runando ~ A Thranduil Story

Sickness

It started off slowly. At first, it was just the occasional trader coming into the city with a bit of a cough. Nothing out of the ordinary, especially for mortal men. Then they came in and found themselves indisposed with outrageous fevers, taking up many rooms in the local inns or pleading to be admitted to the healing halls. The common folk of Mithlond thought nothing of it. The traders were sick, there must be some sort of illness in Arnor. That's what they thought. Alas, it was true, but still no harm could come to them. They were elves of course!

Not a fortnight later, it hit like a hammer to an anvil. The elflings fell ill first. They came down with hellish fevers, their mothers not knowing how to treat it. Then they began to cough incessantly, as if something had clenched down on their lungs. Originally, it was just the occasional hack, but it grew into driven out fits, the poor things reduced to sweating wrecks afterwards. It was at this point that Glorfindel consulted with Cirdan. The two of them agreed as the de facto rulers of the realm to bar anymore men or mortal beings to enter the city of Mithlond. Letters were sent out to the rest of the realm, many to Harlindon and Forlindon, warning them of the supposed outbreak among their youngest.

Assuming that since the elflings were young and easily taken advantage of, parents and carers of many doted on them day and night. They cared for their every need, were there for them when the coughing fits struck, handkerchief in hand to wipe the sweat from their foreheads. That is how it spread to the elders. At first, the ellith started falling sick too, taking on the same symptoms as their children. Healers in the healing halls started to show the same worrying signs, leaving few to care for those who were already sick.

When it became obvious that the illness was spreading to the elders, the whole city became quiet. It was decreed that no one was to come in and no one was to leave. Mithlond, for the first time in its lifetime, was placed into quarantine. The streets were quiet during prime hours, market days, hours when many finished their work for the day. When the sun shone down upon those cobbled streets, not a soul was in sight. They had barricaded themselves into their homes out of fear from catching the dreaded plague simply from breathing in the tainted air.

Three weeks into the outbreak, the skies grew dark late one night and never brightened again. A great storm had shrouded the city in its rainy grasp. For days, the clouds never broke. Steadfastly, they let out their tears hours on end, never once stopping to re-hydrate. Annunor and his family remained in their home, Fineth frightful for their baby daughter, barely more than two months old. Glorfindel had insisted on Laineth staying with him and Cirdan in the palace. He reminded her that if her nephew and nieces had caught the illness, she would be at risk if she stayed with them, no matter how insistent she was that she could heal them.

Truth be told, Laineth had no idea if she could help anyone. Even if she could, no one would come to her and she would not be permitted to go to them. Even in the wild scenario that she was permitted, no one would dare open their doors to her. The paranoia could almost be smelt, it was rife in the air. All she could do was watch the raindrops glide their way down the windows, their paths constantly colliding with others. Funnily enough, she was not safe in the palace either. The largest healing halls in the city were located there and they were full to the brim with patients old and young, men and elves. As such, she and the two Lords had been confined to a secluded part of the palace. Thankfully, it was one that faced the sea, so Laineth could watch the oddly rough waves strike against the rocks.

It seemed that the Valar were angry. Only Eru could know why, however.

Now, Laineth had never been a wise believer in the Valar. That was an especially Elvish thing to do. She was not all especially Elvish. Blessed Eltariel had a hand in teaching her the very basics of the Valar and the Maiar, as was part of her daughter's education on who exactly she was. Her father was particularly scornful towards the Valar, nothing but full of praise for his former master Melkor. But, whenever she could, Eltariel slipped in a few more truthful and enlightening things about the Valar. When she died though, Sauron allowed for nothing but praise of Melkor. Torn between the two, Laineth elected to worship neither. However, in such a dark time and being holed up with nothing to do, she looked across the sea and spoke;