That night, snug in their bed, Lorna said, "We need to talk birth control. I never, ever want to do this again."

Ratiri pulled her close. "I would say tubal ligation and vasectomy, but given that Thranduil's healing of your uterus was unintentional, I'm not certain those would keep. You're too old to safely take hormonal birth control. That leaves us with condoms, which tend to have a high success rate - though not as high as the package claims. And to be perfectly honest with you, I've never actually worn one, so I'd need to, er, practice. It's simple enough on a banana, but quite different on yourself."

Lorna looked at him. "A banana ?"

"I forget you didn't get that far in school," he said, laughing. "In sex ed, that's how they teach it now - put one on a banana. I had to do it as a guest lecturer in several schools, because the teacher was too embarrassed."

She burst out laughing. "Christ, allanah, I wish I could've seen that."

"No, you don't," he said dryly. "Watching thirty fourteen-year-olds giggle makes it very difficult to keep a straight face yourself."

She rested her head against his shoulder. "Okay, so there's that. Some guys don't like them, though."

"I'm sure I'll live," he said, more dryly still. "And if all else fails, and things go...awry, there's always England."

"I know. I'm just not sure what it'd do to our relationship with the elves, though. For all I know, they'd not forgive me." And she really, really didn't think she could handle that. They'd become too much a part of her life now. "God, maybe we could get some morning-after pills through Niamh. That'd take care'v the issue before it became an issue."

"And it's not even abortion," he said, "it just keeps the egg from implanting in the uterus." Hopefully the Elves could make that distinction, though of course they couldn't be sure.

Lorna yawned. "Worry about it later," she said. "Sleep."

Thanadir was completing his duty in patrolling the forest late that morning, and had taken the electronics to the cottage as had been his usual custom. His last act was to stop at the mailbox, where he saw another package addressed to both Earlene and Lorna. His countenance transformed in anger, as he hurried to retrieve the computers and other devices, and ran all the way back straight to his King, presenting the package first to him. Though the seneschal refrained from commenting, the blaze in his eyes and the hard set of his jaw were more than enough to command Thranduil's undivided attention. He considered what to do.

On one hand, the item was not addressed to him. On the other hand, it was a foregone conclusion that the contents were barbaric, and designed to upset the very pregnant women who had just enjoyed themselves more on account of the holiday than in some time. The celebration of Christmas had been lifting to their spirits, and he was loath to allow this to be opened by them. He knew that were he to simply act as he saw fit, Earlene would not object. But Lorna? Lorna did not like decisions being made for her, and he had dodged disaster with her last time she was badly upset on a mere technicality. It was never possible to entirely fathom, how her thinking would proceed on any given matter, and in this instance, that part was maddening.

He looked at Thanadir. "I do not want to give it to them, meldir. And yet it is not addressed to me."

"It is addressed in part to one who is under your authority. It has made its way to your Halls," the elf said, his eyes flashing. His opinion was as obvious as his emphasis on the recurring word 'your.' And just to cement that, he added, "This would be a different matter had it gone to Lorna's home in Baile. But it has not."

He looked up at the ceiling, and arrived at a decision. "It is not my right to keep Lorna from knowing what is in here," he said. "But it is my right to ask Earlene not to look, or to allow me to look instead. That is the best I can do with this."

The stormy glower on his seneschal's face was as impressive as the manner in which his lips pursed together. "I know you do not agree with me, Thanadir. But you do not know Lorna as well as I do. In this, I only have authority over Earlene and what she knows."

"What Earlene knows about what?" she asked, as she walked into the room in her slow and careful manner, seating herself on the sofa.

"Von Ratched has sent you and Lorna another package, meluieg. And I am asking you not to open it, nor view the contents. I do not want you upset. I cannot ask the same of Lorna."

"As you wish, my Lord," she answered, not the least interested in whatever that asshole was doing this time. Did he have nothing better to do with his time? she wondered. "I would like to go next door, and look at the harpsichord book, if there is no objection?" Thanadir helped her, and walked with her.

"It does not bother you, to be told that?" he was relieved, but genuinely curious.

The question was surprising. "I do not think it is any different for you, is it? If the King says to do something, there is nothing else to discuss, is there? Besides, in this case...whatever is in there is doubtless meant to be unpleasant, and shocking, and lacking originality. If he does not wish me to know…" she shrugged. "Though, meldir, I hope that no one else has been killed. Not that there is anything I can do but...it weighs on my heart, that such a thing still walks the Earth, preying on others. It is not...right."

