*'Tolo dan na nin, saes, saes…!'is elvish which means "Come back to me, please, please…!"
**'Meleth' is elvish which means "beloved."

Author's note/chapter warning: This chapter contains a birthing scene but it's not so very detailed physically, more emotionally so; however some sensitive readers may want to be warned. Angst ahead.

**
Chapter thirty-five:
Of Gifts and Endings
**

It had been one and a half hour since Legolas assisted Elain to go from the feast, and he had no left the tent since. When the pregnant woman had slept, he helped Katrina – who also had come back – with various household things, and spoke to her, getting to know Roran's fiancé a bit better. Many would have considered it wrong for him, a male, to be alone with two females but Legolas had no such interests in mind – he was just helping a friend, supporting her. Actually at the moment he did not think much of the situation. This behaviour would be considered normal by his own kind; of course he would help those he held dear, no matter the situation or gender.

When Elain had awoken, Legolas sat by her side, talked, and encouraged her. She helped him with his sewing again; it was almost finished.

"Here, it's against the pain," Katrina murmured as she gave Elain a cup.

"Thank you," she said before she drank. It tasted bitter and she grimaced. The brew would not begin soothe her until several minutes, maybe even an hour. She shut her eyes tightly when a wave of throbbing pain hit her again. They were coming at shorter intervals, and she knew that they were not just mere warnings…but she was frightened, very frightened, about what about to happen and the fact that her child might not survive.

"Elain, are you feeling well?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she said hurriedly as always and Legolas didn't quite believe her. When the cup was emptied he put it away on the table beside the bed, without once releasing her hand. The woman's grip was firm and told him that she was in great pain. This was unlike her other pains… He could feel it. Briefly he glanced at Katrina, who too looked worried. "Do you know where to find my tent?" the elf asked softly at which she shook her head. "Ask your way and find Aragorn. Tell him to hurry. And inform Roran and Horst if you can."

"Is she…?" Katrina asked with wide eyes.

The elf nodded shortly; Katrina swiftly left the tent to find anyone that could assist her. Murmuring nonsense elvish, Legolas stroke Elain's hair back from her forehead, urging her to release his hand. When she finally did, he quickly, without thinking about it, removed the clothes from Elain's lower body. They were bloodied. He grabbed a blanket and covered her knees with it, so that she would at least be partially shielded from view. Right now he had not time to think of how wrong this would be seen, how angry anyone of Mankind would've been if they found out he had undressed her. Although on the other hand, he had clear reasons to.

The child was late. It could increase the risks of it being born unhealthy.

"…I'm afraid," Elain whimpered and was in too much pain to feel embarrassed.

"Do not be mellon nîn. It will be all right. It will be fine."

"If I don't make it…will you tell Horst to take care of…of the baby?"

Sudden tears sprang to his eyes, glazed them over, but he refused to let them fall. It would not do to break down in worry right now – he needed to stay a calm, focused support. "I promise," he said. "You will make this, Elain! I will not allow anything else."

His mind screamed out: 'Estel! Drop whatever you are doing and come to me right now!'

Elain's face screwed up in pain as another contraction hit her. It wasn't far between them now. Every minute felt like hours. Where was Aragorn, for Valar's sake? Did the man not know of the word "hurry"?

xXxXxXx

It was on the way between two tents as Katrina ran straight into a very familiar person, and she would've wanted to embrace and kiss him. However right now was not the time. She needed to find lord Aragorn, and then a healer, and hasten back to Elain's tent… What if the child…?

Roran's face lit up at the sight of her. It was visible that he was tired though. "Katrina! Why the hurry?"

"It's Elain," she said urgently; "She's finally gone into labour. I need to find lord Aragorn, he's a healer, and Horst; Legolas is with her right now. There's a high risk she'll loose her child."

His eyes widened. "I'll fetch Aragorn and Horst," Roran said, because he remembered where the king's tent was. "Go back to Elain! I'll meet you there shortly."

xXxXxXx

Just below a wide hill, the landscape continued to be flat but there was an occasional group of trees and there, far away, a small city was silhouetted against the sky. The men steered their horses down an old road, now with shields raised and weapons ready in case of attacks. The Varden was nearby and their hidden forces could assault them at any moment, if they weren't watchful, if they went through the land too loud…

They had been travelling for many, long days and Beregond's body ached, but at least he had had ability to rest and heal from earlier injuries that the Captain and his men had brought upon him. He was though. If not for his magical abilities, the Captain would never have found out about Middle Earth, Elessar or lord Faramir.

