Black Death

Warning done with author on coffee, coffee makes author tired, and very cruel.

Thousands now have parished,
More numbers then the sick.
Families turn on families,
Neighbors against Neighbors.
Wild accusations fly,
But none know the reason why.

(*)

Legolas walked down the halls of the Rivendell house. Behind him was a water trail that eventually would have to be cleaned up. Even though Legolas was still in a bad mood, he still caught the site of a figure brooding in the window. It was Elrohir by the looks of it. Respectively Legolas approached him, knowing the sloshing of his clothes would have gave away his presence by now. Still Elrohir didn't move from his perch, it was like he was imitating a stone statue.

"Hello friend, what might be troubling you?" Legolas asked.

"Go away." Elrohir grumbled.

"Nay my friend, I will not go away till you tell me what ills you."

"Just like you Mirkwood elves not to listen when someone tells you to leave." Elrohir snapped leaving the window abruptly. "Bloody elf."

Legolas grabbed Elrohir by the shoulder, before he could contain his temper Legolas slapped him. The sound echoing through the room. Elrohir stood startled, as Legolas' elf eyes pierced him coldly. He did not take kindly to other elves being rude, or insulting. Shamefully Elrohir looked at his hands, turning them palm up.

For the first time Legolas saw what the twin was hiding. Scared hands that were shriveled, nothing like there former selves. Some places there were deep pits were most of the skin had been lost. The skin ranged from bright pink, to a brownish color depending on how badly the skin was damaged. These marks were most definitely burns by the look of them. Legolas closed his mouth he realized was open.

"Orcs?" Legolas said lightly touching the skin.

Elrohir pulled away, "No, some humans despite the odds captured father, and Estel." Elrohir sighed. "A fire started and I could not leave Estel to burn to death... In exchange for saving his life fates made me a useless elf, a cripple."

"Nay they haven't dear friend. They look bad yes, but your hands are well taken care of. They should heal with time without a doubt." Legolas said matter of factually. "I must go change my clothes, don't give up Elrohir."

(*E*)

Elrond stared at the sleeping form on the bed. The young boy had fainted again in the tub, his fever was reluctant to pass. It seemed to grow worse with the time. Skillfully Elrond mixed the herbs Glorfidel had brought him. Over the fire a pot was set to heat. Getting a nice think paste, he spread some herbs over the boils, then wrapped them. Least he could do was try to stop the swelling.

"Lord Elrond, I'm sorry to disturb you, but we got a human mob wanting to talk to you." Figwitt announced from the door.

"Is it that important it can't wait?" Elrond asked.

Figwitt paused, "Well if you wish us to kill all of the humans we can."

"No," Elrond sighed annoyed, "I'll go. Watch Estel Figwitt."
'
Tucking in the small form, Elrond prepared himself to face the pesky humans. Elrond kissed Estel on the forehead then trudged out the door. How much he hated to leave his son side in this conditions. But he was still a leader, a figure head, he couldn't just abandon his duties.

Outside he herd the cries of the humans, they accused the elves of bringing this disease upon them. A highly unlikely possibility. Glorfidel and another elf opened the gates so Elrond could face the people outside. They were armed with pitch forks, swords, touches, bows, frying pans, and who knows what else. One of the humans stepped forward, a human in his mid-thirdys dusty brown hair.

'You brought this upon us elf!" The man said in his tongue.

'I'm sorry you think that, but we have not.' Elrond said in a neutral tone.

'Then why isn't your kind getting sick?' He shouted.

'I'm sorry you think that everyone in Rivendell is not sick.' Elrond said trying not to loose his cool. 'My son right now is very sick, and faces dying at the hands of this plague too.'

'Liar!' The man spat.

The crowd rose to a roar, chaos was once again rising. The humans were dead set on destroying the elves. Elrond opened his mouth to speak, but he felt a pain in the head. Then was surprised as he felt something wet ran down his forehead. Raising his head he touched the substance. It was sticky yet smooth, and red... Red?

"Lord Elrond?" Glorfidel asked, but it sounded distant. "Close the gate!"

