Stories > Series
> Previous Story "Black
Breath" > "Sickness"
> Next Story "The Seventh Stone"
G
I
may not understand what you feel,
I may never walk your road,
But I will stand beside you while you
heal,
I will share your load.
All my strength I will bid you,
All the care I can send,
No matter what we go through,
Because you are my friend.
--Cassia
Elrond watched his human son carefully. The
ranger had joined the
breakfast table that morning, moving slowly as though he ached or was
tired and his quirky responses lacked the spark and normal sarcasm that
decorated the brothers' conversations. When he smiled the
laughter didn’t reach his eyes, eyes that held a slightly glazed look
to them. None of the three younger elves seemed to notice
Aragorn’s lack of energy.
The older elf had seen his son act this way before
on a few
occasions. He hoped he was wrong but his fears were confirmed
when Celboril cleared the breakfast dishes and the young man quietly
thanked the servant, folding his arm on the table and laying his head
down on them.
Elladan and Elrohir had already pushed their chairs
back and were
heading for the door. They had all planned a day of hunting and
were eager to be out.
Legolas stopped on the threshold and turned back,
glancing at his friend
who hadn’t moved.
“Aragorn?” The fair-haired elf called to the
human, “Aren’t you
coming?”
With a sigh the ranger pushed slowly back from the
table and answered
without looking back, “Yeah, just give me a moment.”
Elrond shook his head. Smiling softly he
rounded the table and
approached his son. “I think not. I recognize that look in your eyes,”
he quietly countered his son’s answer.
Aragorn ducked as his father reached out to touch
his forehead.
“No, I’m fine. Really.”
But the elven lord was not easily evaded and he
quickly grabbed the
boy, holding him still with his hands, one on the back of his head and
one wrapped carefully around his forehead. “I think not,” he
repeated himself. Heat radiated off the young human. “I
believe you will be sitting this hunting trip out.”
The ranger wrapped his hand around his father's,
trying to move out of
the elf’s grip. “Really, I am fine.”
Legolas had become worried and stepped back into the
dining hall.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’ll join you in a minute.”
“Estel,” Elrond’s voice was firm. “You are not going
out sick.”
“Sick?” Legolas questioned curiously. It was a
phenomenon that
elves never experienced sickness and so it was often difficult for them
to understand.
“Do you have to repeat everything he says?” Aragorn
snapped testily.
Elrond glanced up at the Sinda elf and smiled.
“Estel is sick.
It’s something that happens often to humans. He’ll be alright but he
needs to rest.”
“Yeah only
humans,” the ranger muttered darkly. “Lucky us.”
“It also makes them rather grumpy.” The older
elf smiled down at
the ranger he still held. Moving his hands down to the young
man’s shoulders he raised an eyebrow at the frown the man turned on
him.
With a sigh, Aragorn relented, “Yes I am
sick.” He rested his
head in his hands. “And I am grumpy, I hate being sick. I feel
awful, but I was rather hoping you wouldn’t notice.”
Elladan and Elrohir re-appeared in the doorway,
ready and eager to be
off. When they saw the faces of their father and Legolas they
sobered immediately. Elrohir walked into the room, taking note
that their brother was still seated at the table. “Estel?
What’s wrong?”
“I’m sick,” the human growled quietly.
The twin knelt beside the ranger and tipped his head
down so he could
see into the man’s eyes. They were weary and glazed with
fever.
“You are. I hadn’t noticed before.”
Aragorn smiled slightly. “I didn’t want you to.”
“You can’t go out sick. You know what will
happen.”
The ranger rolled his eyes and looked to the far
wall.
“What happens?” Legolas asked quietly, worried
about the answer
he would receive. It was in fact his first experience with a sick
person. That is, one who was not ill because they had been
injured or poisoned, but simply sick for what seemed to the elven mind
to be no reason at all.
“They die,” Elladan spoke from the back of the
room a wicked grin
on his face as he joked.
“Elladan!” Elrond glared at the twin and pressed
Aragorn down into his
seat as the ranger turned towards his brother.
