distant places indeed, Fangorn being just the last of several, and one among many journeys and explorations sure to come.
They rode in comfortable silence, each now used to the presence of the other. It was an uncanny friendship indeed. Not merely because it was between an elf and a dwarf, but because it was a bond whose strength is second to none in all the lands.
"I can see our road clearly," Legolas said, breaking the silence, his voice colored by
his smile, "After we pay our respects to King Eomer,
we can see Aragorn. Rohan
lies next to Gondor.
He would welcome us happily."
"Aye," agreed Gimli,
"One hopes he finds the time. Between
being a King and reconstructing the world, and spending time with your fair Evenstar, perhaps he may be too busy for old friends like
us, a pair of weathered travelers."
Legolas laughed, the sound musical and disarming, "You may be weathered, my friend. I most certainly am not. Besides, Aragorn always finds time, from somewhere."
"He raises his new scepter and extends the day, I say!" agreed Gimli, his laughter hearty.
"Such blasphemies you speak," Legolas commented, mock-gravely. Gimli had said something to that, and the dwarf had found himself deeply amusing, although his elf companion had not noticed it. Legolas's ears were turned elsewhere, his forehead marred by creases as he frowned.
Gimli noticed Legolas's preoccupation. Accustomed by now to his companion's actions, Gimli paused and held his breath, waiting for the elf to speak, giving him the time to listen to his surroundings.
"Gimli, do you hear anything?" Legolas asked.
"Going deaf, elf?' Gimli said, in an effort to make light of the conversation, "If there is one thing I would concede to your blasted race, its those damn ears. You know yours are much better than mine."
"Yet I hear nothing," Legolas said softly, "This is Rohan. There are supposed to be people about. We should have run across one, or two by now, or at least, dimly heard their bustle from the nearing towns. And yet there is nothing."
Gimli frowned. "You are right. There is something strange in the air indeed."
"It is a potent emptiness," Legolas said, eyes stricken, "It's as if I am suddenly deaf."
"Maybe the distant settlements have been moved," Gimli reasoned, "nearer to Edoras, perhaps. A great restructuring. Times may be more certain than they were in the time to Sauron, but there is still fear, and anxiety."
"Perhaps," Legolas agreed, though his worry would not leave him, "Let us ride faster to the Hall."
Legolas murmured to Arod in Elvish. The dwarf, after spending so much time with the Prince of Mirkwood, now understood one in every few words. The rest he filled in.
~As swift as the wind, Arod,~ Legolas said to his horse. Gimli comprehended it quickly enough to hold fast to Legolas's waist just as the horse suddenly quickened its pace.
* * *
Their worry escalated as they reached Edoras, moving through the town surrounding the Golden Hall. It was deathly still, as if all its inhabitants had simply vanished.
Legolas slowed the horse's pace, as they moved across the settlement cautiously.
"Hello!" Gimli called out, his gruff voice carried by the wind, met without response. He fingered the handle of his axe nervously, "This is very strange indeed," he muttered to Legolas, "I've not seen the likes of this."
"Nor have I," Legolas replied, "We've not even run across Rohan's Riders, who usually guard its borders with such fervor. We've not run across anyone."
"Perhaps we should leave," suggested Gimli, "Whatever it is that has overpowered Rohan's towns and its mighty Rohirrim must be made known to other cities. And I may be strong of will and spirit, but I am not so great a fool to ignore the fact that we are not an army, you and I."
"There is more to know here," Legolas murmured, pulling Arod to a stop. He dismounted warily, and held his horse for Gimli to do the same.
~Follow closely,~ Legolas said to his horse, as he and Gimli turned towards a seemingly empty hut.
"Is anyone home?" Gimli called out, his stubby fingers reaching for the door, Legolas readying his bow for any surprises that may come from within.
The knob slid smoothly, unlocked as it was. The two companions left their nervously whinnying horse outside, and stepped into the dark home.
Legolas's eyes adjusted quickly to the dark, and he caught his breath at the horrid sight, his arm tensing as he prepared to shoot his arrow, although what violence may have occurred in this home had been over long before he and Gimli had walked into its doors.
Gimli growled beside him, "This is like walking into a grave."
Bodies of the inhabitants of the house lay on the ground, not stirring, their faces turned away from Legolas and Gimli. They had no obvious wounds, although they were still and oblivious, seemingly dead.
Legolas and Gimli made sure the house was otherwise empty, before squatting on the floor to examine the bodies.
There were three children, and three older folk. They had no wounds of any kind, though it was glaringly certain that they were dead. It wasn't so much their ashen skin, or the fact that they smelled of decay, that made this a certainty. It was their eyes, lazily open, looking at nothing, seeing nothing.
"What is this devilry," murmured Legolas, searching the bodies for any sign of physical harm that may have ended their lives, and finding strange, marks of twin-punctures on the forearms of each of the bodies. They were deep and sweltering, as if they could not heal, and surrounded by a dark bruise. He showed it to Gimli, "Have you seen this bite before?"
Gimli studied it closely, "Not in all my years have I seen such a mark on a body."
"Nor have I," Legolas said thoughtfully, dusting his hands as he sighed, "I fear we may have walked into a plague, my friend."
Gimli scowled, wiping his own hands against his pants, "Let us seek Eomer. I fear we may be too late to save the life of the King from whatever it is that has plagued his land."
"We must move quickly," Legolas nodded, "I fear for neighboring lands as well, seeing that Rohan has been so ravaged."
Gimli glanced at his companion, knowing that he must have been referring to Gondor, and their friends there.
* * *
They found Eomer sitting upon his throne, his eyes listless and unseeing, much like the eyes of the others that they have passed on their way to the Golden Hall.
