Hey! Three announcements today :)
One: I am so, so honored by your kind reviews! I never expected this, and I hope I will live up to your expectations! :)
Two, did you know that there will be a completely new character in the Hobbit? Her name is Tauriel... and guess who she'll be in love with (acoording to my best internet friend, theButterflyCurse996 :) )
Three, I want to do a little test. Everyone who reads this entry, please put the code-word 'jolly' in your review :P I'm curious who will read this ;) And code-words make it funnier ;)
Angelfabeth: OMG, you couldn't give me a greater compliment :) Thank you! :)
Arwenia: At the moment? Did something happen?
ElrondofImladris: I'll do my best... :P And I loved your review! :) Perhaps a weird question, so if you do not want to, don't answer it, but are you male or female? Cause your penname is male, but the tone of your review is more female... or are you just such a fan of Elrond? :P
ElvesAreEpic: I totally agree with your penname ;) Well, perhaps you won't like this... :P
Imaginariamente: Thank you! :)
LotrNienna: Haha, I had to think about Thor when you said that ;) Do you know it?
Mary Corleone Mancini: Here you go! :P You aren't Italian by chance?
Muirgheal-of-Lantern-Waste: Yeah, favorite activity of mine ;) Thanks for the correction, I adjusted the chapter already ;)
Ne'ith5: I love your penname! Where does it come from?
Nightrunner144: I will, for sure :)
The lost warrior: Thank you :)
Ynnealay: Well, you know me :P
"Arwen, my love, please do try to talk some sense in that stubborn head of his!"
"In all honesty, Legolas, I do think… –"
"C'mon, Arwen, don't tell me you're taking his side too!"
"Yes, she is, 'cause she knows that I'm right! You have to… -!"
"I don't have to do anything! I am not one of your subjects!"
"But he is your friend!" Arwen exclaimed suddenly. The cry from a queen who rarely raised her voice, effectively ended their heated discussion. Both Legolas and Aragorn shut their mouths, and the elf had the decency to look slightly ashamed. Arwen softened her voice.
"We are only worried about you, Legolas. We know nothing about this disease, save that it spreads so terribly quickly, and we have no idea whether there is a cure or not. I promise you we will keep searching for one, but you must understand we will be more at ease when we know you are safe."
The elf sighed, not meeting her eyes. He stared out of the window to the plains around the White City, to a place only he could find. Aragorn wondered what he was seeing. Fair Ithilien, only recently reclaimed from the darkness? Or the sick elves who were dying some meters beneath them? Or a destroyed Greenwood, empty and void once the plague will have spread there? For sooner or later, if they didn't find a remedy, the plague would leave the white walls to bring death and sorrow to the few elves still left in Middle-Earth. Still, if Legolas went to Ithilien, they would buy some precious months, in which perhaps they would find a cure, or the illness itself would fade away. The elf's next words however, broke that fragile hope.
"I understand your concerns, Arwen. But can you not understand me? I cannot flee when my people are dying. I am their prince, and it was my father who sent them here! My place is among them, not in Ithilien."
"I am fairly certain none of the elves in my city will resent you if you chose not to take unnecessary risks. They love you, Legolas, as we love you. Do not inflict grief upon us by reckless decisions. Go to your home, and search for a cure there." A pained expression glided over the elf's fair features, and his voice betrayed regret.
"In Ithilien there are only warriors, Undomiel. Of course there are healers too, but they know only how to cure wounds inflicted in battle, or how to make antidotes to different kinds of known poison. Although I do not belittle their wisdom nor their efforts, they aren't as skilled a healer as Lord Elrond or you, Aragorn. If you don't find a cure, neither will they."
"You are not a healer either, Legolas."
"Neither am I a coward." Aragorn exhaled audibly.
"Making a wise decision doesn't question your courage."
"I don't care. I will stay here, in Minas Tirith, with my people." Aragorn opened his mouth to object, but Arwen put a hand upon his shoulder and smiled sadly.
"Let it rest, my love. You know his stubbornness. He will not leave."
"Thank you, Arwen," Legolas inclined his head rather smugly. "Now that this is settled, I would like to talk to Elentìriel."
"Out of the question! She has been in contact with the ill and she might as well be affected herself. It's too dangerous!"
"She has been with them since the moment they became sick. Days have passed since then, and even though other, newly arrived elves have fallen to the plague as well, she still shows no signs! Something is protecting her, Aragorn! And we need to find out what."
