Arwen's call came to Aragorn with no emotion aside from a blissful memory of warm, outstretched arms and his own grey eyes. He physically reached for her, but there was nothing in response and he could not touch her mind at all. But there was something not right; he could feel that she was not well. There was also, without a doubt, an underlying current of malice in these woods that he had never felt before. He knew in his heart that Nardur had found her; he simply knew it.
Aragorn saw the black tied to the tree first, so he knew Nardur was very close. Brego had seen him as well so he gained a bit more speed, extending his trot and jostling Aragon's already painful hip. There was a flash of color between the trees, and then the woods opened up just enough for his heart to drop into his toes and his blood to curdle in his veins. Nardur stood over her, her body between his legs, his hands near her chest. It took Aragorn's brain a moment to process what he was seeing as the man yanked upward hard; there was a glint of silver and a spray of blood as he withdrew the knife from her shoulder with effort, Arwen's body sickeningly bucking up towards him until gravity pulled her body from the knife and she dropped back against the ground. Nardur raised the knife, and terror filled Aragorn. She was going to die—she was going to die mere feet from him and he was going to watch it from the back of a horse!
He could not believe that Ilúvatar would have brought him this far from home, dragged him hundreds of miles all the way back here for her to die right before his eyes. He refused to believe it. Instead, he felt Brego twist beneath him to tear between two narrow trees and leap a fallen log as he heard himself shout at the top of his lungs.
"No, Nardur! No!"
The man was so stunned by the shouting, at hearing the King's voice, that his head whipped up and as his gaze left her, he faltered; it gave Brego the half-second he needed to come on to him. The horse reared, lashing out with his front feet to strike the man in the shoulder with his hooves, throwing him from her body. Brego came down directly on either side of her, screaming like a wild animal, snorting and stomping and throwing his head. Aragorn dropped down from the bay, crumpling to one knee as his hip gave out, but catching himself with a hand before going all the way down. His hand landed on Arwen's calf, and he clutched her like a lifeline, suddenly gasping for breath as he turned his head to look at her face.
But he could not see anything past the bright blood flowing from the wound in her shoulder. Forgetting Nardur laying on the ground not even feet away, he hunched forward and crawled beneath Brego's belly, unclasping his cloak and bunching it up to press to the wound—it was all he had.
"Arwen…Arwen…" he moaned, and he finally looked down into her face as he tried to stem the flow of blood. She was lost in the tunic that hung on her frame; she had lost a huge amount of weight in a very short amount of time. The front of the tunic had been sliced open as well as her chest, a deep slash from collarbone to navel, straight down the center of her breasts. Near this terrible cut there were nail marks and bruising across her breasts and chest. Horrified, and filled with grief at the sight of her in such a condition, he leaned on her wound with his bad arm and with his good hand felt at her throat. Her heartbeat was so weak. "What have you done?" he whispered, his breath catching in his horror at the thought of losing her.
"I would never have expected you."
The wary voice came from in front of him, and he lifted his head to see Nardur, holding his own shoulder where Brego had struck him. The horse was keeping a watchful eye on the councilman, and pawed the earth with one foot, threatening him—if he took a step toward them, Brego would attack the man again. How Aragorn knew that, he did not know, but with his own angry eyes fixed on Nardur, he moved the trembling hand from her throat and gently took the torn tunic over her breast, working to cover her nakedness.
"You did not want me," Aragorn replied, his voice low and enraged. "You made sure, in every possible way that I would not be here for your scheming…that I would do exactly as you hoped…as you expected."
"And you did," Nardur agreed, his voice a bit stronger, "except for this." Aragorn saw the glint of the bloody knife in his hand; he assumed it was to protect himself.
Aragorn's eyes trailed down the cut in her body, and he plied his fingers gently along her ribcage where he had also noticed serious bruising—broken, as suspected. His fingers trembled as he made a fist with them, but wanting to beat Nardur senseless when he was barely capable was not helping. Instead, he raised his eyes to the man again, his so dark, like storm clouds before a violent storm, and put more pressure on his cloak over the wound.
"What were you going to do to her?" he asked.
Nardur supposed direct was best. "Kill her," he replied, and he was amazed at how easy it was to say the words.
"This was more than that, you lying rat," Aragorn hissed.
