Stories of Arda Home Page
About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search
swiss replica watches replica watches uk Replica Rolex DateJust Watches

Shadows of the Past  by Laikwalâssê

Shadows of the past

Disclaimer:  see chapter 1

Author’s note:

Again many thanks to Erulisse and to Selene Aduial for beta reading this story for me. 

Chapter 4: shadows of the past

The Master of Rivendell looked up tiredly, when he heard a knock on his study door. He rubbed his temples to ease the headache that had taken permanent residence there. Again he had spent hours in his workroom to find a cure against the mysterious plague that was spreading through Middle Earth, but to no avail so far.

When the first reports had reached his doorstep about ill elves, how the illness affected them, and how the plague always ended, he could not, at first, believe what he was hearing. This infection was like nothing he had seen or heard about before. The time between the first symptoms to death was very short and there were no clues to help him find an antidote.

Fortunately the plague hadn’t reached Imladris yet, but Elrond had no illusions; it was only a matter of time. And when it did reach his valley, he wanted to be prepared. Maybe the seclusion of his valley and the power of Vilya would spare them but he was not willing to take any risks.

But what had he achieved so far? Nothing! He had developed an experimental antidote, yes, but how could he test it? No one was ill in Imladris, which was a blessing; but it was also a misfortune in this in this instance. He had no idea if the antidote would work; yet he had no choice but to wait until he could find out.

He was frustrated, he was angry, and he was afraid. This could not be! For every illness there was a cure, he only had to find it. The strangest thing about this illness was the fact that it affected men and elves alike. There seemed to be no barrier between the two races, something that made the plague even more dangerous.

He had received horrible reports from nearby human settlements about the terror that raged there but he could provide no help. He had ended all travelling between Imladris and other elven realms or settlements in order to stop the infection from accidentally entering into his valley until he had found an antidote or a cure for the illness. Knowing that he could not enforce this embargo for long he tried feverishly to understand the nature of the illness so that he could protect his people from possible exposure to the illness. He had to reject the desperate pleas for help from outside. He did not even know how to help his own people.

When the knock repeated he quickly stopped his whirling thoughts and bade the visitor to enter. A servant bowed when he had stepped before his desk handing him a message. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, my Lord, but this letter has just arrived and it seems most urgent.”

The Elf-Lord sighed. ”Another one”, he thought.But then he looked up in alarm. How had this letter come to Rivendell? Seeing the Elf-Lord´s expression the servant hurried to explain. “The letter was brought by a carrier pigeon, my Lord.” Releasing his breath slowly Elrond looked at the letter, unwilling to open it. But then again he could not ignore it.

Dismissing the servant he took the parchment and looked at the wax seal. His heart beat faster when he recognized the emblem of King Thranduil. Now what he had dreaded was about to happen. The Woodland King was asking for help and he could provide none, nor was he willing to let anyone enter or leave his valley; including himself.

Taking up the opener he looked at the letter thoughtfully. He had sent many letters concerning the plague toward Mirkwood, yet he had not received an answer, until now. He knew, of course, that the Elven King still blamed him for events long past, and that his stubbornness towards contacting him was a result of this.

However, before he had the chance to break the seal, another knock sounded on his door. “Come”, the Elf-Lord called and a small smile instantly returned to his tired face when his wife slipped into the room. Walking straight toward him, she slung her arms around his neck and kissed him. Returning the kiss, he savoured her welcoming presence; the letter momentarily forgotten.

When they broke apart, Celebrían looked her husband over. “You look tired, my dear. You should take a break.” Elrond smiled knowing that she was right, as always, and resisting her was hopeless anyway.

“Maybe you are right,” he confessed. “How are the boys?” he asked, a sudden fear rising in his heart. Sitting down on the edge of the massive desk, she smiled. “Oh, they are asleep already.” When she saw the concern in her husband´s eyes she quickly added. “Don’t worry; they had too many adventures today. They are simply tired.”

Letting out a sigh the Elf-Lord sank back into his chair. After a while Celebrían pointed at the seemingly forgotten parchment on the desk. “What’s this?” she asked curiously, recognizing the seal from Mirkwood.

Elrond jerked up from his musings and took the letter. “A message from King Thranduil,” he answered while slowly breaking the wax seal and ripping the letter open.

