Hiya, folks, here is chapter two.

So, this one will have a bit of graphic labour … might want to skip over that part if you're easily squeeked.

For disclaimers, see chapter one.

Also I have a small story to tell: Once upon a time in a land called Middle Earth, two males elves fell in love. But despite this, both of them were decidedly unhappy that they couldn't have a child together. So they prayed and prayed and prayer their little pointed ears off and eventually the Valar decided to grant the male elves the ability to bear a child. They were effeminate enough as it was so really, what difference did it make? So, children, imagine that as well as having a penis (everyone together: schoolgirl giggle), male elves have a (gasp!) vagina-like … thing. I imagine it is not entirely the same, of course. It was smaller and there was much less room inside a male elf for a child. So therefore bearing a child was much more painful, uncomfortable and long for a male elf than a female elf. But most found it was worth it ;) cause they got a wee little bub at the end. And this is AU, so either deal with it or don't read.

On with the story then:

Legolas was certain that every person in the market had lined the edge of the path to see his return. He was intently aware of their eyes on his tearstained face and once again slender figure, and he could easily hear their whispers.

I don't think they've returned with a child

Braeon must have forbidden it.

Perhaps it died at birth.

Hmm, that may be it. I wonder how 'Las will cope.

He was unbelievably weary and felt as though he would fall asleep on his feet. Sara, the young healer Braeon had drafted to deliver the child, was gently supporting him.

After his water had broken, Braeon had made him remain behind to birth the child while the rest of the market moved on. He'd had a heartbreakingly long labour, with the baby breeching and struggling to be born for many hours. It had been dreadfully painful and taken an excruciating thirty hours …

Legolas pressed a hand to his large, round stomach when another painful contraction racked his body. His other hand clenched tightly and he bit his lip. With his eyes closed, he breathed slowly through the pain until it passed.

"Elf! Elf!" Braeon growled. Legolas opened his eyes and looked at the irate man. "Don't you ignore me. Get over here and give me more bread!"

Legolas groaned and hauled himself gracelessly to his feet, before quickly dealing with the man's request. After he was appeased, Legolas immediately slipped back onto the uncomfortable ledge of the wagon, sitting with his back against the wooden wall and his knees bent. A pillow cushioned his back and his feet were slightly spread. It was the only position he found, at this late stage of pregnancy and in such an environment, reasonably endurable.

Another painful contraction came and Legolas tensed as it passed. His eyes flicked to Braeon, who was still oblivious that his slave was in labour. Legolas wished for it to remain so as the next day the market would travel to an area just outside Rivendell. In his wildest dreams, Legolas imagined that somehow he would be able to smuggle his infant once it was born to one of his kin, as far fetched as that thought was.

When yet another, more agonizing pain came and passed, Legolas was distressed to finally come to terms with the fact that he certainly wouldn't make it to Rivendell. Soon enough Braeon would realise that he was already in labour.

Legolas slide uncomfortably off the wagon and began to pace restlessly, breathing in and out slowly and disregarding Braeon's derisive look. He groaned softly and clenched his hands into fists as another contraction racked his body.

"Don't be whingeing, elf," Braeon said callously. "You've got yourself into this state and I have no sympathy for you. If you hadn't hidden that you were pregnant with a little bastard I would have killed it immediately and you wouldn't currently be fat and useless."

Legolas ducked his head, his eyes glinting dangerously. He took a steady breath before meekly replying, "Aye, sir."

"And stop that infuriating pacing, you look like an oliphaunt."

Legolas bit his lip to stop the furious reply bubbling inside of him. He was tired, in pain and at his wits end. He sat down on the ledge of the wagon again and was about to shift back into his reclining position when there was a soft POP! noise. He felt a warm wetness spreading through his leggings and he froze in shock. Slowly he reached down and realised that his waters had indeed broken.

Legolas took a deep, calming breathing. His baby was coming now. There was no denying it any longer. He was immobile with abject terror and shock until another painful contraction came.

Finally, he managed to clear his throat. "S-sir," he said hesitantly.

"What, elf?"

"I'm in labour," he said softly, fearing the angry outburst Braeon would undoubtedly have. He was not mistaken. "My baby is coming soon."