"I will talk to her."
"And I will come with you."
"Why are you so determined to die?" Aragorn exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "Since you won't leave Minas Tirith, grant me this one favor. Do not go to her!" Legolas sighed, and remained in thought for a few seconds. Then he looked up, calmer then he had been during the discussion.
"Let us agree. I will not go into her room, but I will stand upon the balcony, in open air. The chance that I will become infected is reduced to a minimum then. Can you live with that?"
"Not really, but I guess it's the best option I get. But I demand that you give me time to examine her first. If I find only the slightest indication she might be sick, our deal is off. Done?"
"Agreed."
"Then let us go. I want to get this over as soon as possible."
They couldn't find her immediately though. Elenìriel seemed to spend most of her time caring for the patients, and that afternoon, she had gone to the lower levels of the city, to see whether there were any herbs on the markets there that could help the ill. It was evening when she came back, a basket in her hand filled with scented flowers and fresh herbs.
Her face became pale with shock when she saw Legolas standing upon her balcony –because of her lateness and her sudden entrance, the two friends were already in her room waiting for her, so that Aragorn hadn't the chance to examine her before allowing Legolas near her. He prayed that the fresh air would prove healthy enough. Elentìriel didn't seem to agree with his thoughts though. She backed away, as far as she could from Legolas, and threw an accusing glare at Aragorn.
"My lord! You shouldn't have come here! You could become sick, and what then? I really do not understand how you could have let him come here, Estel!" she rebuked the man. Clearly, his new status as king didn't impress the she-elf who had played with him when he was only a little child. Aragorn sighed.
"I think I could rather drag a mûmakil through a river than dissuade Legolas to do something when his mind is set upon it. You know that."
"And besides, you're spending a lot of time with the ill as well. Are you not worried you will get infected?"
"I have been with them for so long. If the Song had wanted it, I would have fallen ill a long time ago. But apparently, I am protected. Do not ask me for what reason, for I do not know." Her voice was sad as she spoke, and made it clear she would have rather shared the fate of her companions and friends than to helplessly watch them suffering, unable to prevent it or to sooth them. Legolas moved closer to comfort her, but she backed away again. Aragorn pointed at the elf.
"You. At the balcony. Don't you dare to enter this room." Legolas let out a long-suffering sigh, but complied. Arms crossed, he ignored Aragorn and looked at the she-elf.
"Elentìriel, is there anything that distinguishes you from the others? Anything that might have protected you?"
"I have been thinking about that question since Celcaleb, Sulfalas and Nelladel fell ill, but I can't find anything. I have eaten what they ate, I have drunk what they drank, I have slept near them…" She frowned. "The only possibility I can think of… But that would be ridiculous… "
"What? Elentìriel, whatever you think, you must tell me. I need to know everything!" Aragorn exclaimed.
"Well…" she hesitated, looking around in the room. Then, she slowly walked to a small closet, and after a moment of deliberation, she opened a slide and took something out of it. Her fingers cherished it as she showed it to the two friends. Aragorn's eyes widened a moment in surprise, then he nodded thoughtfully.
"Of course," he mumbled. "The White Flower. That would explain it." Elentìriel though, still seemed doubtful.
"Do you think so? It has been in this closet ever since I received it from you – I didn't dare to take it with me so unprotected. Could it protect me even from here? And why does it only shield me then, and not the others? They have slept in this room too."
"I cannot give you the answers you seek, I fear. But I have the feeling the flower has something to do with your… resistance. I must go to the halls of herbs and flowers, see whether there are more of these. Perhaps an extract of it, or a powder could prove the key to healing."
"Am I allowed to come with you, or do you fear I will become infected by being near herbs that might possibly heal the ill?" Legolas asked dryly. Aragorn raised an eyebrow.
"If I said you couldn't come with me, would you obey?"
"Of course, Elessar," Legolas grinned, "but perhaps you should know that I would take that opportunity to do a little research myself."
"In that case, please come with me, so that at least I can keep an eye on you."
"I'm not a little elfling anymore, Estel."
"Then stop acting as one. Are you coming?"
"Why, here's a grumpy one," Legolas snorted, yet he quickly followed the king through the marble corridors. Within a few minutes, he found himself before towering closets and chests filled with all kind of herbs and flowers. Some were so rare that even the wood-elf didn't recognize them immediately. He turned around in awe, taking in all colors, every structure, every petal, every scent.