"How long shall we stay in the city, Captain?" wondered one of the men.

"As long as necessary," the Captain said, vague as always when he spoke. "There is someone rather important I have to assemble."

Who? Beregond wanted to know, but of course kept quiet. Important in what way? A governor or other, or a general, maybe even a spell weaver or a sorcerer like you?

XxXxXxXx

"What took you so long?" Legolas hissed in elvish as Aragorn, who looked rather unkempt, entered the tent. He forced to sound calm, to steady Elain's confidence. However his annoyance shone in his eyes when he glared at the man.

"I am terribly sorry but I had just put Eldarion to sleep when Roran came to fetch me, and it woke Eldarion again, and I had to make him go back to sleep before I could leave him," Aragorn explained quickly in the same tongue. "How is she?" He looked at the woman in the bed, fully as a healer, thinking practically. Katrina entered the tent a moment afterwards

Elain was covered in sweat. "She is in much pain," Legolas murmured, stroke back her hair and hummed soft elvish to her. "All will be fine," he quietly assured her.

"She's soon fully open. This was quick…I need some cloths," Aragorn instructed and Katrina helped him, searching through the packs lined against the wall. "And water," he added.

"I can't do this," Elain whimpered. "Where's Horst? Where is he?"

Briefly, Legolas flicked his eyes over to Aragorn. "Roran is fetching him; he will be here in any moment, do not worry," the man said assuringly. "You are doing good, Elain. Do not fear," the elf added.

She was practically squashing his hand but the elf allowed it; he kept encouraging her, mumbling to not give up hope. Everyone feared the baby would be lost and Legolas himself was anxious; today he did not want to bury an infant. No, he was convinced that he'd do everything he could to make Elain go through this, both she and her child alive. They had to live…

There was blood on the sheets and when Horst, Roran and Baldor peered inside, Aragorn ushered the latter two from the tent almost at once; he only allowed Horst to stay. "I am sorry, but too many people may cause too much stress," he tried to convince them.

"All right," Baldor said eventually. "But tell her we pray for her and the baby."

"I will."

Katrina stayed as well. Horst took seat on Elain's other side, since Legolas simply refused to go – and Elain didn't let go of his hand either. When seeing her husband and father of her child, she smiled weakly. "You came," she whispered.

"I'm here and I won't leave you," Horst promised. He sounded calm and happy, that his child was finally arriving, but Legolas could see the fear in his eyes.

"Legolas, keep her focused," said Aragorn in elvish; "focused on keeping certain parts of her body under control, and breathing. Breathe with her – let Horst breathe with her." Elain should feel the urge to push within minutes now. Everything was ready and Aragorn had taken a few deep breaths; he had to think methodically now, and push some emotions aside for later, in case the worst happened… He knew that Legolas was thinking in the same lines. Using the little knowledge he had in using his mind, he reached out to speak with Legolas in total privacy.

He felt that the elf was afraid, and it was strange to feel it this close by, this strong, where he was in Legolas' mind. 'She is weakening.'

'I will not let her die,' Aragorn swore him.

'What of the child? Can you save…?'

'I do not know…I do not know. My priority is to ease this for Elain and make her live. She has gone through many trials, much pain and stress, and it's taken their tool.'

Looking up at him, the elf's eyes met his own; Legolas briefly nodded. 'I know.'

Elain's screams filled the room, she held onto the hands of her husband and Legolas, tears shone in her eyes but she forced them back from falling. After a moment Legolas began to hum on an elven song; the lyrics were lost and meaningless but the melody soothed her, gave her hope and strength, and she leaned on his voice and Horst's arms.

It took a long time before she felt the urge to push – at least it felt like a long time, but they could not really determine how many minutes or hours that had passed.

xXxXxXx

Baldor paced anxiously back and forth. Albriech was there too with him, waiting outside the tent. People generally stayed away to give the birthing woman inside some privacy, but some villagers came and asked whether they could be of assistance. Aragorn forbade them to enter the tent – only Horst, himself, Legolas and Katrina were allowed, he said.

The smith's son couldn't help the feeling of dread. It was if as the king and healer knew that something was terribly wrong but refused to tell them yet.