The elf was laughing helplessly. “I’m sorry. I know.
It’s not funny.
I’m sorry, Estel,” he quickly apologized.
“Just get out of here,” Aragorn yelled at him.
“It's okay Estel.” Elrohir touched his knee
gently. “We’ll all
stay home.” He smiled softly.
“No, just go.” Aragorn glanced back at his
brother, “and take
Legolas with you. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” The elf prince
crossed his arms and
looked between the elves and the man. “Tell me, what happens to humans
when they get sick?” he asked again imploring Elrond for a
truthful answer.
“Well in most cases, the illness just runs its
course.” Elrond
gazed back down at Aragorn who was watching him; a slight frown marred
his face. “They feel very bad and aren’t able to do much.
If they do push themselves they can get even more sick and if left
without attention and medicines, it is possible they could die, but
highly unlikely.” He smiled at the human as the man dropped his
gaze and stood slowly to his feet.
Elrohir stood gracefully to his feet, watching the
human cautiously.
“The last time Estel was sick he went out hunting anyway. He
wouldn’t tell anybody and he came back worse. He was in bed for a
week.”
Aragorn grimaced and touched his stomach, turning
away from the others
in the room, but the small motion had not been hidden from his father
who grabbed the young man’s elbow and gently pulled him back around.
“How much did you eat?”
“Enough,” the ranger ground out, closing his eyes
tightly shut as
nausea threatened to overwhelm him. The muscles in his jaw
clenched, as his stomach rejected what he had eaten. He tried
holding his breath and thinking of other things but it was to no
avail. There was no way he was keeping down the food he had had
for breakfast and he pushed quickly passed his brothers, taking the
steps two at a time and heading for the refreshing room in his
bedroom.
“What is it?” Legolas watched him worriedly.
Elrond grabbed Elrohir and pushed him towards the
kitchen. “Go ask
Celboril to make some of that tea that settles the stomach,
quickly.” He turned to Elladan and smiled ruefully at the twin,
“You go be useful and fetch more wood for Estel’s fireplace.
Bring the extra blankets while you are at it,” he called after
the elf as he moved quickly out of the room.
“Lord Elrond, please!” Legolas was highly
frustrated at being
left in the dark about his friend’s condition.
The elf lord smiled softly at the prince. “I take it
this is the first
time you have ever been around a sick human?”
“Yes.” He trailed the older elf as they
quickly mounted the
stairs. “What is it like to be sick?”
“Well I take it that it is quiet uncomfortable…it's
hard to explain
Legolas. Elves have no reference point. When humans get
ill, they often cannot eat, they ache, they are cold and then get
hot. Not unlike the fevers induced by poisoning that you have
experienced, but not to worry. Estel will be fine.” Elrond glanced over
his shoulder at the elf. “He’ll probably be glad for your
company.”
“What do I need to do?”
“There is nothing you can do, except sit with
him.” They reached
Estel’s bedchamber and the elf lord stopped the prince in the
bedroom. “I’ll go see to him. Stay here until we come
out.”
With a nod Legolas glanced around wondering what he
could do to be of
help.
Elrond found Aragorn seated on the floor, his head
resting against the
cool stone bowl situated on the far wall, one hand wrapped protectively
around his stomach, the other holding him upright. He didn’t move
when he heard his father enter. He hated being sick; it was
embarrassing when your body betrayed your weakness especially in the
company of a people who could not even relate to what you were
experiencing.
The elf knelt behind the man and brushed the human's
hair away from his
face, placing one large hand on Aragorn’s back.
The ranger swallowed hard, trying to calm down; his
breathing was quick
and labored.
“Estel?”
There was no answer, he simply nodded his
head.
“Alright then. Why don’t you get back into
bed?” Elrond’s
hand moved gently across his back in soothing circles.
Again only a simple nod.
Slowly Aragorn moved back and stood to his feet
following his father
out of the bathroom. He looked up sheepishly at Legolas.
The elf started forward but Aragorn held up his
hand, waving his friend
off. He crawled into bed and curled into himself facing the far
wall as his father pulled the sheets back up over him.