They sat together, on the bench, while she turned the pages of the book to where they had left off on how to play scales. "It is not right," Thanadir echoed, hugging her to him. "D flat major, then?"

"Yes."

Lorna and Ratiri meandered in not long before lunch, both quite hungry. He'd relented and let her actually practice with her beautiful throwing knives, and as a result she was in quite a good mood - once the twins were born, she might be ready to graduate to slow-moving targets.

Earlene and Thanadir were absent, but that wasn't a surprise - there was, after all, a harpsichord. No doubt that would keep the pair of them occupied for weeks, until her twins were born.

The pair of them gave Lothiriel a chorus of "Mae govannen", though Ratiri's was rather better-pronounced. Her English was shaky as yet, so hopefully she wouldn't be able to understand the questions Lorna had to pose to Thranduil later.

"They off with the harpsichord?" Lorna asked, hauling herself up onto the sofa.

"Yes. I do not know who is more taken with it, Earlene or Thanadir. It is for the best, in that between the two of them they are learning faster than either would on their own. Earlene did have some musical education in the notation used in your world, where as Thanadir is Thanadir," he smiled.

"Someday, the pair'v them need to a duet with it and his violin," Lorna said. Hey, it would be damn close to what she wanted...Earlene and one Elf, at least. "I've got an acoustic guitar I could bring, and we could all cough up something."

"It might be worth hearing," Ratiri said. He was completely ignorant of all instruments, and content to remain so. His dad had tried to get him to take piano lessons as a kid, but it had been an utter disaster - not helped by the fact that his teacher had been a stern old battle-axe of a woman who hit his fingers every time he got a note wrong. (The day his mother found out about that wound up kind of legendary in the village; it wasn't every day one saw a tiny woman screaming in a mix of English and Hindi, threatening to shove a stick somewhere very unpleasant if her son's fingers were ever touched again. And Dad, the useless sod, had just stood there and laughed. It was mortifying. )

Thranduil was temporarily distracted by the astonishing memory of Ratiri's, before having the presence of mind to murmur an agreement. He cleared his throat. "Lorna, a package came for you and Earlene from presumably Von Ratched. You may do as you wish with the contents; Earlene will not be viewing them."

"Oh, brilliant," Lorna said, rolling her eyes, but at the same time, fear twinged in her. She was sure Mairead and Big Jamie were safe, but still. That bastard was that bastard. "She's got more restraint than I do," she said. "If I don't look, I'll always wonder. Knowledge is better than ignorance, right?" she asked, looking at Ratiri, who didn't appear nearly so convinced.

"Possibly not in this instance," he sighed, "but I know that won't stop you."

Thranduil's eyebrows raised, but he offered no comment either way, watching in morbid curiosity as she opened the package.

The first box, the one addressed to her, was likely the more harmless (if squicky) of the two, so she went for that one first. It was even more prosaic than the hairbrush, though no less baffling: a box of the blueberry-green tea she'd started favoring once Ratiri largely cut her off the caffeinated stuff. "Okay, help?" she said, holding it up so Thranduil could see it.

The King pinched the bridge of his nose. "I do not want to talk about this any longer, Lorna. Could you find it within yourself to know that the man is a pervert and just let this alone?" He felt sick to death of the times he had already had to explain the assorted grotesqueries of what that one had thought or in which he had taken his wretched delight. Every time he was forced to tell her, he was forced to relive all of it again as well. The only thing he wanted now was Von Ratched, dead at his feet, with Eöl's sword keening its disgusting delight.

She really didn't want to let it alone - she was confused, and didn't like it - but she also didn't want to force Thranduil into something he found too icky, so she nodded. Reluctantly. "D'you think it's safe to drink? I'm out."

"I...were it me, I would not trust it, Lorna. I would not accept food from a known murderer. That strikes me as risky. We can all travel to the cottage, if you need to order more. Or if it is something that can be had in the village, Thanadir would gladly go."

"Fair point," she grumbled, tossing it back into the box. "Christ, I don't know if we should look at Earlene's or not. On the one hand, why in God's name would we want to, but on the other hand, what if not looking bites us in the arse later?"

" How? " Ratiri asked.

