The Plague

by Mirrordance

Concluded! 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…

5. The Road to Moria

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 5

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The Road to Moria

___

      Night had fallen, and the group made camp.  After a quick dinner, most of the company had gone to sleep on their bedrolls, with a handful staying awake at first watch.

      Laying upon his bedroll between Legolas's and Frodo's, Aragorn finds that he could not sleep.  Staring up at the canopy of trees over his head, he watched strands of moonlight seep from the gaps between leaves, their dreamy sight easing his heart.

      His mind started to drift, and when he thought that perhaps he could sleep at last, he heard Legolas whisper from beside him in Elvish,

      ~Do not even breathe, Estel.~

      Aragorn stayed as still as he could.  Legolas was not even on the first watch, he was supposed to be resting, but Aragorn trusted the elf without bounds and did as he was told.

      Suddenly, he felt his breath knock out of him when Legolas jumped from his bedroll and against him, the elf's hands clutching at his chest as the elf rolled them both away from where Aragorn had been lying.  Then Legolas raised himself to his knees, bow and arrow already on hand, his eyes searching for something in the darkness.  He released his arrow, and a strange, piercing squawking was heard, followed by a distinctly terrible odor, and the sound of wings flapping away.

      By now the entire company was roused and aware, nervously looking around them.

      "What was it?" Aragorn asked, though from the look of Legolas's face, he had already guessed.

      "It was the lizard," Legolas replied, trying to steady his nerves, lowering his bow.  He had smelled the foul odor first, then felt the creature as it crept towards Aragorn's arm.

      "Did you hit it?" Aragorn asked, raising himself from the ground.  His adrenaline was pumping.  It had come to me so close…

      "I believe so," Legolas replied, "But it did not do much good.  Gandalf did say they could not be slain, only captured."

      "Are you all right, Sire?" one of Aragorn's men asked anxiously.

      "Yes," the King replied, and Aragorn looked towards Legolas for counsel.  The elf nodded, giving the signal that the creature had left, they were clear for now.  "Stand down," Aragorn commanded, and weapons were lowered, "It is gone."

      Slowly, they all returned to their positions before the attack.  But without a doubt, no one would sleep a wink, if they could help it.

      Aragorn laid upon his bedroll, watching the moonlight which now brought less comfort to him.

      Legolas, beside Aragorn was rubbing his forearm nervously, his face also turned towards the stars.

      "Thank you, my friend," Aragorn said suddenly.

      The elf started, jumped from his reverie.  He flashed Aragorn a quick smile, "Of course.  Think nothing of it."

* * *

      Before the dawn, the scent of breakfast was already gracing the air.  The morning mist was cool and refreshing, less frigid than the night.  The company would leave at first light, and its members were already busy with packing their belongings and preparing their horses.

      Legolas watched the scene unfold before his eyes, though he felt a strange detachment towards these men.  The mist made everything look like a dream, as if he were separate from them, as if their quest was not his own.  Along the course of the night, his mission, his desire, had become entirely different from theirs…

      He shook the thought away; he has been fighting it for the length of the night, a night where he found no sleep, or rest.  His heart hammered each time he drifted to sleep, fearing that something would happen if he was not alert or on watch.

      He feared for Aragorn.  He feared that loathsome lizard would return and take Estel.  Would take hope.  Legolas had been bitten, of this he was sure.  And what hope he had within him would wane, as Pippin's had, as Rohan's.  But what hope remained outside of him, he would cling to for as long as he could, and desperately protect.  This was Aragorn and his strength.  Legolas had decided that as long as Aragorn's eyes were closed, his would remain open.  He would protect Estel, the very last of his hope.

      "You did not sleep, did you?" were the first words sprung from Aragorn's mouth, even before his eyes opened, feeling Legolas's presence beside him.

      "You snore very loudly, you see," Legolas said, mock-gravely.

      "I apologize," the King grunted as he raised himself to his elbows, studying his friend closely, though he let the subject drop.  Legolas always had his own reasons for doing the things he did, and revealed them on his own time.  They had been friends long enough for Aragorn to know that.