"Where did you find all these plants?"
"Travelers, expeditions, traders, Rangers, elves. Some of them Gondor even bought from Saruman, before he fell into evil," Aragorn stated matter-of-factly, concentrating on a high, wooden closet with large windows of glass.
"Now that you're here, you can help me searching. We're looking for a silvery flower, almost as big as your hand."
"I know what a blossom of the White Tree looks like, thank you for your trust in me," Legolas retorted lightly, and let his eyes wander over the numerous shelves and pots. Almost immediately, he spotted numbers of white and silvery herbs and petals, but none of them had to specific form and structure the blossoms of the blessed tree had. Patiently, he turned to another closet, and then another. He opened ancient chests with the rarest of plants, covered with dust and cobwebs. He checked closed jars and turned around bouquets to see whether he hadn't missed a flower. Then he started from the beginning again, even though his eyes were burning and he was slightly dizzy. It was so hot in the room! He wondered whether the heat helped the plants to endure.
Dawn was approaching when Aragorn sighed and straightened.
"This is pointless. If there had been any flowers stored here, we would have found them already. Our only chance is to go to the White Tree."
"I thought you said he didn't bear any blossoms yet."
"I know. But what other option do we have? If will not give up this possible medicine before I know for certain we cannot make it."
"Fine," Legolas sighed, "lead the way." He really didn't want to go to the Tree. He was fairly certain he hadn't seen any blossoms on the grey branches, and he was tired. A bone-deep drowsiness seemed to have slid into his limbs, and he only wanted to go to sleep now. But Aragorn didn't dawdle. Already he had gone through the door and was hastening towards the courtyard. Yawning, the elf followed.
When they arrived, his suspicion was confirmed. The young tree stood tall, his branches stretched towards the grey sky, his crown proudly held high, but his forest green and silver leaves hadn't jewels woven between them yet. Not one flower adored the canopy.
Groaning, Aragorn stared at the symbol of the city with desperate eyes. They had been so close! It could have saved so many lives if there had been only one flower. But it seemed the Valar had abandoned them. He cursed loudly and fell upon his knees, knocking with his hand against the marble stones, the tension of the passed days finally taking its toll.
Legolas didn't notice it really. He just let himself slide down along the trunk and closed his eyes. The wind caressed his face with cool fingers, refreshing his burning head. He sighed softly.
Elf. A content voice filled his head. Legolas smiled lightly.
Blessed tree, he answered, may Yavanna caress your leaves and give you an healthy trunk. Somehow, the traditional words didn't seem quite right, as if he had forgotten words, or replaced them by less lofty ones, but the tree didn't seem to care. His song turned questioning
Your friend. Why is he… raining? Legolas opened one eye. Indeed, it seemed that Aragorn was weeping a little. He frowned in pity, but he couldn't bring himself to get over there and sooth him. He was so tired!
He needs a flower of yours.
Why?
Because it can heal sick elves. The leaves rustled in amazement.
Elves are sick?
Yes.
And my blossom can heal them?
Yes. The tree kept silent for a few minutes. Just as Legolas thought he wouldn't answer anymore, a sad voice echoed between his ears again.
No blossoms. Too early. Legolas sighed, but stroke the elegant trunk gently.
I know. A shadow fell over the elf's face. Surprised, he opened his eyes. Aragorn was kneeling before him, worry in is eyes.
"Legolas? Are you alright? I have been calling you for quite a while. We should go back inside, get some sleep before we go to the library again."
"I'm sorry, I was talking to Telperionion. He cannot give blossoms yet, Estel. It's too early. We need to search for another medicine."
"I understand," Aragorn sighed. He kept staring sadly at the ground for a few seconds, then he shook his head and stood, extending a hand to help Legolas up.
"Com'on, let's go inside." Legolas took his hand, but all of a sudden, he withdrew it quickly as he fell into a coughing fit. Faintly, he heard a cry of horror, but he couldn't answer it. All he could do was trying to get some air into his starving lungs. He gasped desperately and fought to control his coughing… and then it was over. In horror, he stared at his hands. A shocked gasp arose from Aragorn's lips. His fingers were dripping with blood.
The White Tree hadn't protected him from the plague.
Cliffie! Don't kill me!
And don't forget our code ;)
As usual, please review :) I appreciate all of them! :)
xXx Archiril