"Eomer!" Legolas exclaimed, running towards the King, his emotions stirring even after their travel through town had already guaranteed that he should not have hoped for any better.
"What has happened here?" Gimli asked-- for the nth time-- his mind racing, his heart pained at the horror.
"The King of Rohan is fallen," Legolas said sadly, his hand reaching towards the King's face, to close those staring eyes—
--that suddenly blinked.
Legolas stepped back, looking at Eomer with doubt, wondering if he had seen what he thought he had seen.
"Gimli," Legolas whispered, and when the dwarf did not respond, looking around the hall with such anguish on his face, Legolas called upon him more insistently, "Gimli!"
"Do not raise your voice, lad," Gimli growled at him, "Respect the dead."
"I think he lives," Legolas said in one breath, reaching his hand towards Eomer's face again, making him blink. Gimli gawked at the King as Legolas earlier had, but this time the elf did not hesitate. He took the King in his arms and laid him on the ground, pressing his ear close to the King's chest.
"He lives," Legolas said excitedly, "though barely. We must get him food, and drink. We must get him to his chambers, ensure that he recovers from this."
"We must also closely check the homes around town," Gimli said, wincing as he counted just how many homes that was, "we must ensure that anyone who still lives may be tended to as well."
"I will see to the King," Legolas agreed, "and follow you shortly. Watch your back, my friend. We still do not know what it is that has caused this."
* * *
After Legolas settled Eomer upon his chambers, he made a survey of the rest of the hall. Though a lot of the soldiers, servants, courtiers and advisers were dead, a lot also lived in a similar state as Eomer, barely breathing, and unresponsive.
Legolas carried all that he had found living into the receiving hall, where they could all be in one place, easier for him and Gimli to look after. Then he snatched blankets and covers and pillows from the rooms above to use as makeshift beds, making the ill as comfortable as possible. All the dead he had left where he found them, not yet having the heart, nor the time, to put them in one place for a proper burning, or listing.
After settling the living, he stepped out of the hall to find Gimli, so that they may both bring the living that they find from around town into the receiving hall as well.
"Gimli!" he called, jogging towards the house that Arod stood in front of. The horse had taken a liking to the dwarf as well, and guarded him as steadfastly as he looked after Legolas.
"Many yet live," Gimli updated his friend. He looked disturbed. "Have you looked upon these lands, Legolas? The Earth is untended. The harvest ignored. It's as if their lives just stood still."
"It is perplexing," Legolas winced, "It seems as if they've not eaten, or drank, or… or moved in days," he paused in thought, "Gimli, how badly can you cook?"
"You've had a taste," replied Gimli, "What say you?"
"I've tasted better," Legolas admitted.
"I've not seen you wielding a pan," retorted the dwarf.
"Elves usually live by the mercies of the forest," Legolas said in defense, "We needn't cook. We accept what is readily offered—"
Gimli waved the excuses away, "You want me to cook."
"The ill need to eat," Legolas said, "And this skill I would happily concede to the dwarves."
Gimli looked at him miserably. "What strange journeys I have with you," he hesitated, "mellon."
Despite the situation, and the slightly off-pronunciation, Legolas could not help but grin.
"I'll make sure all who live are taken to the hall," he said, "You make sure we all do not go hungry."
* * *
"All that is left of Rohan," Legolas said softly, looking over the hall at the people he and Gimli had gathered there. There were several hundred, perhaps, seemingly too much for two men to look after, but still too little for a kingdom.
Night had come, and the day had been too long. Settling the sick in the hall, force-feeding them. Now at last he and Gimli could sit still and take stock of their situation, and it was deathly still. Only he and Gimli moved, or spoke.
"What now, Master Elf?" Gimli asked beside him, similar thoughts coursing through his mind.
"You and I alone could not keep this up," Legolas said, "We must seek aid."
Gimli frowned. He knew what that meant. Legolas, the better, faster rider of the both of them, would head towards the nearby Gondor. He, on the other hand, would be left to take care of Rohan's ailing people. He did not know which duty he would prefer, if there had been a choice. Rohan was still suffering from an unknown danger that a solitary man could not possibly protect on his own, whereas journeys were still dangerous, and whatever had hurt Rohan may still be lingering about. Both options offered unspeakable danger.
"Do not leave tonight," Gimli said gruffly, "Wait for first light. It is dangerous enough to travel alone, even without the darkness."
Legolas's brows furrowed. The matter was urgent, and the Prince of Mirkwood despised waiting. But he would help no one if he walked into danger now.
"It makes sense to me, Master Dwarf," he said with a hesitant smile, "And I've tasted your cooking. It has improved somewhat."
TO BE CONTINUED…
PREVIEW of PART 3, "Gondor":
News reaches Gondor and King Elessar devices a plan of action.
A SCENE FROM PART 3:
"The short of an old myth says that the gods, angered by men, decided to place a curse upon them," Arwen said, "So they gave a woman named Pandora a beautiful jeweled box, which she was never ever to open. However, another god decided to give her curiosity. She struggles with herself and eventually fails, opening the jeweled box, unwittingly releasing the plagues inside it upon the Earth: diseases, old age, death, famine, jealousy, pain, and similar ills. They all came in the form of black, skinny, slithering lizards with wings, who bit men and influenced them.
"Pandora watched with horror as she released the evils," Arwen continued, looking at her husband with wide eyes, "but in the last moment, she finally thought to shut the lid of the box. One of these lizards remained inside, and it was only by luck that Pandora managed to imprison the most evil one."
"What is the most evil lizard?" Aragorn asked.
"Hopelessness," Arwen said gravely…