"She made me angry," he stated, trying to think if he could get to his horse before the clearly wounded King could catch him. Would he even try with his wife in such a condition—that was the question. "Gondor needs an heir! I have said it many times, to your face!" he began to roar. "The Lady Erumar—"
"Do not even speak her name!" shouted Aragorn back at him. "What you have done to her we shall not even speak of!"
"She is the perfect choice for a wife, for a mother!" Nardur snarled. "Your son's mother! I came here to finish the job so you would have to choose Erumar instead. I never expected, so soon after betraying her, that you would come here. But I knew if she were dead, you would have to choose Erumar!"
"Would I?" he growled, his voice lowering in fury. "What kind of fool do you think I am? I would lose the love of my existence and then fall into the arms of another simply because you thought it should be so?"
"You would have made the right decision for Gondor!" Nardur shouted back. "You could have done nothing else but save Gondor. You are a man of sacrifice, Elessar. You would have."
"You are a fool," Aragorn snapped, pressing down on her wound again. He watched as Nardur glanced towards his horse again and he snatched a rock from the ground left handed and flung it at the man in his anger. "Look at me!" he shouted, grasping his undivided attention again. "You think you know what is best for this realm, yet you continue to place it in jeopardy by threatening me and my family. You have very neatly torn apart my life, a life I assume you must care enough about that you hoped to preserve it forever. What was it you told her? What was it you told her that made her doubt me? I saw the ring; she would never have believed—"
Nardur laughed aloud. "Oh, it would not have worked had she seen it, but it worked enough for the Prince to believe, and I knew he would never give it to her. You did the rest of it yourself; I only told her what she knew already: that she was barren and could never provide for you, both of which are true. She completely, utterly believed that you had committed adultery against her. She begged me to take her life. Begged."
Aragorn wanted to heave, and then he wanted to destroy the man utterly. Taking his life just then would not have been a good enough punishment. But he could not release Arwen's wound to throttle him, so he held fast to her, praying for help to arrive. He met the councilman's eyes again. "Arwen is not barren, she never was, and she is not now. I have seen that child; that future is not lost. You have forced me to bear all sort of trouble so that you could see whoever you see fit upon the throne."
"Not whoever," Nardur shouted, "your son! Is that too much to ask?"
"For her life, yes," Aragorn stressed, "far too much." Nardur spat on the ground as an insult to Arwen, but he continued. "And yet even in all your scheming, you had already failed, Nardur; even before this moment. You congratulated yourself on your great plan, your success, yet there was one thing you did not foresee: I did not betray my wife. Ethring failed; I did not lie with Erumar, so your hopes are dashed, all your plans to 'save Gondor' end here. Instead, you will face trial with your comrade."
Nardur stared at him in disbelief. He would never have imagined that anyone could conquer that drug. "How…how is that even possible? The plan was nearly perfect!"
"The drug worked as you intended, but the will of good is stronger than the will of evil, thank Ilúvatar." His eyes narrowed as he spoke, and he pressed down harder onto the wound in her shoulder. At least the bleeding had finally slowed. "You lose, Nardur, as all evil plans and evil deeds always do, one way or another. You are finished."
Nardur's shock wore off quickly, and he shook his head. "No, no…even in my failures I am not finished. You cannot leave her, and I can escape rather quickly."
In a flash, he hurried to his horse and untied him, clambering unsteadily into the saddle—clearly, Brego had injured him when he had struck him with his feet. Brego was highly irritated at the moment, stamping and rearing as Aragorn watched him from Arwen's side. The man was right; he was in no condition to follow him, and he would never leave Arwen in such a condition.
"Easy, mellon nîn," he murmured to the bay, who squealed in disgust. His eyes were fixed on Nardur as he turned his horse away north.
"Farewell, Elessar," he sneered. "I hope that there are others within Gondor that will do what is necessary for the glory of Gondor preserved, not what is best for personal gain. I thought you would choose that as well, but it seems that you are not quite the King I thought you were." Aragorn made no move except to lower his eyes to Arwen's bruised face.
"My Lord!"
The words came from the east, and Nardur immediately spurred his horse and took off between the trees. Aragorn praised Ilúvatar for the timely arrival of Mennev and Hildanir. As they rode into view, he dropped to his butt on the ground beside Arwen, taking pressure from his hip.