      "That had been a most exciting evening, hadn't it?" Sam commented, sitting in front of Legolas and Aragorn, trailed by Merry and Frodo.  The hobbits all had their cans of breakfast, and had offered one each to Legolas and Aragorn.

      "I've already had my share, thank you," Legolas lied.  He did not have much of a care for mortal cooking, much less now.

      "Could Merry and I share this can, you think?" Sam asked, "Or should we return it?"

      "I think hobbits need all the food they can get, Sam," Legolas said with a wan smile.

      "To grow taller, eh?" snickered Merry.

      The group ate in silence for some moments.

      "It's a pretty long way still to Moria, isn't it?" Frodo asked, "I've been wondering how you are planning to overcome the obstacles there that our last visit had created."

      "Obstacles?" Aragorn asked as he munched through his food.  The statement had sounded typically-Frodo, very diplomatic.  He wondered what could be going through the hobbit's mind.

      "You know," replied Sam, "The caved-in entrance, the broken bridges, the goblins and trolls…"

      "We've more soldiers with us now," replied Aragorn, "We have ropes, and other gear.  I would not bring us there if I did not think we had a chance, my dear hobbits."

      "Sounds good to me," Merry grinned.

      Legolas watched the interplay between Estel and the hobbits.  They gave him so much trust, and he held up against such burdens so comfortably.  Aragorn was estel to them all, and this only reaffirmed Legolas' new duty.  Protect Aragorn at all costs, because his hope, and that of others', rested on the King.

* * *

      Since they began to travel with the rising of the sun, the company did not stop until high noon, and only for a moment because the hobbits needed their lunch; a fair request, considering they had heroically missed their second breakfast, and would probably miss tea and supper as well, since the company stopped virtually for nothing.

      The hobbits, and some of the soldiers, contentedly munched on some fruits that they had taken from trees that they had passed. 

      "Legolas, do you want one?" Merry asked the elf, who was riding just in front of him and Sam.

      Aragorn heard this, and glanced sideways at his old friend who not only didn't reply to the hobbit's question, but in afterthought, had not uttered a word in the last hour.  The elf's eyes were open and glazed, as elves slept, and his horse Arod loyally kept his steps steady, noticing his master's inattention.

      "Shh," Aragorn said to the hobbits quietly, "he did not get a wink of sleep last night."

      Aragorn's brows furrowed in thought.  It was not like Legolas to be so inattentive along a dangerous road.  But then again, perhaps it was only because he had not slept the previous night, and had been hard at travel since he had arrived in Gondor days and days ago.  Elves were wonderfully, enviably resilient, but they certainly were not invincible.  Perhaps.

      "I heard my name," Legolas said suddenly, blinking a few times and becoming fully awake.

      "I'm sorry I woke you," Merry said, "but since you are awake already, I thought I might interest you with a fruit."

      "No thank you," Legolas said, throwing a smile at the hobbit, before turning to Aragorn sheepishly, "I'm sorry to be so lax, Estel."

      "Do not be," Aragorn said soothingly, noticing that the elf was calling him by his other name more and more lately, "I think you have pushed yourself hard enough, you deserve even more rest than you got just now."

      "Arod's feet are so light," Legolas commented, patting his horse's neck, "It is rhythmic, relaxing."
      "I wish I could be as comfortable on a horse," Sam said with a wince, "I feel all-bruised."

      "Good thing it all eventually becomes numb," Merry said, paused and suddenly remarked, "I miss Pippin and all his complaining."

      "We shall see him soon, Merry," Frodo said reassuringly, "And have him back to his old self in no time."

* * *

      The company had passed through the Shire, and crossed Brandywine at Sarn Ford, veering from the course that led to Bree, much as the men may have wanted to sample the hospitalities of the infamous Prancing Pony Inn.  From there, they had stopped along the springs of Hoarwell for the evening, looking across the river at the fallen lands of Eregion, where elf-smiths had once lived, and now of no trace could be found, being an empty forest.

      "Eregion is still much burdened with its history," Legolas said breathlessly, feeling the stir of the air, achingly empty.

      "After Eregion," said Gandalf, "We near the West Gate of Moria."

      Merry looked at the old wizard curiously, "Does it bother you any to return there, Gandalf?"