Braeon stood and advanced on the hapless elf. "Are you sure?"

"Aye, my waters have broken," Legolas replied. Braeon looked at his soiled leggings briefly before turning away in disgust.

"Wonderful. Just wonderful," he growled. He withdrew a small key from his pocket and unlocked the mithel chain binding the elf from the wagon. "Stupid, worthless elf. Do you live to spite me?" Legolas didn't reply, simply focusing on breathing through another contraction. "Well get up!" Braeon snarled, wrenching the elf to his feet. "You can't stay here to have the rotten thing. I have no desire to see such a horrid event." He tightened his vice grip on the elf's arm and pulled him from the wagon, the thin chain dragging from Legolas' ankle.

"Where are we going?" Legolas asked uneasily. He hadn't spoken to Braeon about what would happen to him when he had to give birth, knowing that he wouldn't be receptive to that line of conversation. He was anxious now.

Braeon didn't reply. After several minutes, they reached a familiar wagon. Legolas breathed a sigh of relief.

Sara, the young healing woman who had disinclined to kill the child previously, answered the door when Braeon rapt loudly. Braeon pushed the elf towards her.

"He says the thing is finally coming," he said roughly. "You know what I've paid you to do. I want the elf back completely well and the thing gone. And remember, both of you, that if you escape," he pointed at Legolas, "her life is forfeit." He stalked off without another word.

Sara shook her head in disgust. "What a horrid man. Come on in, 'Las," she said kindly, taking Legolas' hand and pulling him into her cosy wagon. She gently helped him to lie down on the sofa with a pillow behind his head and his knees bent. Legolas breathed a sigh of relief at the unbelievably comfy position, the first time in countless weeks he hadn't been aching and uncomfortable. Braeon would have considered it entirely disrespectful for him to act such in his presence.

Sara wordlessly removed his soiled trousers and checked the baby's progress. Legolas blushed but did not protest to the examination. "Now, I see your water has broken," Sara began. "How long ago?"

"Just before Braeon brought me here," Legolas replied, groaning as another contraction came.

"I see." She rummaged through a cupboard then handed Legolas a pair of soft, light woollen trousers. He pulled them on gratefully. "You're progressing well and it will be a good while yet until the baby is ready to be born. I was just making myself some dinner when you came. Would you like something to eat?"

Legolas' stomach growled loudly at the mere mention of food. "Yes, please," he said gratefully.

The labour progressed seemingly normally, until Sara realised that baby was breech. While he had been able to doze off for short periods and had been more content than any other point in the labour during the first phase, Legolas struggled through second phase.

His waters had broken very early on, leaving quite a long time for more contractions. The market had travelled onwards, leaving the labouring elf and the healer in the dust. Finally, on the second evening, the urge to push came.

"Come on, 'Las," Sara encouraged unfalteringly. She was at the foot of the couch, diligently monitoring the baby's progress. "You have to keep pushing. Whenever you feel the urge, push with the contraction."

"Ai, Elbereth," Legolas groaned, falling back against the couch, "it hurts. Ai!" He bore down again, growing discouraged when there was no apparent progress. It had been a distressingly long time, and exceedingly painful from the unfavourable position of the baby.

"Focus, 'Las, focus,' Sara coached. "Concentrate and push again."

"I cannot," Legolas ground out, tightly clenching the material of his tunic with his fists in agony. He tossed his head distractedly to get his dishevelled hair from in front of his eyes then gritted his teeth and pushed again. "I cannot do this. I want this to stop." He felt tears that had thus far disinclined to fall slip down his cheeks.

"You cannot give up," Sara ordered. Legolas partly ignored her, so involved as he was in the intense pain. "Listen, 'Las! Listen to me! You cannot give up now! You are so close. Just a few more pushes. You can do this!"

"No, no," Legolas gasped. "Ai! It hurts so badly." He screamed again.

"Think about your baby, 'Las," Sara said firmly. "Just focus on your baby. She is the reason you are going through this."

"To what purpose, Sara?" Legolas cried. "Braeon ordered my baby dead as soon as it was born. Why must I endure such pain only for it to bring heartache?"