"She will make it," Albriech murmured. "Mother will. She is strong."

Yes, but what about the baby? Baldor wanted to ask. He had been looking forward to having an addition to the family. It had been believed that the smith and his wife were not meant to have any more children after Albriech had been born, but now that had been proved wrong.

He sighed, and tried to stop pacing; he was only growing more worried. "I don't like waiting…"

xXxXxXx

She didn't want to do this. In her heart she knew, she knew… and Aragorn knew as well, and Legolas, their faces were shadowed with worry – her child…

Something between a sob and a scream left her lips and then it was over, after hours of struggling.

Utter silence filled the tent; then, eyes shut, Elain bean to cry.

Legolas did not want to believe it; but it had been a risk…It had been what they had expected. But he did not want this to be true. He looked like a ghost, for the first time his face only having open shock and disbelief.

Gently, like cradling a screaming bundle full of life, Aragorn wrapped the tiny, silent body in white sheets. Elain was totally pale, and she cried, but there were no tears. She had fought so much for this moment, for her child, just to have it all ripped away from her. Nothing could soothe her, no kisses or gentle comforting words, Horst's voice near her own, no love or friendship in the world could give back what she had just lost.

There was panic, as her breath slowed within her pained sobs. Horst was desperate, his heart weeping on the inside but like a slab of stone on the outside, icy cold; he didn't want to grasp this but was forced to. He might have pleaded but not in any concrete words.

Legolas acted on instinct, still clenching Elain's hand and thinking: This cannot be happening.

Maybe Aragorn had read his mind or he just loved and knew him so much, to know exactly what was going on in his mind; but he didn't know what the elf was up to, he didn't understand more than that a great grief settled over his heart. A pair of strong, familiar hands grasped his shoulders, but Legolas was already far away from that reality, solely focusing on the fading life-force in front of him.

There was no resistance, no surprise or shock, nor was there an onslaught of thoughts or memories. Her mind was like a small boat, alone in the ocean, consciousness floating barely on the surface.

He reached out for her and told her to hold on, hold on, and like in a dream world, the ghost of her took his hand and Legolas, smiling, willingly gave her one little gift, if so be his last – he had sworn – he had sworn she would live... She would live. Hold on. He could not give her back her child – but he could do this – he could give her back life.

xXxXxXx

"What are you doing, Legolas? Legolas?" Aragorn whispered even if he wanted to shout, he shook the elf's shoulders. The elf had closed eyes; after a few moments his body grew limp and fell back into the man's arms; panic clenched painfully at Aragorn's heart.

The same moment as the elf closed his, Elain opened her eyes and inhaled sharply - coming back from the brink between life and death. Confused, wide eyes looked around the room, found Horst's and smiled; then her eyes landed upon Aragorn, face ashen, and the unconscious elf.

"What happened?" she whispered hoarsely. Then: "Where's my child?" She met the stricken look of her husband. "Horst? My love? Where is he?"

xXxXxXx

"How is-"began Baldor but silenced when Aragorn, grim faced and with a lifeless elf in his arms, stepped out into the fading sunlight.

"What happened?" Roran asked worriedly, eyes flickering from the tent opening and to Legolas.

"I can't explain now, but…I am afraid that that the child did not live. Elain is awake. Baldor, you should go to her…" Aragorn's voice was heavy and downcast, even if he looked them in the eye. The two men looked startled and then Baldor set his jaw and entered the tent; Roran didn't leave yet.

"But what about Legolas?" he asked. He could not come up with any idea why the elf would be unconscious. And he was worried too, for Legolas had become a friend to him.

There was a pause, and then the king said: "I don't know, I don't know…He will have to clarify what happened when he wakes up." 'If he wakes up' were the unspoken words. Aragorn forced himself to keep under control, calm, supportive, but inside he wept of worry for Legolas.

Roran also looked concerned. "I need to go to Katrina, but can you tell me when he wakes up?" He gestured at the elf.

"I will." Aragorn nodded shortly, before he left in-between the tents in search for his own; his mind wandered to Eldarion, and he wondered how ever he should soothe the child, because he knew that the boy would be very upset to find his elven parent unresponsive and cold.

xXxXxXx

"Where's my child?" Elain repeated again. She looked around, barely missing the presence of Aragorn but aware now that the elf was gone as well, and she wondered where he was. He had been here just a minute ago… "Horst?" she asked, begging him to explain.