“Ah I see the young one is sick again.” Celboril
entered the bedroom
cheerfully, a mug of warmed tea in his hands. “I’ve brought
something to make you feel better in no time Estel.”
Aragorn rolled over and smiled a lopsided grin at
the servant. “Great,
thanks.”
When Celboril left the ranger glared at the older
elf. “I am not
drinking that. I can’t keep anything down.”
“Estel, your body needs it. You will dehydrate
easily in the state you
are in and it will help settle your stomach.”
The human shook his head no the entire time the elf
lord spoke.
Legolas interrupted them both, a smile stretching
across his face as he
approached the bedside. Both human and elf stopped to watch as
the prince sat on the edge of the bed and took the mug in his
hands.
He looked up over his shoulder at Elrond and smiled
brilliantly at the
elf lord. “I can be of use here. I know how to do this.” The
cryptic answer caused the older elf to smile and step back. He
crossed his arms and watched as Legolas glanced down at his
friend.
Aragorn was glowering at the prince.
“Drink it.” Legolas held the mug out towards
him.
The ranger stared hard at the prince. He
wasn’t even sure he
could keep it down and he had no intentions of throwing up again with
his friend around.
Smiling dangerously the elf leaned forward and spoke
quietly, his face
right next to the ranger's as he did so. “You drink it now or I
will make a scene and force you to. And you know good and well
that I will, human.” He whispered the words softly in the man’s
ear. It was not the first time they had had this particular
conversation and Legolas’ grin was full of meaning.
From his vantage point Elrond could not see Legolas’
face nor could he
pick up the words even with his sharp elven hearing, but he watched as
Aragorn tried to suppress a grin, a soft chuckle breaking from the
ranger’s lips.
The human turned his face towards the elf’s and
whispered back just as
softly, his breath moving the strands of blonde hair that hung down,
“This is my house and I don’t
have to here. You can’t make me
do anything here that I don’t want to.”
Legolas laughed softly. Freeing one of his
hands from the mug he
grabbed the side of the human’s face and held his friend still as he
whispered back, “I can and I will. I know how. Shall I go
fetch your brothers and perhaps the serving staff? I’m sure they’d love
to watch. Or should we just keep this between you and me and your
father?”
Aragorn laughed and pushed his friend away. “You
wouldn’t!?” He
groaned as his stomach twisted.
“I would.” Legolas smiled down at his friend.
When the ranger
just watched him, the elf drew in a breath of air and turned towards
the doorway as though to call the rest of the house to him.
“No wait!” Aragorn grabbed his arm, wrapping his
fingers around the
warm mug and jerking it out of his friend’s grasp. “I will! Don’t you
dare.”
Elrond watched fascinated, barely concealing his own
laughter.
Legolas raised an eyebrow and tapped the bottom of
the mug with one
slender finger.
“Bratty elf,” the ranger growled playfully, pressing
himself up in bed
and taking a small sip of the tea.
“Stubborn human.” Legolas winked at Elrond
before turning his
attention back to the man. “More, drink more,” he encouraged the
man, who rested against the headboard, pulling his knees up to his
chest, the comforter falling in thick folds about him where he
sat.
“I am very impressed.” Elrond finally spoke, a
huge grin on his
face. “Someday, Legolas, you will have to tell me that secret of
yours. I have never been able to get him to take his medicine,
even as a young child, as easily as you just did.”
“Believe me, my lord, when I tell you it was not
always so.”
Aragorn snickered softly. “I wouldn’t be talking if
I were you. I
remember having to threaten you a time or two myself.”
Legolas glanced back at the large, dark eyes that
watched him.
Aragorn’s eyelids drooped slightly and he blinked slowly, a frown
creasing his brow as he took a good smell of the liquid he was
drinking. He looked at his father accusingly.
“You are already feverish. The sooner we break
the fever the
better,” Elrond explained.
“That’s not fair.”
“What isn’t fair?” Legolas questioned.
