Chapter 25 – Persisting Fever

Light footfalls sounded outside the room, and the three occupants sprang towards the door to meet their father. Elrond entered the room with a tray of cups, food, and various herbs balanced expertly on one hand, while the other held a kettle of steaming water. Setting the tray down on the table, the elf lord poured the hot water over the contents of the cups and laid the kettle down beside the tray. Picking up the cup with a darker brown liquid, Elrond swirled the contents until the mixture had cool down a little, before moving to the bed. The elf sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed and, with the help of his eldest son, lifted Legolas into a semi-seated position.

“Wake up, little one.” Elrond tapped Legolas lightly on the cheek, trying to rouse him. After an eternity – or so it felt to Aragorn – a soft moan greeted them, telling them that their attempt had finally succeeded. “I’m going to give you something to make you feel better,” the elf lord explained to the semi-conscious elf prince, who groaned softly in response.

Supporting the elf’s head with his left hand, Elrond tipped the cup to Legolas’ lips and eased the liquid into his mouth gently, while Elladan massaged his throat to help him swallow. With great patience, the healer emptied the cup and laid the prince back onto the bed. Turning his eyes upon his children, Elrond gave a forced smile.

“I gave him a strong dose of anti-infection drug. Hopefully it will aid his body in combating the fever,” the elf lord said, while dabbing the excess fluid from Legolas’ chin. “Now, I want you to drink this.” Elrond indicated the other cup of steaming tea, after replacing the wet towel over wood-elf’s brows.

Aragorn scrunched his nose and sniffed at the content, throwing a suspicious glance at his foster father.

“Don’t worry, it’s just tea, with something to calm your body. It won’t put you to sleep,” Elrond reassured his son, trying to put him at ease. “I think you need it. You will be no use to us if you have another breakdown.” With that, the tall elf handed the cup to Aragorn.

The young man sighed and accepted the drink. He knew that his father was right. He did not wish to burden his family further and cause them more stress than they already had. Bringing the cup to his lips, Aragorn downed the drink in one breath.

The night dragged on, but Legolas' condition did not improve. Father and sons took turns caring for the prince, but despite their efforts, his fever raged on. The elf groaned in delirium as the fever tormented his body. Sweat glistered on his face and drenched the twisted sheets beneath his body.

Aragorn brushed a strand of wayward hair away from his friend's flushed face, before running the towel over his chest again. The elf’s fever had spiked suddenly several minutes ago, and the human’s worry for his friend intensified.

Legolas jerked abruptly, causing the human to pull back, wondering what had triggered the unusual reaction. His panic rose when the jerks quickly turned into shakes. The elf's hands clenched at the sheets twisting them tightly in his fists as he went into a convulsive spasm, his body tensing as his muscles contracted violently under the fever-induced seizure.

Elrond and the twins were at his side in a blink of an eye. Aragorn was grateful for their presence, for he had never before encountered this kind of situation. Even if he had, he had been on the receiving end and too sick to remember anything.

“Hold him down. Gently. Don't let him rip the stitches.”

Elrond's voice broke through his stupor, and Aragorn snapped back to reality. He watched helplessly as his father and brothers worked to restrain the convulsing elf to prevent him from hurting himself.

The seizure lasted less than two minutes, but to the caretakers it seemed like an eternity. Slowly, the shakes let up, leaving Legolas gasping for air. The human stood rooted to the floor, too stunned to do anything. He watched as his brothers eased the breathless elf onto his side, while his father mixed up another cup of healing tea. When the prince's breathing calmed, Elrond forced the second cup of tea into the still unconscious elf.

“Prepare a bath,” the elf lord ordered urgently. “We need to get his temperature down.”

Elladan turned on his heels and grabbed Aragorn by the arm, dragging him towards the door.

“Go get some hot water from the kitchen, hurry!” the older twin said to his petrified brother. Before Aragorn could ask why, he continued. “We need lukewarm water so that he won’t go into shock. Go! Go!”

Elladan shoved the man out of the room before dashing into the bathing chambers. Filling the tub with cold water, he waited impatiently for his human brother to arrive with the hot water.

Less than a minute later, Aragorn came in with a steaming kettle. He poured the content slowly into the tub, while Elladan stirred the water to test for the temperature. When the desired temperature was achieved, he signaled for the human to stop.

“Go tell father the water is ready.”

Aragorn nodded and disappeared out of the chamber. Moments later, the elf lord materialized with Legolas cradled in his arms. The unconscious prince was stripped to his undergarment, and only the heavy bandages covered his battered body. Sweat drenched his body, and his once silky long hair now lay in a tangled mess that clung limply to his skin. His tightly closed eyes were sunken and swollen. The skin beneath them had turned a shade darker since Elladan last saw him, which was only a few minutes ago.

Helping his father ease Legolas into the tub, the oldest son of Elrond picked up a washcloth and proceeded to bath the younger elf, while the elf lord sprinkled some herbs into the water. To help with the fever and prevent his wounds from further infection, Elrond explained to his anxious children.

Aragorn and Elrohir stood by the door with towels as they watched their father and older brother work in silence. Legolas would moan occasionally, but showed no other signs of waking. Suddenly, the young princes' eyes fluttered open, but the dull and feverish silver-blue orbs showed no recognition in them. They were looking right through Elladan, instead of focusing on him. In his fever dreams, the prince groped out blindly at Elrond, as if searching for something...or someone. His breath came in shallow, raspy gasps.

“Legolas,” Elrond soothed gently as he took the distraught elf's hand, “rest easy child. We will care for you.” Unsure if Legolas had heard him, the healer continued to stroke the prince's hair gently, uttering soothing words, as Elladan threw him a nervous glance. Eventually, the elven prince's eyes drifted shut, and, with a sigh, he sank into oblivion once more.

“That doesn't look good,” Elrohir commented warily beside his human brother.

“But I thought he was getting better!” The ranger's tone held a tinge of accusation. “He woke up earlier. Adar said he would be fine if he woke. He even made it to the gardens...”

“It was fear that gave him the strength and drove him to perform the impossible. It was either fight of flight.” Elrond explained. “His injuries are very severe, and the poison is wreaking havoc inside his body.” After a short pause, the elf lord continued, when Aragorn did not interrupt. “Give it some time. Let the poison run its course and allow his body to fight the infection.”

Aragorn nodded numbly with his eyes upon the floor, ashamed for his earlier outburst. The only indication of his tension was the death grip he had on the towel. Silence descended upon the chamber. Only the sloshing sound of the water was heard, as Elrond and Elladan continued to bath the feverish prince. The human had stood staring at the floor for what seemed like hours when a jab in his arm brought him out of his daze.

“Towel,” Elrohir said simply.

“Wha-?” The human’s head jerked up in confusion.

“The towel, Estel. They are moving Legolas out of the water,” the younger twin said as he moved in to help towel dry the prince, while Aragorn busied himself with drying Legolas’ hair. After fifteen minutes of fussing, the family of four re-bandaged the wounds, got the prince out of his wet garments, and fitted him with an oversized tunic and leggings to prevent the clothing from pressing against his injuries. They settled him back into bed and pulled a light blanket over his chest. All the while, the woodland being did not stir.

*****

TBC...