"Oh, I dunno," she waved a vague hand, "like, if he leaves us some sort'v clue, something that if we don't do it, bad shite happens."

Ratiri looked at her like she was mental, but he didn't outright contradict her. "Thranduil, thoughts?" Thranduil would likely - hopefully - have somewhat better judgment here.

He sighed. "Whatever it is, will be dealt with at a later time. I will not have this ruining lunch." He picked up Earlene's portion of the package and removed it to their bedroom, where he placed it in his own wardrobe. He returned. "I presume you would like your...tea...disposed of?"

"Yeah," she sighed. Great, now she really wanted some. Fucking hormones. "So, I've - we've - got some questions for you, that probably shouldn't ruin lunch."

Thranduil laughed. "Do not ever change, Lorna. I am happy to answer. Or, try to." Just having the contemptible package out of his sight already cheered him considerably.

Lorna laughed, and looked at Ratiri. He was the doctor, he'd be better at this. "We were discussing birth control, for after the twins have been delivered," he said. "Normally, were she to get a tubal ligation, or I to get a vasectomy, we wouldn't need to worry, but given that your healing ability inadvertently restored her uterus, there's no guarantee it wouldn't undo our surgeries. My question, though we didn't actually discuss this, is could you effectively do something like a tubal ligation yourself? It involves keeping an egg from leaving the ovary and reaching the uterus."

Thranduil's lips slackened. This was more or less exactly what he did for Earlene, but this was his wife, with whom he had constant intimate contact. For another? And yet he could see why they asked. He already knew that Lorna did not wish for more children after these were born to her. The humans had these...surgeries, and yet their reasoning on this matter was sound. In the years to come, any illness, any accident from which he healed them, could in turn affect their childbearing. "I had not considered that while it is in some ways a blessing that I can keep you healthy, that what I offer keeps you...too healthy, in this regard. And that this has created a problem of its own, for you." He sighed. "I cannot do for Lorna what I have done for Earlene. It is not...possible. And at the moment, I am somewhat at a loss for how to help you."

Lorna looked again at Ratiri. "Well, shit. There's other, human things we could use, but they're not 100% foolproof, and...what I really need to know, is will you utterly hate me if I get up the yard again and...do something about it?" She didn't want to look at Thranduil, but she did anyway, rather afraid of what she might see in his face.

His expression was written over with confusion until it became plain enough in her thoughts what 'do something' meant, exactly. His eyes flared in shock, but only briefly. The humans were not elves. A mortal woman could in theory spend her entire reproductive span of years constantly with child, unable to have any say in the matter if she welcomed the physical union with her mate. Why Eru had made them thus, he did not understand, because it was in some ways a great cruelty. Perhaps something had gone awry? He struggled to find something he could say. "I would not hate you, Lorna. I cannot imagine anything that could cause me to feel in such a manner, toward you. I will not lie to you, no elf would choose what you are considering. Children are too rare for us, and each one is cherished. You might say we have completely the opposite problem of your race. Children are given to us too rarely, and to humans too frequently, perhaps. While I do not understand everything, I have learned a little about what some women endured, before your kind learned ways to regulate your childbearing. It is not my business, Lorna, to have an opinion on this part of your life. This is between you and Ratiri. There are only two things I can say, on this subject. The first is that were you to conceive again, it would not be hidden from the sight of any elf. The second is that...I will never offer a word of criticism for your choices, but you must not ask me to interfere in this for you. I cannot use my gifts to… 'do something' about it. I am truly sorry that I cannot be of more help, in this way."

Lorna sagged with relief, leaning against Ratiri. "I'd been afraid you'd kick us out," she said. "The odds'v it happening are pretty bloody small, but you never know. I'd never ask you to do anything - actually, since you lot know if someone's up the yard right off, all I'd need to do is take a morning-after pill. It'd keep it from being a thing I'd have to do anything about." She shook her head. "I don't know why it's not more even, between us and you - why you lot have a hard time while we drown in babies whether we want them or not. Childbirth, for centuries, was the leading cause'v death for women, but there wasn't any real way around it until fifty or so years ago. I'd thought'v getting a hysterectomy, but that seems a bit drastic."

"Um, yes," Ratiri said. "Much too drastic. You'll hit menopause in another ten years or so, and it won't be an issue then."

