runando ~ A Thranduil Story

Healing

Annunor didn't sleep much before the plague. He didn't sleep at all during it. The coughing fits of his children were enough to keep his eyes wide open. He couldn't tell night from day anymore since the skies were so dark. Fineth worried relentlessly over their baby girl who had also fallen ill. No matter how much he racked through his head to find answers, he couldn't comprehend why someone would want someone so small, fragile, and innocent to suffer. Like Laineth, he had his own assumptions about how the sickness came to be.

He knew his brother all too well.

Mithlond was a clean city. Of course, the odd rat couldn't be helped, but it's not as if it was ripe for sickness. Besides, Elves in every sense of the word are immune. Apart from now, it seemed. It was obvious that they'd been targeted, perhaps the men had been as well. They were threats. Threats to Sauron's already weak grip on the continent.

Practically on patrol outside his children's rooms, Annunor knew no rest. He did not sit, he did not eat much more than what was practically shoved in his mouth by Fineth, he barely drank. But unlike many, he had been lucky enough not to catch the illness. The same could be said for Fineth, despite the fact she spent more time around their sickly children than he. Why he hadn't caught the illness? He had his thoughts. He would have to see someone to confirm this though.

"Ada!" Came a weak and hoarse voice from his son's room. Immediately, Annunor swiftly barged in, ready to help in whatever way possible.

"What is it Nengelon?" He asked once he reached his son's bedside, back of his hand on his son's feverish forehead.

Nengelon lay quiet and still for a moment, as if he was thinking over something. Then, he looked up into his adar's eyes and whispered, "Aunt Laineth is here."

Disregarding it as one of the hallucinations, Annunor just nodded and gave him a sympathetic smile in return. He wiped the beads of sweat from his dear son's hairline before helping him to sit up to drink some water. "Are you hungry, ion nin?"

Nengelon shook his head after taking a gulp of water, "No. You should go see Laineth though. She says it's important."

A sigh was heard from the doorway and Annunor diverted his eyes to see his wife, her face looking more pale by the day. Her eyes were sad. It was understandable, she had watched all three of her beloved children fall sick one after the other. Now they were all bedridden. Even poor baby Alphel was limp and could barely lift her head. All Fineth was left to do was roam between the three rooms of her children, doting on them endlessly.

She made her way across the room and laid a hand on her husband's shoulder. They gazed at each other lovingly, a hint of sadness in Fineth's eyes. She drew herself away from him and approached Nengelon's bed, sitting on the edge while stroking his rash ridden arm.

Annunor took a last look at the pair before leaving the room. Taking a peak into Erelil's room, he saw that she was sleeping, although she was basically in the same state as her brother. He couldn't bear to look at his youngest. The infant didn't deserve any of this, none of them did, but to see a baby in such a state was something even the strongest parent couldn't do.

He made his way downstairs and out of the front archway to sit in his garden. The only sound he could hear was the sound of the bells in the palace's belltower tolling endlessly. Normally, they would toll whenever someone either died or when a ship set out for Valinor. Now they didn't stop.

Sat at the marble table for Eru knows how long, he had nothing else to do. By now, he'd be occupied with endless tasks, whether it be taking Nengelon for a horse ride or skipping with Erelil to the market, or maybe assisting one of the Lords with a decision. Either way, he'd be doing something by this time of day. It was unusual for him to be so...idle. The cobbles of the streets were usually so bustling with life, traders and travelers coming and going. But now the gates were locked shut, the cobbles were quiet and the streets were dead.