The tent held utter silence. Then Baldor entered, his face shadowed and eyes filled with sorrow. He and Horst would have to spell out the truth for her, and that would only cause her grief and harm, but they could not lie either. "…Mother?"

xXxXxXx

The Captain raised an eyebrow. Either he was surprised or he was both that and irritated. "He hasn't arrived yet?"

The boy looked frail beneath the Captain's gaze. "N-no Captain. He's sent word; he'll arrive in a few days... maybe a week…"

"Is there a cause for this delay?"

"He said there were some … unpredictable troubles along the way." The boy visibly swallowed. "I don't know anything more, sir."

"Very well. I will wait for him then – one week and not more. If he's not here then I will turn elsewhere and our deal is broken..."

xXxXxXx

Devastated and afraid, Katrina rushed into her fiancé's arms and sobbed. She was frightened and to have witnessed this stressed her more than ever watching men fight and die – a child dying at birth was like a nightmare. It was common among every villager, and they knew not to have too high hopes at any pregnancy – yet, she couldn't help having them herself.

Because soon, she and Roran was going to marry, and one of the reasons they had to marry quickly was because she was going to be a mother. It was inappropriate, but they would rather hurry than wait, because she risked loose her honour - she had already lost everything else.

"Shhh," Roran murmured and stroke her hair. "It's all right…"

"But what if it happens to us?" she whispered, terrified. "What if it happens, Roran?"

"It won't," he murmured and kissed her, rubbed her shoulders. "I won't let it happen. I'll be there for you."

xXxXxXx

They were quiet as they entered the city. It had a small gate only, being surrounded by wooden palisades – there was no strong outer wall of stone, no grand buildings shining in the sunlight, and just a few guards. On the outside the city looked reduced and vulnerable. However, in there resided soldiers in numbers of hundreds, alongside the townsfolk – ordinary people, peasants, women and children.

A sheet of worry and fear was layered over the city. It had been claimed by the Empire already, rather easily subdued, but an attack from the Varden's forces was imminent. The rebellions would do anything to get Cithrí back; the city had a rather strategic position, on the edge between Surda and the Empire. Reclaiming it would lead them closer to Urû'baen.

But Beregond didn't know any of the latter, since his knowledge of this land was very limited despite – or maybe because of – his capture.

The riding soldiers gathered outside a larger building, where the former governor had resided. They were split up and just a handful or so remained with the Captain, others went to other parts of the city, which more and more looked like a military camp.

The Captain with his few selected soldiers and Beregond, yet tied to the saddle, in tow went through the town. People either avoided looking at them or bowed their heads in respect. The Captain's face betrayed no emotion.

The first thing Beregond saw when the group rounded the next corner drove him to shock.

Orcs.

There were a hundred or maybe even more; row after row of these dark hideous creatures, standing on a wide field, edged by a few tents and fires. All were armed and grunting and talking amongst themselves, but silence fell when they saw the Captain and his company.

With wide eyes, Beregond surveyed the orcs. They seemed at first to have no kind of leader, but then an orc with a large helmet and an axe in its belt stepped forward and greeted the Captain. It spoke the Common tongue, but its voice was raw and each word felt false on its lips. Its face was twisted; curiously enough it had only one eye, probably having lost the other in a battle.

Galbatorix' soldiers seemed to fear them, but the Men didn't move from their posts – they didn't dare to. Beregond quickly realized that these orcs were allied with the new king's soldiers, and the same alliance had cause the attack of Gondor. Clearly, Galbatorix was at war in this land too... It felt more logical that Galbatorix was the attacker, or had the advantage, after all, the soldiers had spoken of rebellions; it was likely those tried to break the king and take him away from his throne. Yes, he had the upper hand and once he had this whole land beneath him, he would fully turn to Gondor. The previous battle may have been only a taste …

"Captain, what news from the Lord?"

The Captain's face was unreadable. "We will advance shortly. A group of rebellions has been sensed from the east – two or three dozen of them. When they come…" He brought his hand across his neck, as if cutting it off.

The orc nodded its foul head. "Yes, Captain. We'll do what He commands." The way he spoke of 'him', Galbatorix, it sounded as if the word should be spelled with a capital H.