"Oh, joy," she sighed. "Anyway, two's enough. I don't ever want to do this again - it's horrible, and I've still got three months." There were times, though she would never tell Ratiri this, that she wished this whole thing had never happened. She hadn't actually told anyone just how much she hated this, because it wouldn't do anybody any good, but she honestly would rather cut her uterus out herself than ever endure it again. Ninety-nine percent of it was unremittingly horrible - the only thing she didn't hate was when she felt one of them move. That was amazing, but the rest of it? In her darker moments, which were growing more frequent, she had to admit that if she could have chosen to keep this from happening, if she'd known it would happen, she'd have put a stop to it.

Thranduil simply pretended he had not heard her. He doubted that she wanted this heard. He even doubted that she really meant it, because he truly believed she had wanted these children. Her pregnancy had taken a far worse mental toll than Earlene's and...he refused to think on this, any longer. He was exceedingly grateful that Ortherion chose exactly that moment to knock and enter, bearing their food for the next meal. "Excuse me, please," he said. "I will go begin the process of prying Earlene and Thanadir loose from their interminable scales and arpeggios."

God, that really was such a relief...Lorna actually had an appetite back, now that she knew Thranduil would hate her and kick her to the wolves if she ever got knocked up and had to do something about it. "You two had better be the cutest babies that ever lived," she told her stomach. "You'd better not pop out looking like Winston Churchill."

Ratiri burst out laughing, wrapping an arm around her. In truth, he was bloody relieved as well. He would have missed this terribly, should the Elves have decided they couldn't stomach the idea of abortion. "All babies look like Winston Churchill," he said. "Neither race nor gender matter. It's inevitable."

Earlene and Thanadir sat side by side, tapping out the same notes at the same time on their respective sides of the keyboard. Thranduil watched for a moment in some fascination as he realized that Thanadir was applying some of the same principles as in sword training to this keyboard. They repeated the same motions over and over, until there was fluid accuracy. And this was not a skill in which the seneschal had the clear ascendancy; the particular dexterity required was new to both of them, and they were competing against each other. Earlene was biting her lip, her forehead knotted in concentration. It was almost mesmerizing.

"It is time for our meal," he announced, trying to shake off the assorted discomforts of the time he'd just spent with Lorna. In concert, they both stopped immediately. He offered Earlene his arm. She took note of his face, and leaned up to kiss him.

I love you, she smiled, hoping he understood just how encompassing that was meant to be. A far better smile spread over his face, and he found that lunch sounded far more appealing than it had a moment ago.

He'd had several days to ignore it, but Lorna's words would not leave his mind, entirely. So while Earlene and Thanadir were next door, the faintest of tinkling notes coming through the stone walls, Thranduil decided to do what must be done and open whatever the balrog had sent his wife. He shook his head...that sentence should not be able to exist, but such was his life now. With a razor sharp knife, he slit the edges of the small box open and... what in Eru's name? This was quite possibly the lingerie she'd complained was missing, when he last lurked near here. And there was an image.

It was the blonde woman from Earlene's lawyer party, the one who had been so freely lascivious in her thoughts (and would have been in her actions, possibly, were she given half a chance). In the photo she was naked save for the blood-stained bra, cowering and terrified in a corner.

Fear not, was written on the back, I let this one live.

Revolted, he closed his eyes. No one, no one deserved to be victimized by such evil, and he said a prayer to the Valar for her well-being. While a part of him wished it could all go away, he knew what he had been asked to do. What he would be given the chance, to do. With a sense of dread, the conviction washed over him that they would not have terribly long to wait.

For a treat, the women had both been carried to the cottage, under heavy if invisible guard. As the time before they gave birth waned, Thranduil became increasingly unable to tolerate even the thinnest whisper of risk. They remained out of sight, but no fewer than two dozen of his fighters formed a ring around their movements, and stood guard around the home itself. That not a whisper of a hint of Von Ratched had been seen or heard made any difference, to him. Today's date on the human calendar was February 14, and marked nine and a half months since she conceived. 'Keeping it together' as Earlene liked to think of it, was becoming harder. After the nine month marker had been passed, the reality of carrying peredhel became something she could not ignore any longer. And this could be two and a half months, yet. She had tried so hard, to push thoughts such as this away, and to not have them around her husband. It was not his fault, what his half of the genetics were doing to her body, and the comparative blessings for her children certainly would make this seem worthwhile. Eventually. She'd told him about Valentine's Day, which was not something she had ever paid much attention to, for obvious reasons. But he'd asked many questions and liked the idea, so...here they were, to enjoy watching some silly yet romantic movies...because. This wasn't even a holiday by Irish standards, and she had told Ratiri and Lorna with some trepidation. Yet, for the chance of getting out for an afternoon, they were glad enough. It had been agreed that they would watch "Benny and Joon" and "Don Juan de Marco" which were utterly ridiculous yet...romantic. That and, she didn't want Lorna to throw up, so they seemed like good suggestions.