"My god, what happened?!" shouted Hildanir, and Aragorn raised his head.
"Mennev, Nardur rode between those trees, straight north," he said, "can you track him and then return here to follow Arwen's trail to Legolas's home?" His gaze was pained. "Please tell me you do not need assistance, for I am desperate for Hildanir's aid." The younger man was already dismounting.
"My King," the Captain said with an easy grin, "it'd be my genuine pleasure." He spurred Dusday directly on the path where Nardur had disappeared. If he had to track him all night, he would see it done.
"What can I do?" Hildanir asked immediately, coming close to the King as he removed his cloak.
"She is terribly wounded," he said, "though I think I have stopped the bleeding. I only have the use of one arm, and it is difficult. Would you—" Hildanir leaned over behind him as Brego side-stepped off of her and he laid his cloak over her to cover her more modestly, but it was difficult not to notice the numerous scars, scrapes, and bruises she bore, or the blood from the deep cut seeping through the tunic front. He swallowed as he knelt down beside Aragorn, placing his hand over the wound.
"Did…did my uncle do these things to her?" he asked Aragorn, and the man sighed softly.
"A few of them, yes…but not all," he replied. "Some of these she did herself out of pain, grief." He shook his head. "I do not know if you can understand…"
"I can," Hildanir said softly. "I do. I saw her, and you, after she had been poisoned. I know what it did to her in the past, and this would have been much worse."
"Much," Aragorn agreed. "We need to get her to Legolas's home, to warmth. Her heart is weak; she has lost so much blood—"
"And she is freezing cold," Hildanir added worriedly, touching her face. He slowly lifted the edge of the cloak that Aragorn had placed over the wound, nodding. "The bleeding here has stopped, but…if we move her without bandaging it, it will begin anew."
Aragorn nodded. "I will assist you," he stated, and Hildanir looked at him nervously. "Then you will have to lift her up into Brego's saddle and ride with her on the way to Legolas's home. She is in desperate need of healing."
There was anxiety in Hildanir's face. "Aragorn, can you not—"
"Hildanir, I am…weak," he replied. "As much as I would prefer to be the one to hold her, I am incapable of such a deed. I would have no other but Brego, and I would trust no other than you, if you will, to carry her, protect her."
He met the soldier's eyes, and in them he saw a reverence and devotion for Arwen's life that moved his heart. "I would be honored, my Lord," he replied softly, touching his hand to his chest.
"Then go," Aragorn said kindly, and Hildanir rose as he continued, "get the dressings you carry in your saddlebags. We have much to do now and little time."
As the young man hurried away, Aragorn looked back down into her face. Yes, the immediate need was to repair her physical wounds, but…the scars on her heart would be the worst to heal. Getting them all back into the saddle was going to be challenging, but it was necessary. There was nothing he could do alone but wait for Hildanir, so instead he prayed that Ilúvatar might give him just enough strength to heal her, just enough strength to call her back, just enough strength to save her life. She lived still, and she was in his arms; all he had to do was trust Ilúvatar now to keep her there.
Even though she was in labor, Enguina felt nothing but relief at being home again. She was sitting on the edge of a bed that was not hers; it had in fact, been Erumar's for too long, and it annoyed her that she was there to begin with, however, it was the best place, for if she were going to destroy sheets then this was the room to do it in. Legolas, true to his word, had brought her straight home, no concern at all about finding the location of the house; Legolas had always had an innate sense of direction. He was seated beside her at the moment, his hand on her leg; he had insisted on carrying her into the house which she could not refuse. After she had changed into something more comfortable, gotten her finger cared for, and had cleaned up, there he was trying to convince her to lie back, at least a little. She was still exhausted, and Legolas felt she should take it easy while she could. He was probably right.
When the little one inside her was finally ready to actually make his appearance, she would be wishing that she was more rested. She laid her hand over his and he watched and studied her face as she gave him a tight little smile.
"Another?" he asked, and one of his hands strayed to her belly where he felt the tightness of her muscles. Her eyes closed and she nodded as she let her breath out.
"They are not so bad…" she murmured. "They simply take me by surprise. I do not notice them building until they are already upon me." She began to relax a little, though that one—
"That was a little longer, was it not?" he asked solicitously. Enguina had to smile.