      The wizard pondered the question for a moment.  "I am not bothered.  I am almost curious."

      "At least we would not have to deal with the balrog this time," Frodo said.

* * *

      They had set up camp near the springs, where the freshest water was abundant.  They were quite near to Rivendell, though Aragorn found it prudent not to make any stops that they did not need; they were pressed for time as it was.

      As they settled the camp and started a warming fire, Aragorn noticed that Legolas was nowhere to be found.  The elf, always busy and about, had gone off on his own for some strange thing.  Looking around, Aragorn's eyes settled on the familiarly lithe figure of his old friend some distance away from the camp, sitting upon a curved branch of an old tree that rooted next to the river, its branches extending right over the spring waters.

      Never taking his eyes off the elf, Aragorn let his seasoned men continue the preparations of camp and sauntered over to Legolas.  The elf had noticed his arrival, and looked down at the King from the comfortable branch he perched upon.  There was a glow about the moon, heightened by its reflection on the river.  It turned Legolas's face ashen, his hair silver, his eyes glinting.  In that light, he streamed with the power of his kin.

      "You sure know to pick your spots," Aragorn commented from the ground, studying the tree and wondering how to make his way up.

      "I'll come down," Legolas told him, reading his face.

      Aragorn raised an eyebrow at him.  "Are you undermining my skills?"

      "Of course not," Legolas said, sighing in consternation.  But he watched his friend make his way up the tree with so much intensity, as if he feared the King would fall.

      Aragorn reached his side without incident, and sat with him in companionable silence.  The sight was breathtaking indeed, the moon against the river, the dark lands glowing dimly in the night.

      Legolas seemed captured by it, his usually sharp eyes dull as he stared.  He was absently running his right hand across his left forearm, as if deep in thought.

      "Are you cold?" Aragorn asked.

      "Hm?" Legolas said distractedly, looking at Aragorn, "What?"

      "Rubbing your arms," Aragorn pointed out, "As if you were cold."

      "Elves don't get cold," Legolas reminded him, "Or at least, not unless the conditions were truly, truly unbearably harsh."

      Legolas stopped rubbing his forearm, fearing that Aragorn would notice the bite.  Estel was a sharp man.  Legolas was surprised he did not yet know by now. 

      They fell into silence again, though Legolas could practically hear Aragorn's tumultuous thoughts.

      "I'm sorry, my friend," Aragorn said softly, at last, and Legolas knew by that infernal tone that his sentence had been pronounced, "I should have been more attentive.  I should have known sooner.  But I feared the possibility so greatly that I may have pushed it to the back of my mind…"
      "Maybe it does not have an effect on elves," Legolas remarked, though they both knew it was a lie, just as they both knew what the other was talking about, without expressly stating it.

      "Let me see," Aragorn said, and very much like the mighty King that he was, he took the elf's forearm without really awaiting permission.  He pushed back the layers of sleeves of Legolas's tunic, and found the blistering twin punctures surrounded by a dark bruise.

      "Does it hurt?" Aragorn asked.

      "Nothing that would bother me," replied Legolas, "Truly!" he insisted upon Aragorn's measuring, skeptical look.

      Aragorn drew out his pack, and his athelas and bandages, beginning to work on the wound immediately.

      "Maybe it will not affect me," Legolas said again, a smile resting upon his voice, "since I am getting the royal treatment.  Kingsfoil from the King! Miracles abound, for sure!"

      "You are terribly insolent and obnoxious," Aragorn said, struggling with a straight face.

      "You sound like my ada," Legolas remarked.

      "I sound like my ada," Aragorn chuckled, tying the wound securely.  They were chuckling, and trying to make light of the situation, though Legolas realized belatedly that Estel's hands shook slightly, and the bandages were wound too tight, as if he could hide them, and bind them, and press them until they vanished.

      "It's too tight, Estel," Legolas told him softly.

      "I'm sorry," Aragorn said, his quick hands redoing the bandages, "I must be losing my touch."

      Legolas thought about letting the subject drop for a moment, before finally deciding against it.

      "Do not fear for me, Estel," Legolas told him quietly.