Everything was so hard now, and she had tried to become reconciled to it. Remaining in any position for long was uncomfortable, and it was really only Thranduil's gifts or Thanadir's seemingly endless willingness to massage body parts that ached that had given her any sanity. Otherwise, she was certain she'd be curled up in bed, sucking her thumb while wallowing in self-pity.

The movies managed to distract Lorna somewhat from her misery, but only somewhat. Ratiri did his best, but she was just...miserable. She couldn't even throw her knives now, so she'd started teaching him Irish - studying Sindarin right now just seemed like a chore, but Irish was one of her native languages. He rubbed her shoulders now while they watched, but quite honestly, what she'd really like would be to take a very long nap, and wake up when it was time to give birth.

Still, Benny and Joon was pretty damn cute, even she had to admit. Normally she thought romantic movies were garbage, but this was a movie that had romance in it, not the other way around, and the characters were actually enjoyable. It took her mind off her discomfort, at least.

They took a break for something to eat (in addition to the breaks that involved stopping the movie about every half hour so each woman could get to the toilet). A picnic of sorts had been brought from the Halls, that included some bananas procured at the Lasg'len grocery. Thanadir peeled one, and then rose to get two forks. He cut about two and a half inches off of the end of each banana, speared each with a fork, and proceeded to imitate the Dancing Bread Rolls scene of Johnny Depp's character. Earlene saw this and descended into hysterical laughter.

via GIPHY

Thanadir looked up, puzzled. "I wanted to see if I could do it," he confessed. "It looked fun."

Earlene held onto her belly, unable to stop laughing. "You have to stop. I've made it through nine and a half months of this pregnancy and I am not going to wet myself because of the dancing rolls. Bananas. Whatever."

Thranduil glared at his seneschal and pointedly took away one of the forks and ate the banana piece. This unfortunately made everyone laugh, and tears were streaming down Earlene's face as she fanned herself. Sure god, she'd give anything for a balloon right now, even though that would not help. Her second favorite thing in the whole film was the balloon music. Well, that or ironing the grilled cheese sandwiches.

"Perhaps the next one?" he asked, trying to stifle his irritation. As the weeks wore on, all of them had felt the strain. He was trying to understand, why he recalled none of this with Alassëa. The truth was, Thanadir had taken care of her almost full-time; he had been able to merely saunter in when his duties were cared for. And while she had had her own difficulties carrying Legolas, he was insulated from many of them. It was not like with Earlene; he did not ever know her thoughts or share in them. And he certainly had not had another human couple under his care. Two mortal females, pregnant with twins at the same time...perhaps it was best, that Lorna seemed to decisively wish for no more children. If they did this again, surely some elements would have to be easier. Surely.

Lorna had just about pissed herself at Thanadir's dancing banana (and that sounded way dirtier than it actually was), and had to waddle her way to the toilet before it stopped being 'almost' and became 'oh shit'.

I want this to be over, she thought, grumbling to herself. Ratiri had said twins were often premature, and she devoutly hoped they would be in her case - she didn't need to be afraid being premature would be a danger to them, so she didn't feel guilty in wishing it.

Only the greatest self-restraint kept Thranduil from grumbling something back to her in agreement that would not have been in the least helpful. Fortunately, Earlene took it upon herself to start the next film. "I have loffed thousands of wheeeeemen," she softly imitated, while recalling that this was likely going to mildly scandalize Thanadir. Oh well. Snuggling into Thranduil's arms, she wished that his mood would be better, but understood. They were all going half-crazy with tension and boredom, and he had feelings too. Though, she'd done her best to keep him happy in what ways remained to her.