"Just a few seconds," she replied, lifting her other hand to squeeze his. "Not enough change to show the baby is any more ready than he was a few minutes ago." She gave him a little smile. "Do not worry; I am sure he is fine."
"I am not only concerned for him, my dove," he told her gently, rubbing her belly gently. "I am also concerned for you. I…do not much like watching the air leave your lungs."
She laughed softly. "I do not enjoy the feel of it either," she added, leaning over to press her lips to his cheek. "We are both going to be fine."
Then he saw her lips draw to a line. "What is it?" he asked, and she frowned.
"I am worried about Arwen," she replied honestly.
"She is going to be fine as well. The Gondorians—"
"You did not see her Legolas," she whispered. "You have no idea of her condition, and not only physical, but emotionally, mentally…she was a mess. The last few days…"
"Tell me," he said, and he silently prayed for Aragorn, for strength for all of them.
"Legolas, you would barely know her," she murmured, tears in her eyes. "I know it was bad when we left, but this was so much worse. Her clothes just…they simply hung on her, as though they were three sizes too large. She could barely walk; her knees trembled so badly and her balance was off. The last few days she would hold the walls as she moved from room to room, exhausted by everything she was doing. She could hardly hold a conversation; she…she attempted to kill herself two nights ago…"
Legolas hugged her shoulders against his chest. "I cannot imagine what that must have been like for you. I am so sorry, Guin."
"It was my fault she was out running in the woods this morning," she murmured. "Last night, I was so worried about her that I locked her in the guest room. When I checked on her this morning, I was worried about leaving her in the house locked up, afraid to offend—as if that should have mattered! I unlocked the door…if I had not, she would have still been here."
"I should never have allowed you both to come out here alone," Legolas whispered, "to allow you to face this alone…"
"You wanted to have my hope," she whispered, her tears falling, "but there is none left. A few days ago, perhaps…but not now." She lifted her face to look into his eyes. "Maybe it is better this way…maybe she did the right thing. Perhaps it will be better if the men who went looking for her do not find her, if Nardur does not…" Her breath caught and she tried to prevent herself from sobbing. "To say goodbye…to say goodbye would be impossible…"
"No, no," he said, holding her now against him fully. "Do not say things like that; we can save her…we will save her…"
"How?"
He shook his head, kissing the top of hers. "I do not know, but I know that we cannot help her if she is in the middle of the woods alone, so Eru-willing, they will find her. They must find her, before it is too late, if she is as unwell as you say." He felt her try to rein in her tears and felt her muscles tighten again; she clung to him, leaning her face into his neck. "Are you—"
"Fine," she said. "You will have to stop asking me that. It is only a contraction."
"It makes me edgy," he replied. "I do not know if I can stop asking."
"They will only get worse," she told him gently. "You need to get used to it. Erum—I was told by several people that they might go on for hours." She had almost mentioned her, and she did not want to talk about her; even if they were in her room.
"That is why I was advising you to lie back and take some rest now, while you can. Perhaps the contractions, being so far apart still, may not wake you and you can sleep a little." He tilted his head and kissed the top of hers. "Come now, let me help you get comfortable on this bed."
"What if…what if Nardur returns?" she asked quietly. She felt every muscle of his that was touching her tighten.
"I will kill him myself," he told her flatly. And she felt just enough rage in him to know that he was not bluffing; the man had touched her, injured her with the intent to harm, and even if it was that she had been in labor before he had begun kicking her, as far as Legolas was concerned he was as much to blame for endangering the life of his child as Vändir had been. The man would not survive another encounter with Legolas.
Enguina closed her eyes. Lord, please keep our baby healthy; help me to trust you for this, for everything—
For Arwen, for her safety. Legolas's voice continued in her head. My Father, I pray for Guin, that you would give her strength for this and that you would bring our baby into the world whatever way you intend. Please, make her labor as easy as it can be—I was not made to see her in pain.
Bless my Legolas, please! He needs the strength even more than I do. Be beside him!
She felt him lift her chin and kiss her gently. "Thank you. I love you," he told her, and she smiled.
"I know, and I love you, too. Thank you for joining in."