      "How can I not?" Aragorn grunted distractedly, finishing up with the bandages, though he studied them still, as if he could not look Legolas in the eye.  Legolas pulled his arm away from Aragorn's hands and watched him closely, willing him to look at his face.

      "Because I will not let this take me," Legolas said, "I may lose my hope, but I have not lost my sense of duty.  I have set out to protect this land, and my friends, and in that I will not fail, or stop."

      "You swear to this?" Aragorn asked intently, "by your name.  By your honor.  You swear this to me, and I will not fear."

      Legolas weighed this request carefully.  Was it his promise to make? Was his strength so true? Was his will so great?  Would it be enough?

      "I swear."

      They fell into silence again, a silence now more potent, so powerful was it, as if their words and all that they entailed hung in the air with all their conviction.

      Suddenly, cries from the camp pierced the calm night, and the two warriors jumped from the places and ran into camp, weapons drawn.

      There were no enemies in sight, though the foul scent in the air guaranteed the plague had stirred the night once again.

      Moving ahead of Aragorn, Legolas followed the scent and released another arrow.  It did not meet its mark; the lizard was cunning.  But it discouraged it, and it flew away in its usual flapping and screeching.

      Surveying the camp, it was very clear that though the threat was quickly dispersed, it had already done its damage.  Four out of ten of Aragorn's men had been bitten. 

      Balling his fists in frustration, Aragorn's mind raced as he formulated a contingency plan. 

      "We cannot afford to have them on this road," Aragorn's second-in-command told him, "This is Moria, sire.  And their condition will deteriorate, though it may not be manifest now."

      Aragorn glanced up at Gandalf, as if waiting for him to suggest something.  The wizard all but shrugged at him. 

      "Send them to my father in Rivendell, at first light," Aragorn said, "The four who are bitten, plus two men to tend to them.  They will be welcomed in Rivendell and looked after.  Leave four of the unhurt soldiers with us to go to Moria.  I will trust your discretion in picking who."

      The second-in-command nodded, immediately turning towards his duties.  Aragorn was looking pointedly at Legolas, who was staring at him intently.

      ~Do not send me to Rivendell, Estel,~ Legolas told Aragorn in Elvish, in a low voice.  Gandalf stared at the elf, knowing what the words meant: Legolas was himself bitten.

      ~I swore to you this would not take me,~ Legolas said, ~that this would not jeopardize our quest.  And I can sense the plague.  You need me.~

      Aragorn studied the elf's face.  Yes, they needed him, there was little doubt of that.  In the deep darkness of Moria, nothing but the elf's astute senses could offer him assurance.  But it seemed… Legolas needed them too.  He needed the mission to focus on, he needed a duty, because his hopes had left him.  His duties gave him a purpose without which he would surely fall into despair, that aching despair that made less-stubborn folk succumb to the bite of the plague.

      ~I swore to you,~ Legolas repeated.

      "Let the crazy young Prince come," Gandalf said wearily, "he knows his limits.  He knows himself."

      ~I'll take your word,~ Aragorn said to his friend gravely, ~You had just better keep it.~

      ~When did I not?~ Legolas replied, his eyes grateful.

      "We all set out for our own paths at dawn," Aragorn said.

TO BE CONTINUED

PREVIEW OF PART 6, "New Allies, New Enemies."

      The orcs decide to take advantage of the weakness of men, and a pair of twins decide to go along for the quest to save Middle-Earth…

A SCENE FROM PART 6

            ~Estel had better capture that cursed curse soon,~ Elrohir concluded, his tone thoughtful as he considered coming along…

      ~We leave for Moria in the morning?~ Elladan asked his twin reading his mind.  Elrohir immediately nodded.

      Elrond had given up trying to save his sons from themselves.  He could only trust that he had raised them well.  But he did not have to pretend to be pleased about it.  He scowled shamelessly.

      ~I bet the Prince of Mirkwood is in this adventure as well,~ Elrohir said.

      ~Look at ada's face,~ Elladan teased his father, ~He is considering forming a club of frustrated fathers with King Thranduil.~

      ~A club of overburdened fathers, Elladan,~ Elrond sighed, ~Look after each other.  Be safe.~