I am sorry, meluieg. It is that I cannot shake the feelings of vulnerability that come with you and Lorna being outside the Halls. You have been more than generous with your attention to my happiness. Please do not think me unappreciative.

She reached up her hand to caress his cheek, smiling when he leaned into her touch, but becoming distracted at the ridiculous introduction of Don Octavio. Marlon Brando, he did not age well , Earlene thought.

Temporarily relieved, Lorna went and laid on Ratiri like a big lump, though she tried to return his favor with a shoulder-massage, just from the front. Her hands might be tiny, but they were strong, and when she could breathe in the clean, slightly spicy Ratiri scent of him, it calmed her. She was doing what she could to not be miserable while at the same time not making anyone else miserable - though Thranduil was a bit of a captive audience, but still. She was trying to think of more pleasant things...it just didn't work that well.

She needed a cat. Tail didn't really come and visit; he tended to occupy wherever Earlene was. She needed one of her own, one that could bond with the twins and they could grow up together.

"Ratiri, I want a kitten," she said. "A little fuzzy one."

Ratiri seriously considered mentioning toxoplasma, but realized in time that that would be an utterly terrible idea. "I can get you a kitten," he said, "though I'm not sure if I can find one in the village. What are you going to do if it decides it hates the twins?"

"It won't," she said. "It will love them, and they will all sleep together, and it will be adorable. And fuzzy."

He grinned, and kissed the top of her head. "I will look for kittens, the next time we go into the village."

They enjoyed the film, with yet more interruptions for peeing, but the sad part is how ready all of them were to just return back to the Halls. The women were uncomfortable, and had long ago taken to using multiple baths per day to keep their sanity intact. In the water, they each found some relief from feeling like beached walruses, even if it was yet another issue that they could not spend all day in the water. But whereas a lazy afternoon of endless video watching once would have been a welcome treat, like everything else it was no good except in limited doses. Two movies had been pushing it, actually.

"Just think, Earlene," Lorna said, trying to be positive, "in what, two months, we'll be able to walk by ourselves. No more getting carried everywhere. We have feet we'll be able to use and see." Yes, it was pathetic, but she tried.

"It might not be that long," Ratiri said, eying Earlene's abdomen. "Earlene, you've dropped. That's usually a sign they're getting ready to exit."

Confused, she looked at herself. It was true that things had felt more squished than ever down there, but she just sort of thought of herself as an ever expanding water balloon, and figured that the babies were looking for any real estate possible which they could still colonize. "Ooof," she said, as her abdomen felt tight and uncomfortable. "I think I need to stand up. And, I guess you would know. We don't have a full length mirror and...I can't really see myself like you can."

Thranduil took a closer look at his wife, perceiving what she felt. Ratiri was quite possibly correct. No one knew what would happen, for her.

"I would like to try to walk until I am tired, may I?" she asked Thranduil.

"Of course, meluieg." He offered his arm.

When they returned to Earlene and Thranduil's rooms, they all occupied their usual places after the lavatory was used. Again. Lothiriel had been playing with Allanah, helping her to try and stand, and the happy little girl clung to the elleth's knees, giggling with glee to see all her favorite people return. The sight warmed Earlene's heart, and she smiled and waved at her. Thranduil saw, and did the same. Lothiriel gasped, because in a blink, Allanah reached her arms out and tottered to Earlene and Thranduil. "Oh!" was all that Earlene could say.

Not skipping a beat, all of Lorna's frustrations dissolved as she whipped her phone out with lightning speed. Fuck photos , she thought, switching to video. Every heart in the room melted to see the little girl take her first steps, shrieking with delight when she reached her parents and was hugged and kissed. With another squee, she turned just as quickly and tottered to Lorna and Ratiri. Ratiri smoothly took the phone from Lorna, seeing that the child was heading straight to her, and continued filming while her Auntie picked her up with the biggest smile anyone had seen from her since Christmas. Earlene hugged Thranduil, discreetly pointing at Thanadir. The old elf was beside himself with excitement, nearly overcome when Allanah was returned to the ground so she could walk to him as well. She giggled more, from kisses from Uncle Thanadir. It was a wonderful moment to share; everyone felt the joys of children. Allanah did not tire of her new game of toddling from person to person, and neither did they.