"I love it when we are close and I can hear your thoughts," he added. "I missed that. I never wanted to be parted from you again, and I was…twice…and during your pregnancy."
"Do not blame yourself," she replied, leaning into him again as she sighed. "Gimli would never have forgiven you, and…I truly thought it would have helped Arwen to be here. I will let you make me comfortable if you will get me something to eat afterwards. I am starving, and I am thirsty as well."
He laughed. "I think I can handle that."
The barn smelled like home when Brego walked into it, and Aragorn had never felt more relief at arriving in a place than he did just then. He dismounted almost immediately and did not bother trying to catch himself on anything but his left leg; his right was done. Dragging the nearly dead weight, he reached up to hold Arwen as Hildanir dismounted and then took her down himself into his arms.
Aragorn ached to hold her, but there was nothing he could do; he had to trust his lieutenant to care for her at least until they were inside the house. Instead, he reached over and laid a hand on her throat again.
"She is weak," Hildanir said, his concern all over his face. "I cannot feel her heartbeat, and I am afraid she began bleeding again during the ride."
"Her heart is faint," Aragorn murmured. "We must get her inside where I can try to heal her; we are going to need hot water and bandages to clean these wounds thoroughly." Aragorn laid a hand on Brego's neck. "Mellon, Hildanir will come out for you both when Arwen is settled. Please, be patient." The bay snorted and nudged him—it was clear what he wanted. "Thank you."
"How are you making it to the house?" Hildanir, thankfully, was a strong man, seeming to carry Arwen without difficulty, but to hold up Aragorn as well? That would be impossible.
Aragorn gave him a ragged smile. "I shall endure. If I do collapse on the way there, you be sure to get her inside and out of this cold first. If she gets ill now—"
"She will never survive," Hildanir agreed, nodding.
"You can come back for me later."
Hildanir rolled his eyes. "Ilúvatar, give me strength, and save me from the House of Telcontar. I do not know if I can take more of the stress."
"I will need you, inside," Aragorn said seriously.
"I will do whatever I can," Hildanir said, holding Arwen more tightly. Aragorn nodded.
"I know you will."
The banging of the front door woke Enguina out of her hour-long restless sleep and made Legolas sit up straight as she grabbed his hand tightly.
"What was that?" she asked, and he winced as he got to his feet.
"Possibly the rest of our party," he admitted.
"Could they have brought Arwen back?" she asked, concern on her face as she gripped his hand. "You do not think it is Nardur, do you?"
He was concerned now. There was no way he could stop her from finding out about Aragorn, if it was him or Hildanir or Mennev. He had wanted all of this explanation to wait until after the babe was born. This was not good; she did not need this.
"No," he replied. "No, I do not. But let me go and be sure the Gondorians know—"
"Legolas!" called a voice from down the hallway. There could be no mistaking whose it was.
Damn.
Her nails dug into his hand and he lifted his eyes to hers as she stared at him in shock, her mouth gaping open. In a flash, that surprise turned to furious, uncontrollable anger.
"You did not!" she cried out, her blood boiling under her skin as tears came to her eyes. "He is not here by accident!"
"Enguina, wait—"
"You brought him here," she snarled, "after all he has done?! After committing adultery with Erumar, you let him into our home?!" A contraction caught her by surprise and her breath left her in a rush as he covered her hand with his.
"Guin," he whispered, but the lowering of his voice did nothing to placate her.
"Prince Legolas!" That was not Aragorn.
"And you brought Hildanir?!" she gasped out.
"Take it easy," Legolas tried again. "Let me—"
"Take it easy?!" she quoted him. "I cannot 'take it easy!' You have not seen your best friend try and take her own life with a butter knife from the table!" Tears fell from her eyes and she rubbed at them furiously. "How could you! Did you see her at all when she was with us in Gondor? Did you see what his leaving didto her?"
"Enguina, you need to calm down," he murmured urgently. "Think of the baby."
"I am," she snapped. "I cannot believe you brought those liars, those scheming evil men into our home!" She winced as pain fired through her back. "I am so furiously angry with you!"
"If you would only let me explain—"
"Legolas, help us! Please!"
It was desperation he heard in Aragorn's voice and he looked at Enguina with eyes that begged her forgiveness. "I have to leave you for a few minutes. I have to."