A battle! Beregond thought; he could use it to his advantage. It could give me cover to escape, if the soldiers' attention is brought elsewhere…The city will surely be at chaos. There's my chance.

"Good. The Lord shall be very pleased." The captain paused momentarily before he continued. "He has given me command of this area with its forces, thus, you and your troops will through me follow Our Great King's orders. Do I make myself clear?"

Plain as glass, Beregond reflected. Either you're the King's puppet but believe you have power; or you truly have power and authority to do things in Galbatorix' name. Considering you're a mind-reader, I would not be surprised if you had your own secret plans to usurp the throne…

But how did these orcs come here? The same way as I did? And why – why is Galbatorix trying to fight two wars at the same time? Is he sure that this land will fall and then…Gondor will be easy to subdue? Has he found out its King is lost? That's a weakness he will surely use when he finds out…

xXxXxXx

Hurriedly he left for their tent; thankfully Eldarion was still asleep, oblivious to yet another death and his parent's critical state. Gently he lowered the elf onto the bed. Legolas' breathing was weak but regular, his heartbeat steady but sounding far-away – he was slipping away, little by little. Aragorn wished he'd known what had happened, what the elf had done or…Anything that could help him to heal. How could Aragorn help him recover without knowing the cause? Of course he could, but in the process he would worry his heart out.

You would anyway, he reminded himself.

"Legolas," he whispered, voice hitching in his throat, taking the elf's hand. It was yet warm; a sign of life; but it was pale as snow. Aragorn managed no more words, but kept holding his hand … An idea formed in his mind; he recalled just recent events and talks – he had heard Legolas' call for air in his head, loud and clear though they were away from each other… Could he call for Legolas now? Awaken him?

He reached out with his mind, like using a thought like a spear, closed his eyes; he concentrated on trying to find Legolas' mind. A thousand presences surrounded him, each one a different individual among the Varden – some guarded their minds well, others, maybe the villagers, were rather unprotected and he heard snippets of thoughts and flickering images – a myriad of senses and emotions. He drank everything like a man in the desert. In the chaos he tried to find Legolas.

The elf's mind was vulnerable and open, now when he was unconscious; he felt the elf's thoughts surround him, there was so much and grief and pain. So much that shouldn't be there. He felt confusion; Legolas didn't understand why, why this cruelty had to happen, why Elain, his dear friend, had to suffer like this, why her child would have to die. Or rather he understood that – but didn't want to – he was confused about death, it was yet an alien concept to grasp.

Memories flickered by; of Middle Earth, of Legolas as a mere elfling crying 'Ada! Ada! Look what I found, the bird has injured its wing, and can I keep it?' - and Alagaësia and Carvahall, the first fight against the ra'zac – Legolas as an adult, his first meeting with Aragorn – all those 'I love you, I love you', each word true and sincere– the battle at the Gates of Mordor. Sensations were so sharp Aragorn wanted to scream, cry, laugh, roar in anger and embrace anyone in joy all at the same time.

Aragorn had to pull his mind back into his body again to get some foothold and concentration. Then like taking a deep breath, he plunged back again. He tried to find Legolas' flickering awareness.

'Legolas! Legolas! Tolo dan na nin, saes, saes…!'

He felt his own thought pass through him, but didn't hear them – he knew what he said, but didn't move any lips to create the words. It was hard to concentrate on thinking in clear words and searching for Legolas' fëa, which must be sparkling somewhere deep in his mind. 'Legolas,' he called out again; 'Meleth…'

There was no reply, no movement, and no stirrings. He had too high hopes…

Evening fell and nothing happened. He started to loose hope, energy and focus. He had to pull back his mind several times to regain some of the latter. Only when he glanced around and noticed the darkness, he realized how long time had passed.

When Eldarion awoke he had to give up on trying waking Legolas through his mind, and instead took care of his son. Eldarion saw the elf and felt his presence, and was upset when Legolas didn't react at all when the child reached out and cried for him; Aragorn had to carry him outside the tent to be able to distract him. Although the man sometimes smiled at the child and praised him, talked to him, his eyes were filled with worry and weight and Eldarion seemed to be affected, for he was less willing to play games and laugh.

When the boy needed to rest as well, and he wasn't pleased until his cradle was placed next to Legolas' still form on the bed, so that the child could see him.

While his son slept and lover yet threaded unconscious dreams, Aragorn watched them over.

xXxXxXx