It had been another day. Thanadir had been so patient with her, at the harpsichord. She would not have blamed him, if he would have begged off or asked to do something else; the frequency of needing to change positions or get up and walk around was driving her crazy. Everything, was driving her crazy. Not long after Valentine's day, she found that her undergarments were being stained by discharges that were tinged with blood. So she'd switched to wearing only black ones, not wanting to have all of her underthings ruined. She had more or less refused to wear the ones the ellith did. They involved lacing, and there was no way she could get them done and undone in time with the present state of her bladder. There were few human things she insisted on clinging to, and well made cotton-blend bikini underpants were among them. Their evening meal had been the usual, with Lorna and Ratiri leaving soon afterward, though they always stayed long enough to play with Allanah a little bit.

This time after dinner tended to be Earlene's favorite part of each day. Allanah would fall asleep, and Lothiriel would always change her one last time before she departed for the evening. She would have Thranduil to herself, and without fail they would give each other pleasure. His actions spoke louder than any words; the ongoing changes in her body did not dampen his interest or his ardor in the least. Though, she wasn't kidding herself. Were it not for his ability to know her mind, she wondered if it would even be possible to climax. That she never had to tell him what felt good, what felt uncomfortable, and what she could not feel at all; that advantage was not underestimated. Together they groaned in their release; Thranduil caressed her belly as he subsided from his enjoyment as he always did. Which is why he felt the contraction, even as it caused Earlene to gasp. It was not too much more than extremely uncomfortable, but it was quite definite. Involuntarily she tried to writhe away from the sensation; he swiftly left her body. Just when she was certain it would not stop, it went away.

"What…?" she said, feeling afraid and uncertain as to what was happening.

"You are beginning labor, meluieg," he said, holding her tenderly. "That was a contraction."

"Ohhh. Can we...I would like to be in the pool?"

"Of course, Earlene."

He brought her to the chamber, about to carry her into the soothing water. Her eyes widened. "Put me down please, something is…" there were not words for the sensation. It felt like she was urinating, except nothing she could do would stop the liquid. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Meluieg, your water is breaking. Do not feel ashamed, my love, this has to happen."

"I tried to read what I could but…" she felt terrified, suddenly. "I don't know what a single thing is supposed to feel like, is going to feel like," she wailed, as what seemed like an ungodly amount of fluid continued to run out of her.

"Meluieg, estelio nin," he whispered. "I will not let you falter. I will help you, everything you could want or need will be provided for you. You will meet your daughters soon, Earlene. Try to remember that."

"And I still have no names for them," she groaned. "That does it. We are figuring out names. Surely you have some ideas?"

He debated the wisdom of reminding her that she had wished to meet them first, before naming them. "Perhaps we can come up with some ideas, and finally decide when we see them?"

She nodded, clinging to him, and did not object when he lifted her into his arms to carry her into the water. He held her, rubbing her back and soothing her. "What about names is important to you, meluieg? Do you like flowers, the stars in the heavens...I am sure you realize by now that almost all elves' names have a meaning?"

"I like heavenly bodies", she said, frowning. Somehow that sounded vaguely obscene. "Almost all human names have meanings, too, though I could see how you would not know that."

"They do? Your name means something?"

"Yes, it does," she laughed. "Earlene means 'pledge.' Sometimes it is spelled differently than how mine is. My middle name, Rhian, means 'queen'."

"By the Valar, meluieg," Thranduil whispered. "That is extraordinary. It is as if Manwë himself named you."

A frown came over her. "Good grief, I had not thought of that at all. That is...creepy, actually. I did not believe in any manner of fate but I am beginning to wonder, more than a little." She cleared her throat. "I like the name Ratiri and Lorna picked, Chandra. It means 'moon'. But I also like the idea of 'star', on account of the Eldar."

"What of Eleniel?" that means 'star'.

"That is lovely," she admitted. "I like that it would honor Elbereth, as well. There is a Welsh name, 'Seren' that means the same."

"Ithilwen means 'moon', he also offered.

"Selena does too. I...what would people think if it were Ithildin, after the...what Celebrimbor invented, the beautiful shining...stuff. Or what about just Ithil? Ithiliel?"

"The last one, I like."

"I wish I could see the starlight," she said.

"If that is your wish, I will take you outside."

