Black Death

Now some of you are gone,
Small numbers,
But your deaths are still hard.
More numbers to the dead,
More numbers to be buried.

(*)

So the trouble began again. The most versatile bacteria had mutated to insure its survival. Once the strongest of immune system that made an elf virtually unable to get sick, now was under fire. Time had come to remind the elves just how mortal their immortal bodies could be. Still their gods shined down on the elves, for no bacteria can mutate to deadly with in a short time. If they acted swiftly elves may have their chance to wipe out the bacteria before it took any elven lives. Would the lord of Rivendell make the connection in time?

Or will the great race of elves fall?

"Glorfidel." Elrond summoned. "Check the elves for black boils on their necks, if they do quarantine them."

"Yes, Lord Elrond."

"And Glorfidel," Elrond's voice grew heavy. "These humans are our guests make them a meal, I'll provide the spices."

Glorfidel's heart skipped a beat, he knew what Elrond meant by spices. Somberly he turned walking to gather the elves for inspection, and to pick out a few to make the last meal the humans will have. Elrond's stomach lurched violently as he looked towards the frightened humans. It was for the best, he had to remember that.

'Welcome to Rivendell.' Elrond said in there tongue. 'You are my guests, please feel at home. We mean you no harm.'

If only the last part of that as true, if they only meant them no harm. The humans broke apart, beginning to explore. Elrond turned making his way back into his home. There was no need to wait any longer. Alone in his study he mixed the poison, hoping it would be right. A shadow interrupted him, it had to be Legolas.

"I heard that some elves have gotten sick, how can that be?" Legolas asked.

"I don't know Legolas, but it has happened. Just like we can get killed with a sword, arrow, or any other weapon, we can eventually get felled by a disease." Elrond said not looking at Legolas.

"It's a preposterous idea Elrond!" Legolas snapped.

"Legolas!" Elrond pounded his hands on the table, standing up. "I'm sick of your foolish beliefs, if you wish to spend the remainder of this stay in Rivendell in a cell I can easily arrange that."

Legolas drew back, he knew it would be best not to push Elrond further. Though he looked angry most of the time, he was not the one to get angry. Legolas bowed lowly, then left the room. It would be best to say no more and risk the situation getting out of control. Still Legolas had his doubts about elves getting sick. In all his years he had yet to see one get sick without being poisoned. What Elrond was suggesting was a bit to much to digest.

With Legolas gone, and out of mind, Elrond rose from his chair. Pocketing a medium sized vial he sauntered out the door. Wanting to check on his stubborn sons. Something inside him tortured him, reminding of Elrond of the families that remained behind the humans in his court yard. Or families that still remained.

Quietly he peered into the room, Estel was awake looking weak, but awake. Elladan was holding him in his arms, as Elrohir read him his favorite story. Elrond almost rushed in when a giggling fit, turned into a coughing fit. Still he had to remind himself there was nothing he could do for Estel right now. It was best just to let them bond, the twins could care for him for now. Glancing down at the bulge in his pocket Elrond turned from the room, making his way slowly to the kitchens.

Tonight, that is when it will all be over. They will all go peacefully without pain. Still Elrond knew deep within him that some blood would have to fall. How could he sanction such a thing as this? Rivendell was in dire need of a leader, he could not fall to these ill thoughts now.

"Elrond." Glorfidel jogged up beside him. "Twelve elves have been quarantined, and the meal is being prepared."

Elrond took the medium sized vial out of his pocket, slipping it into Glorfidel's hand. It would save him a trip to the kitchens. He after all had to go check on twelve ill elves, ill elves that were sure to be very temperamental. Glorfidel took the vial without a word. Respecting Elrond's wish to remained quiet.

Thus Elrond next made his rounds. Twelve elves with boils on their necks, armpits, groins, or a mixture of places. Some even had it in all places, those seem to feel ill. Three in total, three of the youngest in Rivendell. The other nine were of the younger elves. The older did not seem to get sick, they having been around longer to develop a more complicated immune system. His last stop was to Estel, were he cleaned his open sores, and gave him something to feel better. Then he left.

He needed to be alone, so much weighed on his mind. If only his sons knew of lay ahead they would be more accepting of him leaving. Instead they made up wild idea's in their heads why he left. Ranging from he wanted to detach from Estel, or he didn't want to get sick himself.

"Why did father leave?" Estel asks. "I want father!"

"Hush now Estel, father will be back." Elrohir says. "Rest for now and he'll be back before you know it."

(*)

AN: Know this chapter sucks, but in low spirits. Really like to know what people think, but yeah oh well.Oh yeah and I forgot to give Pookems1971 pashal credit for last chapter.