Knowing that her husband had tried countless times to contact the King regarding the illness Celebrían raised an eyebrow. “Ah, at last, what does it say?” Elrond raised an amused eyebrow. With a teasing tone he replied. “I have not even had the time to read it yet!”

Celebrían changed her seat from the desk to her husband’s lap and looked at him earnestly. “Then you should stop talking and read it!” Elrond chuckled. He was doomed. With this wife he was doomed.

 

 

Lord Elrond,

 

I don’t know where to start. You surely have heard about the plague. I hope the illness has not reached your valley yet, as it has my home.

 

We have many dead to mourn, especially children. Our healers are powerless against the aggressiveness of the plague.

 

I hope you are working on an antidote and I hope you are successful, because one of the newly infected is my little brother Saeron. You surely know as well as I do, that the illness ends in death every time.

 

Of course I know of the enmity between our realms and my father has forbidden me to contact you, but…If you can help, then I beg you to come.

 

I know you have no reasons to do this, but you have two elflings of your own and my brother is only three years old….

 

I know my father can be very stubborn about all matters, and I love him. I don’t want to disgrace him, but I cannot understand why the hard feelings between two Elf-Lords should cost me the life of my brother. If you feel the same way about this, please consider my words.

 

Kind regards,

 

Galadhion Thranduilion.

 

Seeing that the letter was not from the Woodland King, but from his eldest son, the Elf-Lord was unable to hide his surprise, especially because it had been sent without the King’s knowledge.

However, the desperation the letter showed touched his heart and his dilemma was back again. How could he possibly leave his valley with the dread hovering over them? But how could he ignore this plea for help? Elrond closed his eyes.

Suddenly angry he crumbled the parchment and threw it on the floor. What were they thinking? That they could just knock on his door and he would provide the solutions to all problems in the world?

 

*Stop it!* When he heard his wife’s sharp mental command he startled and looked into her grey eyes. “Stop this, my love,” she said aloud more gently. “You know you are the only one, who can find a cure, if one exists. Give yourself time.”

Regaining his composure, he nodded wearily. “The tragedy is that any time left is short.” Celebrían sighed. “I know, but you should rest now. In your state you wouldn’t recognize a solution if it danced on your desk right now.”

Elrond smiled. He rose and laid an arm around his wife’s shoulder. “What would I do without you?” he asked, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Leaving the room with his arm around her shoulder, Celebrían whispered, “What are you going to do? About the letter, I mean?” Hearing the slightly irritated tone in his wife´s voice the Elf-Lord stopped and turned to look at her.

“What do you mean?” he asked carefully while already guessing what it was that had upset her.

Taking a deep breath and with guilt in her eyes the elven lady looked at her husband. “You are not really considering leaving Rivendell? What if the plague reaches us here and you are away? What if the boys get ill?” she added with a near whisper. Lowering her eyes she knew that her request was selfish and heartless, but….

Knowing that only the fear for their children drove her to speak thus, Elrond stepped closer and embraced her. What should he tell her? He didn´t want to leave his home but what if the antidote was working? He could only test this on ill people. Should he wait until the plague reached his home to learn that the medicine was useless; or should he seize the chance and test it before anyone in Imladris had need of it?

The factor that threw all considerations into a whirl however was time; the short span the ill had until they died, the time he would still need to complete the antidote, and the time he would need to reach Mirkwood, help the elves there, and return. It would take at least five weeks at the best and many more at the worst. What if anyone here became ill while he was away?

Opening his mind while still holding his wife, Elrond let her partake in his fears and thoughts in the hope she would understand or see a solution where he could not. Her silent crying at his chest however confirmed that she was as desperate as he was.

Looking up she sought his eyes. “I understand that you must go, even if I do not like it.” Knowing what he was asking of his wife, in fact asking from all the inhabitants of Rivendell, the healer closed his eyes; silently thanking his wife for her understanding and support and at the same time sending a fervent prayer toward the Valar to spare his valley this illness.

“I will leave as soon as all is prepared. I will leave a sufficient amount of the antidote for all eventualities. Exchanging a deep kiss they stood there holding each other tightly.

To be continued…………………….

 





<< Back

Next >>

Leave Review
Home     Search     Chapter List