"You are going to leave me for him?"
"Not for him, for her, I think," he said, and she yanked her hands from his and turned her face away, trembling with anger.
"Do not even speak to me," he heard her spit out under her breath.
"Please, Guin…be reasonable." She did not answer, and he had no choice—he had to leave her side. "Please, stay in bed. I will return in a moment; then I will…try to explain, I swear it."
He turned and darted down the hall, bursting into the sitting room in disarray and very nearly running into a soaking-wet Hildanir, Arwen in his arms. He cried out when he saw her, both filthy and bloody, wrapped in a cloak, her bare legs hanging over Hildanir's arm. Then he caught sight of a wet Aragorn leaning heavily against the table behind them.
"Ai, Elbereth!" Legolas called out. "My god, what happened to her?"
"I need somewhere to lie her down," Hildanir replied urgently. "She is wounded grievously and her heart weakens by the moment. Please, Prince—"
"This way," he said and turned back into the hallway to the room Arwen had been in. "You can lay her here. What do you need? What can I do?"
Aragorn limped along directly behind them. "Athelas," the man replied, exhaustion in his voice. "Hot water. Bandages. Ointment for pain and healing, if you have something of the like."
As soon as Legolas stepped back to let Hildanir pass him, he turned back down the hall to the bath where he had brought water in for Enguina before, grasping some bandages along the way. He took it immediately back to the kitchen where he placed it in a kettle. As he waited for it to sing, he began searching for the herbs Aragorn had asked for. His hands began to tremble as he thought of how pale Arwen was, and he left the kitchen when all was ready to return to the room, stopping at the threshold as he watched, holding the bag of herbs and water.
Hildanir had shrugged off his cloak, he now stood beside Aragorn as the man sat on the right side of the bed beside Arwen. His eyes were averted as Aragorn carefully opened up her tunic; the light pouring into the room from the windows left nothing to be imagined, and Legolas, unlike Hildanir, could not tear his eyes away. Not only had she been injured by a knife, but the bruising across her breasts and ribs was unbelievable. And she was terribly thin, just as Enguina had said, and so pale. Her skin was white against her wet, dark hair, and her body trembled as she lay there. He watched as Aragorn also looked away, but in grief at what had happened to her, at what had been done to her. But it was only for a second, and then one of his hands was on her throat again.
"Nardur—" Legolas began, but Hildanir interrupted him.
"Yes," he said, "my Uncle nearly killed her."
"She was already well on her way," Aragorn said softly, and by the set of his shoulders, Legolas could see how much that statement destroyed him.
"Mennev is hunting him down right now," Hildanir added with a snarl.
"The water is here," Legolas said gently, nodding to Hildanir. Aragorn's head came up and he looked to Hildanir first as the man moved to take the items from Legolas and set them on the nightstand nearby.
"You must cleanse these wounds, Hildanir," he said, "and reapply the bandages. I will be of little use to you, my healing faculties are needed elsewhere, for more grievous injuries. I am afraid…" He hesitated to speak the words aloud, and Hildanir and Legolas stared at him. "I fear that she fails by the moment; she is letting go of what little hold she has to this world. She is giving up."
"She is barely breathing," Legolas added.
"She cannot do that," said Hildanir suddenly. "You must save her, my Lord!"
"I will give all I can," Aragorn said seriously, and Hildanir moved immediately to her side himself, shoving aside his embarrassment at her state of dress in the face of his determination to save her and began to remove the rest of the tunic around the wound in her shoulder. Aragorn lifted his eyes to Legolas then. "Tell me quickly of Enguina; I assume you found her. Is she well?"
"Furious that you are here and that I allowed you to set foot in Ithilien without having every one of my kin fire arrows at your heart." Aragorn raised an eyebrow, and Legolas shrugged gently. "She may not have said all of those words entirely, but I know that she was thinking every last one. Her feelings of animosity extend towards Hildanir as well."
"Cheers," the man replied as he worked.
Aragorn attempted a smile. "I thought I heard her melodic voice."
Legolas snorted. "Yes, if you can melodically shout."
Aragorn spoke again as he began crushing athelas into the nearest bowl, the fragrance filling all the room, giving them all strength, "Had Nardur found her?"