"Listen to me! I wouldn't kill your baby when Braeon asked the first time, 'Las, and I certainly won't kill it after it's born," Sara assured him. "She will not die."

"How? He will not tolerate her surviving. If you will not kill her, he will," Legolas sobbed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Another fierce contraction came and he pushed with it, crying out in desperation. "I cannot … I cannot…"

"Look at me, 'Las," Sara soothed. "Listen, we are barely three hours from Rivendell. The baby will be born in minutes, if you focus. I shall take a small detour on the way back to the market and give the baby to the first elf I find." She paused as another painful contraction passed. "Surely one of your kin will be willing to take her in."

"Aye, someone will. The Lords of Rivendell are kind, they will take her into their care, even though she will be half-human," Legolas agreed. "Thank you. Thank you so very much, Sara."

"Think nothing of it," Sara said, waving away the comment distractedly. "Just focus on the task at hand, Legolas. It is time – I can see the baby's feet now."

But despite her claim, the baby still took just under an hour to emerge to greet the world. She breeched painfully and it took quite some of Sara skills to gently coach Legolas through the birth and ensure the safe delivery of the child. Legolas didn't doubt that he wouldn't have been able to do it if she hadn't been there.

A loud, long scream followed by the shrill cry of an infant rented the silence disrupted previously by only Legolas' pained gasps and harsh breathing.

"There you go, there you go," Sara whispered, lifting the infant up until Legolas could see her. She was wriggling and kicking her tiny legs. Though she was covered in a sticky substance, Legolas knew that she was easily the most precious, most perfect being in Middle Earth.

"Ai elbereth, elbereth," Legolas gasped, completely confounded. He found that he couldn't take his eyes off the child. "She's amazing."

"She is," Sara agreed, smiling brightly. She bustled around cleaning the child up while Legolas laid back against the soft pillows, eyes closed as he listened to the abating cries.

Finally, Legolas opened his eyes. Sara was cradling the infant, which was now wrapped in a fluffy blanket, and gazing down at him. "What is wrong?" he said immediately, noticing the sad look in her eyes. A hint of panic crept into his voice.

"Nothing is wrong," Sara assured him immediately. "I just - 'Las, are you sure you want to hold her?"

"Why wouldn't I want to her hold? She's my baby!" Legolas cried. He held out his hands, indicating that he wanted her close.

"'Las, you mustn't get too attached to her," Sara reasoned desperately. "You will have to give her up, you know that."

"I know … I know," he gasped. "But I have already gotten attached during these months that I carried her inside of me. I have to see her. Please, just give her to me!"

Sara hesitated for a long moment, then placed the child cautiously into his arms. Legolas gaped down at her, cradling her close to his chest and examining her tiny face. The little girl looked strikingly like him, Legolas mused as he traced one of her slightly pointed ears. He looked for any hint of Braeon's half of her parentage, but was surprised to find none. Despite this, she did not look entirely like him at all, though he did bear a resemblance to ….

"Dear Elbereth!" Legolas cried. Sara looked at him quickly.

"What is it, 'Las?"

"Braeon isn't her father!" he cried, astounded. He smiled weakly through his tears of sheer happiness. "My little girl isn't Braeon's child!"

"That is wonderful," Sara exclaimed.

"Aye. I know now who will take her in," he said gratefully. "Do you have parchment and a quill? I must write a letter before you go to Rivendell."

As soon as he had realised that the human he spent the evening with just under a year ago had fathered his child, Legolas had felt an immense relief wash over him. He felt certain that the young man was from Rivendell and that he would without question care for Annari.

Despite this, it had been devastatingly difficult to hand her over to Sara. He had wept for quite sometime after Sara had forcibly taken her from him and left for Rivendell. He had known that he could never, ever had kept Annari as Braeon wouldn't have allowed it, but that didn't make the parting any less painful and raw.

"'Las." Sara's soft voice pulled Legolas from his dazed musings. She touched his arm and gestured towards the familiar grey wagon that was only meters ahead of them. He nodded curtly and steeled himself.

Braeon was seated in his usual chair, looking the elf up and down with a smirk on his face. Legolas squirmed under his gaze, looking anywhere but the man, and approached him. He gave a short bow.