“It's not fair I get sick and you don’t,” he
whispered softly as he
tried to set the near empty mug on the table beside the bed.
Legolas caught the cup and righted it as Aragorn’s
fingers slipped
limply from it. His friend lay back on the pillows and watched
the elf lord sleepily. “I hate being sick”.
Elrond leaned close and pushed the ranger's
fever-soaked hair away from
his face. “I know, my son. Rest. Tomorrow you will feel
better.”
With a small nod the human fell asleep, his
breathing shallow and
labored.
Elladan entered with an armload of wood. Two
blankets were
balanced precariously on top of the stack. Elrohir stepped in
behind his brother directing his twin where to walk, as the elf could
not see over the stack of supplies he carried.
“Elrohir!” Elrond glanced incredulously
between the two twins,
“Help your brother!”
“I am.” The elf stopped and stared openly at his
father, “He thought he
could carry everything up the steps so I dared him to. I am helping
him, helping him not to trip.”
A soft curse from the far side of the room attracted
their attention as
Elladan ran into the edge of the chair situated in the corner near the
fireplace. He stumbled forward and barely kept hold of the load
he carried before Elrohir jumped to his side and relieved him of the
blankets piled on the wood.
Elrond shook his head and sighed as the two bickered
quietly between
themselves. Elrohir deposited the blankets on the bed and moved
quickly back to help Elladan with the fireplace. In no time a
small fire warmed the room and cast its glow about the bed
chamber.
Aragorn shivered in his sleep, sweat beading on his
forehead. His
eyes opened and he stared at Legolas, blinking several times before
turning onto his side and sighing.
“He is awake.”
“No.” Elrond pushed the younger elf away and sat on
the bed leaning
over the human. “He sleeps, but he is feverish. We need to break
the fever. I was hoping the herbs would help in that.” The older elf
gently pushed the human onto this back.
“Father,” the twins had stopped in the
doorway. They continued
when the elf lord glanced up at them, “Celboril says the cellar is
empty. We really do need to go hunting today. Moranuen,
Glorfindel and a few of the others are willing to go. May
we?”
“Yes, go ahead.” The elf lord glanced at
Legolas standing quietly
behind him. “Legolas will be here to help me.”
Elladan nodded quietly and the two left.
“What shall I do?” Legolas asked softly, his eyes
lighting back on the
bed that held his friend. Aragorn moaned softly, turning onto his
side once more, a sigh escaping his lips.
“Fetch me some water in that basin.” Elrond
indicated a bowl that sat
on a small table pressed against the far wall, “and a soft cloth. We
need to lower his temperature.”
“Lord Elrond?”
“Yes, Legolas?”
The elf moved quietly about the room gathering what
was requested of
him. “How is that humans get sick?”
Elrond accepted the cloth from the younger elf and
dipped it in the
water bowl, his eyes watching the human he tended. “No one is
really sure. Sometimes when one gets sick another one who is near
him can also get sick. Sometimes I think it has do with the
change in weather or things borne on the air that we cannot see.
Their bodies are not as able as ours are to fight it off.”
He brushed the ranger’s face with the cool cloth,
wiping the sweat from
his brow. Pushing the blankets away from Aragorn’s upper body,
Elrond laid the folded strip of cooled fabric across the young man's
forehead while he unclasped the human’s tunic and opened his
shirt. Estel breathed in deeply as the air touched him and he
swallowed hard, his eyes opening slightly.
Elrond smiled down at the feverish gaze and spoke
softly in
elvish. Whether the human heard him or not Legolas was unsure as
Aragorn turned his face away, his eyes closing once more. The elf
lord took the square of cloth and dipped it back in the bowl, gently
wiping down the ranger’s face and smoothing his hair back out of the
way.
“I have some herbs down in the storage room that
would help.”
Legolas took the cloth from the older elf, “Let me,
you go get the
herbs. You will be able to locate them more quickly than I.”
With a small nod Elrond stood and left the room as
the prince seated
himself beside his friend. Quietly he began to talk to the
ranger.