"Yes," he said, and he cringed as Enguina's voice echoed in his mind as she called him softly. "She is in labor." Aragorn stared at him in surprise, and even Hildanir froze and turned to look at him. "From what she said, it appears that Nardur had a hand in it, though it was not only him. I think the stress of the whole situation with Arwen appears to have given her enough anxiety and her running about this morning in the woods did not help either. In fact, that wholly may be the reason," he admitted.
Aragorn truly did smile then. "I am so grateful to Ilúvatar for this."
Legolas looked taken aback. "Grateful? She is early and—"
"I thought that I would entirely miss your child's birth. Now, I am here," he said softly. "I am thankful to him for providing a way for me to be here, even if—"
"The rest of the circumstances are awful?" interjected Hildanir.
"Yes," he continued in the same quiet voice.
"I…cannot be grateful," Legolas said, feeling as though he should have been running to Enguina's side. "I was not ready."
"No one ever is for these matters," he replied soothingly as Hildanir gently began cleaning the wound that split Arwen's chest. "Everything will be fine. Do not panic. How far along is she?"
"It might be four hours at best; the contractions remain several minutes apart. The last one was the strongest she has had yet." His voice was growing increasingly stressed and Aragorn knew he simply needed some encouragement.
"Are you encouraging her?"
"Yes."
"Then everything will be fine," he said gently. "Return to her side, Legolas; you have done all that you can for Arwen. Enguina will be in labor for some time yet, but she will likely want to push before she should be, most women do. Her body will do most of the work, but when the baby starts to crown you may need to help her. You are looking for enough width for the child to get his head through."
Legolas's eyes widened. "Push before…when the…crown…width?"
"Legolas, hear me," he said, his voice low and comforting as he closed his eyes with quiet patience. "If I had not said a word, if I had never shown up at all, you would have been fine and made it through this on your own. Your wife needs you now; this is no time to panic."
Legolas breathed out a sigh and seemed to come back to himself. "You are right, of course. I do know what to look for; I remember your advice on the way. But…"
"He is going to be right here," Hildanir said, glancing up with a smirk at the elf. "You need not worry, Prince."
Aragorn truly smiled once more. "Where else would I be?"
Legolas watched him as Aragorn placed his hand over her heart. "Heal her, Aragorn. Make all of this right."
"Pray, Legolas," he replied softly, "that it is Ilúvatar's will that she returns. Go back to Enguina."
The man turned his face back to Arwen and closed his eyes, bowing his head. Legolas watched Hildanir continue to clean her wounds for a moment, but then he turned himself and walked back down the hall. There was nothing he could do but pray; he needed to be with his wife. He came into the room and went to her side where she was reaching out to him, a hand extended. He took and kissed it.
"I am glad you are back," she said, her voice tight with stress. "That last one…it hurt."
"Forgive me," he replied, holding her hand to his chest as he bent forward and kissed her forehead. "I should have come back more quickly."
"I am still angry with you," she stated, averting her eyes.
He attempted to flash her a smile, to tease her. "Is it difficult to be glad I have returned and angry with me at the same time?"
She glared at him. "Do not be so full of yourself that you think I am still not seething about what you have done."
His attempt at levity had clearly failed. He lowered his eyes with humility and squeezed her hand again. "I promise that there is an explanation. I promise you that he is still the man we believed him—"
"She felt him, Legolas," she repeated from before. "She felt him. I know what it would be like to feel that from you. It would destroy me! That cannot be faked; she was not tricked or fooled. She felt him!" She stared at him. "He cast her aside and found another and yet you allowed him into our home, and…and let him touch her. How could you?"
"I promise," he whispered, "that it is not as it seems. I will tell you the truth about all of it, but…I think now you should be resting honestly."
"You should tell me now," she insisted. "I am already angry, and nothing can make that worse."
"Guin," he whispered again, leaning his forehead upon hers, "can you let it be for now? This does not make your labor any easier."
She shook her head. "You are the one who allowed him inside our home after—"
"Arwen is here," he interrupted her gently. "Focus on that, Enguina. That was what you wanted above all else, for her to be safe, yes?"
She wanted to explode at him. How could she be safe when she was with the men who betrayed her? She hotly began to ask the question just as Legolas's eyebrows rose. "Fine," she growled, "I will drop it. So the 'Gondorians' found her?"
