OoOoO
The next few weeks passed without incident in Fornost, with patrols going out every morning to scout the foothills around the village for any sign of orcs or other foul creatures. Day after day the rangers returned having nothing to report, and life for the Dunedain took on an almost relaxed feel.
Winter was not yet finished with the north of Middle-Earth though. One evening the skies went as grey as slate, and the winds blew down the mountains with an icy bite. All night long the windows and doors of every home shook as the storm wreaked its vengeance outside. Even Legolas had found a full reverie hard to attain, and he and Strider had spent much of the night sitting up before the hearth listening to the wind.
Come the morning, there had been snow drifts against every north-facing wall of the village. Some were so deep that children were able to tunnel into them, making a network of crawl spaces and forts between the buildings. The snow had been so deep that the rangers had been unable to go out on their usual rounds along the ridge. Strider had reassured his folk though when he pointed out that if they were unable to be abroad in the land, it was highly unlikely that any foul creatures would either. It went unspoken, but everyone also heard the implied reassurance that after the victory of the Battle of Five Armies the previous autumn, they could perhaps hope for peaceful times for a little bit longer.
A late winter cold spell knows no defeat though, and that night the winds had howled yet again. By the time the week was out, the entire Dunedain village was nearly so buried in snow that it made moving between buildings difficult. Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir found themselves put to work ferrying food and other goods back and forth between storehouses, the main hall and peoples' homes. Being elves, they could walk around atop the snow as they pleased. They also joined in helping to dig out what they could, when the weather paused in its wrath long enough to permit such endeavors.
Still, it wasn't long before time spent sequestered indoors began to wreak havoc on the health of the village. At first it was just the children sniffling here or there, or a running nose that Legolas noted when passing the latest armload of smoked ham through a window above the snow. When the winter sickness finally presented in full force, it seemed that no household got away without at least one person falling ill. That went for the chieftain's home as well; although Legolas by virtue of being an elf had no fear of sickness, Strider woke one morning sneezing loud enough to shake the walls.
It took less than a day for things to progress so quickly that Strider found himself flat on his back. The picture of winter misery, the poor man's sinuses were all running like a faucet left open and his voice was closer to that of a dwarf than a man for hoarseness. From the sounds of things, Strider was far from even being in the worst condition with the whole village taken into consideration.
Himself in as good a condition as he'd been when he arrived, Legolas knocked on the door to Strider's room and received a gravelly "Enter" from within. Taking care not to disturb the level of soup contained in the wooden bowl he carried, Legolas let himself in and tried not to grimace at the sight.
"Nod a bery preddy thing to see, ad even less to have I'b afraid." Strider managed a grin that looked more like an aborted sneeze. His eyes were red rimmed, and from the looks of things his tangled dark hair hadn't been brushed in ages. "You hab somethig for me dere?"
Crossing the room and handing Strider the bowl, Legolas gave a sympathetic half-smile. "I will admit that you have looked better, Strider. Far, far better."
"Yes, bud I've also looged worse." The Dunedain said wryly, if a bit stuffily. Picking up the spoon, he set to work tentatively on the stew. No one in the village had progressed from cold to stomach flu, but everyone seemed nervous of the possibility.
Pulling up a seat, Legolas sat down beside the bed. Having Strider ill had meant it had fallen mostly to him to keep the household running, and it actually hadn't been an unpleasant morning spent watching over the cook-pot and drying the laundry above the hearth. It was yet another aspect of living simply as opposed to royally that the prince was adjusting to. Although folk from the village would occasionally share meals with their chief, Legolas had been surprised to learn that Strider did most of his own domestic work. Or at least, he had until he had woken with a headache so vicious it demanded he stay abed. Not for the last time Legolas thanked the Valar that elves were immune to mortal sicknesses.
"Elladan and Elrohir went out this morning to go have a look around the valley." He offered, knowing that despite Strider's earlier words to his people it sat ill with him not to be able to send out patrols. "They said before they left that they planned to go up to the ridge, the better to make sure you were right about orcs not being able to be abroad in the snow."