“So now the roles are reversed, my friend, and it is
who am caring for
you.” He sighed softly to himself as the man moved slightly, his
partly open eyes seeming to fix on the elf. “I see why you hate
being human. It must have been hard growing up in a house where
you were the only one who ever got sick.”
The elf had thought that the man was not listening,
but Aragorn’s eyes
closed and he smiled slightly. Seeing the effect his words had,
Legolas continued, “Do you remember when you rescued me from the
wraith?” As expected there was no answer. “I think that was the
closest I have ever come to being sick. Perhaps I do understand a
little how you feel.”
Elrond stood quietly in the doorway listening as the
prince spoke
softly to his friend.
“Poor Elladan and Elrohir, they probably didn’t know
what to do with
you did they? Iluvatar was watching over you when He gave you to
Elrond, you know that don’t you?” Legolas laughed at his own
thoughts. “Actually I think He was watching over both of us, my
friend. Oh how many times have we drug ourselves back home to your
father? It is a good thing he is so very patient with us.”
“Yes, it is indeed.” Elrond replied, hiding his
humor. He leaned
over the startled prince and sprinkled a handful of herbs into the bowl
the younger elf held, their fresh, sweet scent flooding the room. “I
think Iluvatar was thinking of us all when He brought Estel into our
lives.” The elf lord smiled at the prince, handing him a small
wooden stick, “Stir the herbs please, Legolas.”
“It's not athelas,” the prince commented as
the scent wafted
through the air.
“No, something else. Something more
simple. It always
worked when he was a child.” Elrond watched the human for any
response to the thick, sweet smell. “It's lavender. His mother loved
the
smell. Arathorn used to gather it in bunches at the end of a
day's
hunt to take back to her. I think somehow Aragorn always
remembered it.”
The elf lord seated himself in an overstuffed chair
near the foot of
the bed, relaxing back into it. “It always seemed to calm
Estel.” He smiled as the man relaxed almost imperceptibly
underneath Legolas' light touch as the elf wiped the perspiration from
his brow with the herb-laden cloth.
“It’s working,” he whispered softly.
“Yes it is.” Elrond smiled. “That is
good. His fever should
break soon.”
Aragorn’s shallow breathing slowly deepened and
evened out. In moments
he was simply sleeping.
Elrond stood and grabbed the extra blankets from the
foot of the
bed. “Cover him up so he doesn’t catch a chill. He will be
fine now.” He tucked the thick comforter under the man’s chin,
gently brushing the back of his hand against the human’s cooling cheek
before handing a blanket to the younger elf.
“He’ll be alright?”
“Yes. We need to keep liquids in him for the
next day or so after
he awakens, but he’ll begin to feel better soon.” Elrond walked
back to the fire and placed another log onto it. Sparks showered
upward as the fire leapt around the new addition. “We can leave.
He’ll sleep for a while.”
“May I stay?” Legolas glanced at the elf lord
who was walking
towards the door.
Elrond stopped in the doorway and returned the
steady gaze. “Of course,
Legolas. If you like I will have Celboril bring you something to
eat. The twins should be back shortly. I imagine they will be
eager to keep you company, entertaining you with their exploits no
doubt.” He laughed as he thought of the two elves.
“That would be good. Thank you, Lord
Elrond,” Legolas
answered as he seated himself in the large chair, now vacant.
“If you need anything, you have but to ask.”
Elrond paused once
more.
“When he awakens…?” Legolas was unsure what he would
need to do.
He had no idea what type of care a sick human may need.
“When he awakens just talk to him.” Elrond
smiled at the unsure
elf. “He’ll be in a better mood even if he is a bit sluggish.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The fire had dimmed and its low light cast soft
shadows in the
room. The heat from the flames had lulled Legolas into a light
sleep. Aragorn watched him. He had woken a bit ago, his
mind dulled from the fever and his body aching from the infection it
was fighting off. He was content to lie under the pile of warm
blankets and watch the flames dance in the hearth and the light rise
and fall of his friend’s chest as he breathed shallowly in
sleep. Aragorn's throat was dry and scratchy but he had no desire
to
eat or drink anything, so he contented himself to lie still and let his
mind roam thinking about his family and his friends. He wondered
what his life would have been like had he been raised by humans or even
in an orphanage in one of the larger cities of men, like most children
whose parents died were. Silently he thanked Iluvatar for
bringing him here, home.