"Yes, they brought her here from the woods."
He could see the stress take over her eyes, and it was not only from the labor. "How is she? Did they get to her in time? Did they find Nardur?"
"Arwen is unwell," Legolas said softly, "but that you already knew. Nardur was with her when they found her, but they were able to stop him in time. Mennev is still hunting the man as we speak."
"So they did not kill him." She scowled. "For what he has done—"
"There will be plenty of time for that, I am sure," Legolas said, laying a hand on her suddenly tightening belly. Her eyes closed and she held her breath. He smiled at her. "You are supposed to try and take deep breaths."
"Ugh…you try that when a ten-pound child is trying to tear apart your insides," she wryly replied, but then sobered again. "Tell me about Arwen. You said she is unwell. Do you mean—"
"She is weak and tired," he said for the moment, knowing that she was going to holler at him when she discovered the truth. But he wanted her rested and she needed to rest, not go running down the hall to a room where she did not belong. "She will…she will be well again."
Enguina scoffed at him, her eyes tight from the contraction. "Because he has returned?"
Legolas lowered his eyes, dragging his hand gently along her belly during the contraction. "Yes," he replied softly, "and I praise Ilúvatar for it."
"What elaborate lies can the man tell this time that we will all believe?" she snorted, rolling her eyes. "He has so clearly woven them so fluently this time that even you have fallen for them again!"
"When you understand all of the circumstances," he replied softly, "you shall be less judgmental and more forgiving." A stubborn, irritated expression appeared in her eyes. "Though," he added wryly, "that seems quite a feat with the way you are reacting. I will tell all, once you are rested."
"I am not like you, Legolas," Enguina said sternly as he looked back into her face. "I do not forgive easily. Not after so much hurt. She…Arwen has been in such pain. I cannot forgive such a grievous offense." She looked at him pointedly. "Nor should you."
"Resting, my Guin," he told her gently, bending forward to press his lips to her more relaxed womb. "Besides, I was asking him about you; I wanted to be sure I know what I am doing…in case I am very much alone during this delivery."
Enguina's expression suddenly darkened. "You asked…you asked him about me?"
"Ar—"
"Do not say his name aloud," she warned. Legolas sighed, scooting closer to the top of the bed. He reached out, stroking his fingertips along her face, saying nothing. "Do not attempt to sway me, Legolas. I will not be so easily enticed to believe he has reformed."
"I asked him," he said, choosing to answer one of her earlier questions, "because he knows a thing or two about birthing babies."
"If he knows so much," she snapped, "why does he not have his own?"
Legolas met her eyes, staring at her, and she immediately regretted her words, thinking of Arwen's devastated face. Her head dropped back against the pillow; even if she hated him, there was no cause for such a remark. "I am sorry," she added softly as she closed her eyes. "I should not have said that. It was wrong."
"Yes, it was," Legolas began, but she interrupted him.
"Yet I remain furiously angry about him, wrong or not," she added, and then he felt her knees tighten suddenly against his hip as she winced in pain with a gasp. "Ooo…that…hurts." She was gripping his hand as an anchor, and when her hand finally began to loosen he stared down at her.
"Guin…I hate this," he told her bluntly.
A burst of laughter came from her mouth. "Dearest, it is not fun for me either. But…this is nothing. When we hold out son, it will be nothing next to the joy we feel."
He nodded, but his eyes still held his concern. "Can I get you anything at all to make this easier?"
"Your presence is enough," she replied, squeezing his hand again, though this time just because.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I love you. Close your eyes again and try to rest a bit more. It has been a long day, and the baby is not ready yet." When he leaned back, he saw she already had her eyes closed. "I will not leave your side."
"I would not mind you skipping out for just a moment to be sure Arwen is all right," she said honestly. "I do not trust her alone with anyone, especially—"
"Yes, yes. I promise I shall know more about her condition when you wake. Now hush," he teased, and a little smile appeared on her face in spite of the order. "I promise that all was simply not as it seemed."
"You keep saying that," she replied, her voice dry and tired, "but I need more to believe it."
"You shall have it," he promised again. "When there is need to focus on that and not staying rested for delivering a child."
