Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Lord of the Rings.
Note: Thanks for the reviews. I am glad you liked the last plot twist. I think this story might be a bit longer then I originally planned. This chapter takes place a few months later then the last one. Let's begin. I am again torturing Aragorn.
Legolas slipped into the room; face softening as he saw his beloved husband lying fast asleep at his desk. Aragorn's neck was bent at an uncomfortable angle and Legolas frowned and he sighed as he walked the last quick steps towards the desk and stroked the man's wet hair out of his face.
Aragorn tensed under his touch and Legolas felt the unnatural body heat coming from the man's brow. He lightly shook Aragorn, shifting himself on the desk and slowly stroking Aragorn's brow until the man woke up, blinking up at him with fever clouded eyes.
"Oh, I was just getting my work done. . ." Aragorn glanced around his empty desk, wondering why it was empty.
"I think you need to be in bed, meleth nin. You caught the same thing that Raina has had." Aragorn shook his head, confused eyes locking with the smile on Legolas' face as the man said.
"Legolas, why are you here?"
"Because you are ill. You have caught a bad case of the fever just like Raina had last week." The elf once more explained patiently.
Last week their daughter had come down with the spring fever like so many other children in the city. Thanks to the increased hygiene none of the children had died but Legolas had begun to suspect Aragorn had come down with a similar case.
He tugged at the pregnant man's hand and Aragorn rose finally, stumbling a bit and Legolas caught him, easing Aragorn as he steadied him with an arm around the waist. "Easy, my lover."
Together they managed to go to the royal chambers, by which time Aragorn was swaying. Legolas cursed himself for not seeing the exhaustion in his mate's eyes. Aragorn was mumbling softly to himself, protesting against Legolas' hands as the elf sought to undress him.
Legolas finally stopped and instead placed his hand against Aragorn's warm cheek. "Meleth, stop struggling! I mean no harm. . . ."
Aragorn didn't seem to recognize him and Legolas sighed as he remembered the many broken nights spent by Raina's bedside to try and console the crying child who had been extremely uncomfortable with the heat in her body. He tugged Aragorn towards him, knowing the man only had a flash of the fever but he knew his beloved was not feeling very well.
He lovingly managed to dress Aragorn in his sleeping attire at last, whispering endearments to the man he loved and then tucking him into bed, sitting with him and stroking the man's sweaty hair until Aragorn fell in an uneasy sleep.
His gaze lingered fondly on his mate. Aragorn was already blossoming with his child, the gentle rise of his stomach protecting their newborn quite well. Legolas rose, smoothing the blankets one last time when a sweaty hand caught his.
The elf turned to find Aragorn half out of bed, croaking, "Stay, please!"
The elf nodded, his hands already pushing Aragorn back in the bed. "Yes, I will be right back. I have to check on Raina first. She might not be awake yet but I promise you, I will come back the moment I have done that."
The man nodded at him, reassured like a small child as he lay back down against the many pillows that decorated the royal bed. Legolas smiled at his husband. Aragorn could still be easily reassured by the elvish that he remembered from his earliest memories.
The elf silently slipped out of the rooms, taking quick steps towards Faramir's office. He knocked upon the wooden door and then entered when the tired voice came. Faramir glanced up at him with the same tired eyes that Aragorn had and Legolas frowned in sympathy. Faramir tried to smile but he was failing miserably.
The man sank back down in his chair when rising proved to be dangerous as he swayed. Legolas moved closer, saying in a soft voice. "Are you feeling alright, Faramir?"
"Of course I am, Legolas. . . ." Faramir was shaking his head, breaking off with a moan as his eyes drifted shut and he pressed his fingertips tightly against his eyelids. Legolas crossed the distance between them and he rested his hands on Faramir's shoulders.
"Go to bed, Faramir. . . ."
"But somebody has to keep the house running. Boromir and Eowyn are already ill. . ."
"And so are you."
"So I am but I cannot do this . . . I have to work . . . I mean . . ."
"Go to bed, Faramir. Aragorn is ill too and if you keep working you will both be extremely ill. So go to bed. Just go. You need to be better. The fever has managed to get everybody ill in the city one way or another and even the royal house has been infected."
The younger man glanced up at him with fever clouded eyes and sighed, resting his head against Legolas' arm in a childlike gesture of trust as he asked, "But why are you not ill then?"