The front door opened and slammed shut as the twins
entered, back from
their hunt. The sound startled the prince who woke with a start,
glancing about him, his blue eyes resting on the silver ones that were
watching him.
Aragorn smiled. “I think they are home,” he
whispered, his voice rough
from the dry throat.
“How long have you been awake?” Legolas matched his
tone and sat
forward, leaning his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his
hands.
“A little bit.”
“And you did not wake me?”
“And have you mother me?” Aragorn’s voice rose
slightly.
Legolas rolled his eyes. “Please. I never
mother you.”
“No, that’s Elladan’s job.” Elrohir stepped
lightly into the room,
smiling widely. He sat on the edge of the bed and ruffled the
young man’s hair. “Feeling better?”
Aragorn moved sideways trying to avoid the playful
touch, but he smiled
back at the elf. “Yes. Yes, I am. Why, you need someone to
spot the game for you?” He laughed at the wide-eyed laugh his
response evoked.
“Are you saying, little brother, that we need help
with our
hunting?” Elrohir leaned down and grinned fiercely at the
ranger.
Freeing up one hand from the blankets tucked around
him, Aragorn pushed
the twin lightly back. “Knowing you and Elladan, you probably only got
one buck between the two of you!”
“I heard that!” Elladan stalked into the room and
glanced at the man.
“So you still live?”
Aragorn rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Yes ,my
brother,
unfortunately for you I still do. So that means I am still father's
favorite.” He gave the twin a brilliant smile.
“Brat.” Elladan glowered at him playfully.
“Jealous!” Aragorn threw back at the twin.
“And he is too!” Elrohir ducked as Elladan swatted
at him.
“Whose side are you on?”
“Are we picking sides?” Moranuen leaned into
the room, looking
around the doorframe at his friend.
“Mora, come in!” Aragorn tried to push himself
up in bed, but
Elrohir simply placed his hand on the man’s chest and held him
down.
“Elrohir!” The ranger grabbed his brother’s wrist
and wrenched the
elf’s arm out from under him, unbalancing the twin so that he fell down
across the human's chest.
Legolas could help himself no longer and burst out
laughing.
“You are so clumsy.” Elladan stepped quickly near
the bed and pulled
his brother off of Aragorn.
“Me!?” Elrohir looked between his brother and
Moranuen, “Why
don’t you tell Estel why we
were the only ones unsuccessful today!”
Aragorn couldn’t hide his smile, his eyes darting
between Mora and his
brothers. “Well?”
“It wasn’t my fault!” Elladan glared at his twin who
was laughing at
him. “My horse spooked as we crossed a small game trail and one of
those wild boars charged me.”
“Go on...,” Moranuen egged on the
conversation. “There’s more and
it gets better.” He winked at Estel.
Elladan grimaced and glanced at the floor continuing
quietly, “And I
fell off the horse.”
“You what?” Aragorn touched his ear, raising
his eyebrow and
feigning not having heard what his brother had said.
Legolas unsuccessfully tried to cover a small laugh,
garnering him a
glare as the eldest twin repeated himself, “I fell off my horse and the
nasty beast returned home without me. So I had to sit with
Elrohir.”
“And in the meantime they scared a herd of deer
right down to
Glorfindel.” Moranuen was laughing, “His party got all we needed
and we came home empty-handed because of these two.”
“Two!” Elrohir turned indignantly towards the elf in
the doorway.
Elladan patted his twin on the back condescendingly.
“Oh yes, dear
brother. If I am to blame, so are you.”
“And I missed all the fun.” Aragorn grinned
broadly at them
all. “It never fails.”
Moranuen stepped quickly aside disappearing into the
hall as Elrond
pressed his way into the room.