Glorfidel pressed a piece of cloth to Elrond's forehead. Helping the elf lord to sit down on a bench close by. He noticed that Elrond was dazed, but not badly hurt. Some human in that crowd had a sling shot, it wouldn't surprise him if Elrond needed a few stitches.

"Can you walk?"

"Yes," Elrond said.

Keeping his hand tightly on the wound, Glorfidel helped Elrond into the house. He could feel the blood fill the cloth, and stick to his fingers. That human had some aim, or a really good sling shot. Outside he could hear some elves begin to sing. Crude, but it would at least make the pesky humans tired.

Figwitt looked up as Glorfidel entered the room. All he saw was him helping Elrond, and blood running from a stained cloth. All his experience with the boys, that much blood meant get the needle and thread. He hurried out of the room, gathered the supplies and hurried back. Not bothering to listen to his rule about not running in the halls. Entering the room he saw Glorfidel already cleaning the wound. The blood coming faster then he could wipe away.

"Thank you." Glorfidel said taking the thread.

With the skill of a seem stress Glorfidel threaded the needle and began to sew Elrond's forehead. Elladan ran into the room having herd of trouble. Looking a bit confused at Glorfidel who calmly stitched his father's head. All he could really see was the amount of blood on Elrond's tunic, and on his face. Without missing a stitch Glorfidel recognized Elladan in the door.

"Be a help Elladan for once, get your father a clean tunic." Glorfidel teased.

"Father?" Came a little voice.

"It's all right." Elrond said instinctively.

"I need a hug." Estel pouted.

"Yes, you can have him I'm done." Glorfidel said cutting off the extra string.

Elrond grabbed a wet cloth wiping the blood off his face, then took Estel in his arms. Soon enough Estel was back to sleep, he wasn't wake lately, his body was to weak. When Elladan returned with his tunic, Elrond switched off. Elladan held Estel as his father changed tunics. Elrond's heart sunk deeper seeing his son rock his brother. He had almost forgotten how much his sons treasured their brother. What would they do without him? If Estel died from the plague how would he tell his sons he failed?

Elrond watched as Elladan lay Estel into bed like one of Arwen's little dolls. At that time he lost it, tears broke free streaming down his face. He couldn't face the uncertainty of loosing little Estel, he promised his father he wouldn't, and when his mother left Rivendell he promised her he'd care for him. Elrond had to face he had to certain way to save Estel of this, thousands were dying on Middle Earth of the same illness.

"Father what is wrong?"

"I can't loose him." Elrond cried.

"Your not going to loose him father, you know Estel won't die till is me or Elrohir's fault." Elladan tried to soothe his father.

Glorfidel shook his head at Elladan, what he said only made Elrond cry harder. The lord was having a break down at the worst time. Angry Elladan crossed the room, back handing his father before Figwitt and Glorfidel could catch on. Elrond's face jerked to the side with a slap. The tears freezing with the shock Elrond felt of being slapped.

"Now is not the time father." Elladan growled. "Your not the only one loosing him!"

Both uninvolved elves stood amazed at the site. Elrond grimaced, touching his cheek lightly. Then in a flash he decked Elladan. Elladan yelped and staggered back. Angry Elrond jumped on Elladan, both of them crashing the side table unto the floor. Glorfidel face dropped, quickly he tired to break up the fight. Only to be knocked flat on the as father and son exchanged unpulled punches.

"Elrohir help!" Glorfidel called instinctively.

Hearing his name in an urgent call Elrohir ran into the room. Not knowing what to grab in the frenzy, Elrohir grabbed hair pulling back. His father screamed and tried to struggle out of his grasp. Elladan lunged to get more of his father blood drawn but Glorfidel grabbed him, dragging him out of the room. Like he was nothing more then an orc, Elrohir slammed his father against the wall, holding him securely till he stopped fighting.

(*)

AN: I'm suddenly crushed by the rating I got. I think I'm going to curl up, now and beat my head agianst the wall. This IS my best I can do...