"Elves do not fall ill, Faramir. Now go on . . . I am not going to put you into bed like I did with Aragorn. Ask one of the guards to escort you home. I think with a bit of rest the fever will pass in a day or two. You have already had it as a child I think? Then you should be feeling better soon. Go on, Faramir. Leave the work for a later date when you are not ill."
The younger man nodded and then got to his a feet a bit unsteady, grasping Legolas' offered hand. The sluggish movements reminded Legolas of Aragorn when the man had come down with the flu. The elf shook his head, wondering why both of the men went to such lengths to hide it. He made sure that one of the guards would accompany Faramir to his house before going to check on Raina.
The elf slipped into his daughter's chamber and gazed at her for a moment. She was sleeping peacefully, her eyes closed and one hand loosely clenching a stuffed bear, a last gift from Elrond. Legolas traced her cheek with one finger and then glanced around the room.
They would need to start preparing the nursery soon. At least before Aragorn would give birth, but that was some many months away. The elf cocked his head when he heard a loud sneeze, a groan and a light thud coming from the royal bedroom.
He walked back inside the room, frowning in sympathy when he saw how Aragorn had managed to curl up. The man had nearly tossed all the pillows from the bed in his search for coolness. Legolas reached the bed, seeing the weary grey eyes of his beloved before Aragorn kicked the blankets away.
"Estel?" he asked, tugging on his boots before he slid into the bed. Aragorn immediately turned to him, eyebrows raised but the man seemed to recognize Legolas and he smiled a gentle smile. The king crawled closer, one hand holding his belly.
Legolas pulled Aragorn closer, wrapping a blanket around the shivering man. "How are you feeling?"
"How is Raina?" The man asked instead, shaking his head as he allowed his beloved to run warm hands over his arms as they tightened in Legolas' shirt.
"She is asleep. She will call for us when she is awake, I recon, but for now you have to sleep, meleth nin, to get well."
"I am not tired, Legolas. My mind is too full of words and thought. I am not tired enough to sleep. Stay with me please and tell me plans about the new child . . ." The man's strong voice was pleading and Legolas nodded, hiding a smile.
He slid down on his back, allowing Aragorn to cuddle up to him. Aragorn's belly pressed against his side and Legolas rested a hand on it, wondering when he would feel the babe inside stirring to life. Aragorn released a small groan as his back cracked loudly.
"Much better." The man murmured, closing his eyes.
Legolas continued to look on as Aragorn drifted off to sleep finally and it did not take long until Legolas join him.
Something that brushed his side caused Legolas to awaken. The elf glanced up at Aragorn but the man was only rubbing his stomach, wakening slightly. Legolas woke better when something brushed his side again and he watched as Aragorn's gaze drifted down towards his stomach, as did the man's hand.
"I think the child is moving." Aragorn's voice was calm even as his face cracked into a smile. Legolas was fighting his own smile and then he reached out to place his hand next to Aragorn's. In the first pregnancy he had missed this moment, had missed the emotions in Aragorn's eyes as they got the first glimpse of the life that grew within Aragorn.
Aragorn rolled onto his back, one hand still loosely holding his stomach as the baby moved within. Legolas reacted slower but finally the elf crept closer, resting one hand on the gentle bulge as the babe kicked again, against his hand this time.
Soon Legolas had both hands on his mate's stomach, drawing the shirt up so he could see the tanned flesh. The thickening around Aragorn's waist was what drew Legolas' attention as he remembered that first night so many months ago when Aragorn had made the announcement.
He had pulled Aragorn into bed that night, even before the man had had the time to undress and had easily divested Aragorn of his shirt, pushing the man down on the bed as he stared at the small bulge that had appeared. He had wondered how he had failed to notice the weight Aragorn had been putting on.
He had known every plane of Aragorn's body, all the firm muscles and knew every movement by heart. Unless Aragorn had been hiding something from him. But no, Aragorn had asked Legolas to confirm the pregnancy.
The elf was tossed out of his thoughts as Aragorn moved, curling up to him. "I am tired," his husband declared.
Legolas smiled and then gathered his sick husband closer. Aragorn's stomach was once again pressed against Legolas' side but the elf did not mind in the slightest. He got up as the first cries came from his daughter's room and as she joined them in bed, Legolas watched over his growing family and he couldn't have been happier.
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