“I am sure that you will get your chance soon
enough.” He smiled
at the elves seated in disarray around the room. “A little quiet
time at home won't hurt you at all.”
“Might do you some good!” Elladan taunted his
brother.
Aragorn smiled wickedly at the elf and leaned
forward, “It appears that I
am not the one who needs lessons in being quiet,” he answered
sweetly as his brother stared at him open-mouthed.
“Oh he got you there, brother.” Elrohir
quickly scooted away from
his twin.
Elrond pressed the twins away from the bed. They
left then with
Moranuen, discussing at length just whose fault the afternoon’s fiasco
was. Before the elf lord could say anything to the ranger,
Elladan poked his head back in the room and pointed at the human,
“Don’t think you are getting away with that. I will not forget.”
“Good. I was hoping you wouldn’t! I’ll think
of ways to teach you
to be quiet while I lie in bed here.” Aragorn threw the threat back at
the elf with a daring smile.
“You’ll be spending a lot more time in that bed,
little brother, if you…”
Elladan's taunt was cut short as Elrond pushed the younger elf back and
closed the door.
Shaking his head he moved once more to the bedside
and sat on the edge
of the mattress staring down into the smiling silver eyes of his
youngest. “You are going to get yourself in a lot of trouble,
young man.”
The ranger stifled a giggle. “He can't hurt me while
I am in your care
and, if this is anything like the last time, I’ll probably be home for
a
few more days.”
Elrond gently placed his hand on the human’s
forehead, letting his palm
rest there for a moment. “I do believe you will be at that,
although your fever has broken. How do you feel?”
“Achey, tired and like I took on one of Elladan’s
dares and lost.” He
smiled back at the older elf.
“Can you keep down any food?”
“No.” The human groaned and shook his head.
His stomach was still
uneasy and ill feeling.
“Then I will have Celboril bring you some broth and
you will drink it
or I will let Legolas threaten you again.”
Aragorn laughed lightly and scrunched down
underneath the covers, tired
out from the illness and the company. “I will drink it,” he
promised, watching his father closely.
“What is it, Father?”
“You,” Elrond answered cryptically. “I
always hated it when
you got sick.”
“Reminded you I wasn’t an elf?”
“No, my son.” The soft smile that the elven
lord turned on the
ranger caught at his heart. “It always reminded me of how very much we
are not in control of our lives. How easily and quickly I could
lose you and how much I would hate that.” He gently laid his hand
against the human's cheek. “There were years before you came that
I was thankful that Elladan and Elrohir were past the stage of needing
me so much. But I became indifferent to life in a way and took it
for granted. It is easy to do as an elf, for one is rarely faced
with death unless one wants to be. And then you came and you
taught us once more that all life is precious.”
Aragorn didn’t answer, just listened; it was
something he had never
heard his father speak of.
The elf lord leaned down and kissed the young man’s
forehead.
“Rest and get better, Estel.”
“I will,” he answered as he threw an arm around the
elf’s neck and
hugged him quickly, like he used to do when he was little.
Elrond sat back with a smile and glanced over at
Legolas. The
prince was sitting quietly in the overstuffed chair, attentive but
trying to be invisible.
“You were right, Legolas. Iluvatar has been watching
over us all.”
He stood from the bed and turned back to Aragorn once more, smiling
down at the human. “I’ll have dinner brought up to you both.”
When Elrond had left, Legolas picked the armchair up
and drug it over
nearer to the bed, placing it so that it faced Aragorn. Settling
back into the chair, the elf stared off into the fire. Neither of them
talked for awhile.
Finally Aragorn spoke up softly, “I’m glad you’re
here.”
Legolas turned sleepy eyes on his friend and reached
his hand out to
the human, grasping the ranger's in his own. “I’m glad your getting
better, human. And I am glad I can't get sick!” he teased lightly,
eliciting a soft snort of laughter from Aragorn.
“Me too,” Estel whispered before he fell back
asleep.
The
End
Stories > Series
> Previous Story "Black
Breath" > "Sickness"
> Next Story in the Mellon
Chronicles:
"The
Seventh Stone"
top