"Good, aldough I'd be amazed if anythig was able to walk aboud out dere besides ad elf." With a heavy, congested sigh, Strider gave up trying to breathe through his nose and eat at the same time. "Thag you Legolas, it's been good habing someone else here to helb."
Legolas couldn't help but smile at the noble man's cold-muddled words. "I'm only too happy to do so, mellon-nin. I would rather be sharing quarters with you than cooped up with both Peredhil twins in that little cabin!"
At that Strider laughed, the steam from the soup seeming to brighten him up. "Dere are few brave enough to share quarders with dhose two a...at...aachoo!"
The sneeze nearly upset the soup bowl in Strider's lap, and Legolas very seriously considered going to see if Kailin had any herb she could part with. The village herbalist had been in high demand ever since the sickness began to make the rounds, and more than once Legolas had been asked to ferry a prescribed packet of ginger and hyssop from the older woman's home to the home of a sufferer. Even after the men had managed to get something of a path cleared to her front door through the snowdrifts, Kailin still insisted on the elves doing her couriering on account of the cold making her knees ache.
A thumping came at the door. Leaving Strider to do battle with his sinuses over soup, Legolas rose and went to go see who it was. Showing the resilience to the elements typical of his people, the elf answered the door in only his light tunic and leggings even as the icy air poured in.
Standing stamping and chattering on the doorstep was Andris, his nose as red as a tulip. Seeing Legolas, the young ranger grinned even as his breath poured from him in small clouds.
"Legolas! May I come in?"
Glancing over his shoulder and deciding that Strider was in rather too rough a condition to be caring about who dripped on his entrance rug, Legolas nodded and held the door open. "Yes of course. Come inside and warm yourself by the fire."
Andris was only too happy to oblige, and hurried past Legolas into the warm glow of the small main chamber. It had perhaps been a bit too long since last Legolas had put a log on the fire, and he had to remind himself that mortals were a tad more sensitive to the cold than he was. As Andris dropped his hood and unwound the long scarf from around his lower face the elf grabbed another few pieces of wood and dropped them into the embers.
"What can I do for you Andris? I'm afraid Strider is rather...indisposed at the moment." It was an accurate statement, considering that the sound of another sneeze was reverberating off the walls from the bedchamber.
Furs and cloak already sodden with melting snow, Andris sagged visibly when he heard as much. "He is?"
"Yes. Why, what do you need him for?"
For the first time that Legolas had ever seen, the tall, charismatic young ranger looked worried. "It's my grandmother. She's been ill for the past few days, like so many of the rest of the village. Over the past day or so she's taken a turn though...I was wondering if perhaps Strider could do anything for her? Kailin sent over Elrohir with a bundle of the usual herbs last night, but it just hasn't seemed to help much."
Legolas had heard bits and pieces of Strider's reputation as a healer as well as a ranger, and so small wonder that people would turn to him for dire cases. Still, there was no way the man was going anywhere anytime soon in his condition. More than likely he would faint as soon as he stood up, Legolas thought.
A sudden idea seemed to occur to Andris. "Perhaps you might be able to see if there's anything you can do, Legolas?" Before Legolas could answer, he rattled on. "Strider learned the healing arts from the elves, he says, and so maybe you might know something that would help?"
Legolas was taken aback. Casting about for a way to explain that he knew little to nothing about healing, he went with a default instead. "What about Elladan or Elrohir? They are the sons of one of Middle-Earth's most famous healers, after all."
The look of disappointment on Andris's face was quite wrenching. "I would, but they left this morning to go scouting out the area." Worry was etched deeply into his expression. "My Gran is doing so poorly, I just don't know if she'll be able to wait for them to return."
'Of course not Elladan and Elrohir, Greenleaf, you said yourself they had left to scout the valley' Legolas admonished himself silently. Looking now at Andris, so clearly afraid for his ailing grandmother, the prince didn't know what to do. He supposed he might know a few things about healing, but his knowledge of human illness was scant compared to triage and battlefield injuries. Still, here was someone standing before him in need of help...
"Let me get my cloak." Legolas sighed. "I will see what I can do."
oOo