Title: LotR Advent
Challenge: Royal Flu Pt. 17/24
Author: Deathangelgw
Disclaimer: They aren't
mine, but damned if I didn't wish that they were.
Warnings: AU, sap, fluff,
silliness
Pairings: Tuor, Earėndil,
Ecthelion, Glorfindel, Idril
Rating: PG
Summary: Day Seventeen of
the Advent Challenge-> Tuor and Earėndil are sick and Ecthelion, Glorfindel, and
Idril must figure out how to keep them well.
Beta: none since I want to
get this posted right away, so any mistakes are all MINE!
A/N: This is for an Advent
Challenge that I had posted/taken up. Each day will be a different
person/pairing from LotR. I'd like to thank Iniquity for keeping this up and
wish everyone a blessed Christmas! Enjoy! Please review!
A/N2:
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh this is so late!! Sorry everyone!!
‘thoughts’
A soft knock on the door
woke Idril from her brief catnap as she rested from her exhausting caring of her
husband and son and she rose groggily to answer the door. She rubbed her eyes,
yawning slightly before opening the door, and then smiled in relief at the
visitors before her. “Ecthelion…Glorfindel. Thank the Valar you are here…” she
whispered thankfully before hugging them tightly.
“That bad, hmm?” Ecthelion
murmured soothingly as he rubbed her back before they parted. She nodded
miserably and sniffled back exhausted tears as they gazed at her in sympathy.
“Have any of our medicines worked?” he asked as they came in the rest of the
way, wincing as they heard Tuor coughing in the background, while Earėndil
whined for his nana.
Idril winced at the whine
and sighed softly as she rubbed her temples. “Tuor says that the medicine will
kick in within a day or so and, since Earėndil is Peredhel, he shall recover
quicker as well. But they are so miserable and I can not seem to ease their
coughing and stuffed up heads…” she murmured tiredly as her shoulders slumped.
(Half Elf)
“And you have been working
far too hard, meldisen. Go…sleep. We will take care of those two,” Glorfindel
ordered her gently as they led her to a small guest room. She smiled gratefully
at them before going eagerly into the room and shutting the door. Glorfindel
glanced at his friend and smirked. “Shall we?” (dear friend, f)
“Aye, let’s. I shall take
Earėndil,” Ecthelion replied with a grin as they walked resolutely down the
corridors.
“And I shall see what Tuor
shall need,” Glorfindel agreed as he grinned back before they parted ways and
headed for the opposite rooms.
The next few hours passed
swiftly, yet laboriously. The two Elven Lords rushed between the bathroom,
kitchen, and medical wing as they retrieved medicines, drinks, and washing
clothes for the two sickly ones. Elves rarely became sick, but they found that
the Second born were not so lucky to be immune to certain ailments. So cold
compresses were applied to fever touched skin, teas and juices were gently
poured down cough roughened throats, and balms were placed on spasming muscles
as chills wracked them. Glorfindel and Ecthelion soon learned just why Idril was
so exhausted.
At a little after midnight,
the two fell into exhausted reverie as silence fell over the house and the two
invalids lay in healing sleep. The next morning dawned with the soothing smells
of breakfast as well as a fresh cool breeze from the opened windows near the two
Lords. They woke, stiff, yet content that they had done their best to help their
dear friends. As they went into the dining hall, their delighted eyes fell upon
the two now ravenous and recovering patients as they ate heartily of the offered
cereal and fruit. Idril beamed as she watched them in joy, her own once haggard
face rested and peaceful. The three looked over and Earėndil jumped down from
his chair to hug them both. Laughter filled the room as he played with them, his
cheeks no longer flushed with fever, but with health.
Looking at each other
proudly, Ecthelion and Glorfindel joined their friends to break their fast,
content that they had indeed aided the family well.
~Fin