"It is about time you returned," Braeon said gruffly to Sara, ignoring the elf's presence. "I see you failed to make him presentable." He looked scornfully at Legolas' slightly red eyes and nose, and the disarray his hair was in.

"With all due respect, 'Las has been through a long and exhausting labour," Sara said, a hint of frustration tinging her voice. "I highly doubt that being presentable was the most important thing on either of our minds."

Braeon waved his hand dismissively. "I care not. You have been payed, leave now."

Sara gave Legolas a small, encouraging smile and squeezed his hand reassuringly before hurrying off. The spectators that had been watching the exchange turned away, going back to their own business.

"Come, slave, you know your place. Fix me some breakfast," Braeon ordered. "You've been shirking your duties too long now." He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, scrutinizing the elf.

"Yes, sir," Legolas said respectfully. In silence he prepared an egg with bread for the human, automatically completing the task he'd done countless other times. As he buttered the bread, he could feel Braeon's eyes on him.

"Where is the thing?" the brutish man finally asked.

"Gone," Legolas whispered, his voice cracking slightly. He collected himself. "My baby is gone, sir."

"Excellent," Braeon said. Legolas placed the plate in front of him wordlessly and stepped back as he began to eat. Legolas' own stomach rumbled in hunger as it usually did, but as always he ignored it and wearily slid onto the back ledge of the wagon. He was completely exhausted and rightly believed that he would collapse if he didn't sit down and rest.

Legolas pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He lent his head back again the wall, feeling slight despair from the sheer normalcy of this position. Almost every day and night he would perch here thus, tending to the stall when customers came and otherwise gazing dreamily at the sky. Over the last months it had become increasingly difficult with he rounded stomach and though he had loathed the awkward, painful position at the time, he found himself wished with all his heart that he was still carrying the child inside of him. He felt a deep emptiness inside of him now that the little girl was gone and was it easy to presume that he would never see her again.

Braeon finished his breakfast and advanced on Legolas, who had drifted off in light slumber. He was jolted back into consciousness by Braeon loudly and menacingly clearing his throat.

"May I help you, sir?" Legolas asked tiredly, his eyes trained on the floor.

"What do you think you are doing?" Braeon demanded.

"I have not slept in almost two days, sir, and for most of that time I was in labour," Legolas replied in a soft, submissive voice. "With all due respect, I am trying to catch up."

Braeon stroked his beard thoughtful. "I suppose that I'll have to give you a couple hours off to rest, won't I?" he said derisively. "You truly are worthless sometimes, whore. I wouldn't be bothered keeping you at all, if you weren't so pleasurable."

Legolas pursed his lips slightly and his nostrils flared. He tried to ignore the debasing words, as always.

"Very well, you may sleep until noon but I expect you to tend the stall after that and make me dinner this evening," Braeon finally said. "Don't be expecting this compassion regularly, though, you coddled elf."

"Thank you, sir," Legolas replied. He slid carefully off the wagon and clamoured to his feet, wincing visibly as he did so. Braeon noticed this.

"Are you hurt?" he asked bluntly. His eyes flickered meaningfully downwards. Legolas couldn't help the astonished look that crossed his face, nor could he prevent his right eyebrow raising a fraction of an inch.

"I gave birth mere hours ago," Legolas said, his voice coloured with shock. "How could you think that I wouldn't be?"

"Don't you dare speak to me so insolently," Braeon growled. He backhanded the elf viciously across the cheek, staring at him coldly as he crumpled to the ground with a pained cry. Legolas placed a hand to his cheek, already knowing that come morning he would have a stark bruise. "You can bet that tonight will be painful for you then, if you are sore," Braeon said callously.

Legolas bit his lip tightly, knowing that Braeon would be true to his words. The man stormed away from him and threw himself into his chair, ignoring the elf again.

Legolas crawled underneath to wagon to his usual bed, which consisted of whatever patch of grass or dirt the wagon was positioned over at the time. Once he was reasonably comfortable, Legolas pulled his legs loosely to his chest again and hugged them for comfort, drifting into exhausted, dreamless slumber immediately.

Please review if you have a moment. I understand that I am writing to a VERY limited audience and a note that even one person is reading would be wonderful. Thank you.