"After this, I would like that, but at this moment I am happy to stay here awhile longer." They talked for some time, when another contraction came, this one just a little stronger than the first. While it lasted, she held onto him. And once past, she was taken and dried and clothed warmly. Thanadir appeared, as they were almost ready to depart, to stay with Allanah. The sight of him cheered her immensely, and brought with it a feeling that she would be alright. Perhaps she had taken this 'security blanket' thing entirely too far, but that did not matter to her just now. Hugging him as best her immense belly would allow, she asked him, "You will help me, meldir?"

He smiled. "Athon, Earlene. Ú-gosto." (I will, Earlene. Do not be afraid.)

Thranduil carried her easily through the passages of the Halls to the Gates, and outside. "Meluieg, there is something I would like to ask you. Something I should have thought of much sooner."

"Which is?"

"Our friends are very nervous about the birth of their children, and it is hard to say who has more concerns, Ratiri or Lorna. What calmness they are able to feel is on the merit of the trust and faith they have in my own assurances of my abilities."

Her eyes narrowed. "You want to know if I would object to them watching me give birth, is that it? For their own peace of mind?"

"Yes," he said, in a very small voice. He knew that this conversation was being had far, far too late.

"I do not mind. I certainly understand feeling afraid of what I do not know, because I have never done this before. It would be petty, to deny someone else the chance to feel better. But who I want is you, and Thanadir. And while I respect Ratiri...there are some things I feel strongly about that might not be so usual for him, with his training. So much of the reading I did talked about what women themselves have found to be a more….natural experience, versus what the doctors in the hospitals will do if they are given free rein. Little things, like, once the baby arrives, in the hospitals they sometimes want to clamp the umbilical cord almost right away, while the body is still trying to send blood from the placenta into the baby. I do not wish to hear about what to do unless one of us asks and...forgive me, these are my prejudices and fears leaking out all over the floor. I do not mean to imply he would be like that."

"You are being very generous, Earlene. I will do everything I can to keep you from being annoyed in any way. Even with all of my aid to you, some of this will be very uncomfortable, I will not lie. Unless you want me to take away all sensation of your experience, which is also an option. This will be whatever you wish it to, meluieg."

She nodded her head, as she looked up through the tall trees to catch glimpses of the star and moonlight. "The moon will be full tomorrow, it seems," she said, feeling happier about the idea of heavenly name choices before her thoughts returned to the present conversation. "I want to try. I want to experience birth at least somewhat like what human women do but...I see no merit to the abject agony that some women tell about. I do not particularly want to feel that."

"Then place your trust in us. I will manage what takes place in your body, and if I know my seneschal, he will manage your thoughts and feelings."

"Did he help your first wife deliver your son?"

"Yes, he did. And if I may say, he patiently endured quite an ordeal. My skills at healing were not what they are now, Earlene, and I also did not share her mind as I do yours. Her experience was uncomfortable, and she did not hesitate to take that out on poor Thanadir."

"But not you?"

"It is not lawful to strike the King, regardless of circumstances." This was said with no small amount of awkwardness.

"Of course...I do not know how that escaped me, I am sorry." She laughed. "I still feel badly, about that."

"Not as badly as I do, Earlene. We understood so little of each other. I think back on our first days and I…"

"Blame Manwë?"

He looked at her, eyes wide with surprise under the starlight. They both smiled in shared mirth and kissed, laughing. "Why not," he confessed. "The only thing I am now assured of is that I will never know the degree to which this was already woven in Vairë's tapestry."

"Oh!" she said, inhaling sharply and tightening her hold on him as another contraction took hold.

"I think we will go back now," he said. "This will go on for hours, Earlene, making sleep difficult if not impossible, unless I lay sleep upon you. I would guess that by breakfast, you will enter the more active stages of labor."

Lorna had been increasingly uncomfortable, and yet she was also pleased. She'd 'dropped' as well, as Ratiri put it, and knowing she was in the home stretch cheered her immensely. Oh, she still felt like a disgusting land whale, but the end was somewhere in sight now.

And Ratiri, bless him, had actually started to let her walk now - it would, he said, make things easier when her time came. Which, she had to admit, also scared her shitless.

She trusted Thranduil - he wasn't going to let anything happen to her - but a tiny part of her back-brain wondered, what if something goes wrong? Something hugely wrong, that he might not be able to deal with. He'd said he could heal anything right up until death, and she believed him, but what if she had a heart attack or something? It was an irrational fear and she knew it - the women of her family tended to have easy childbirths - but she couldn't banish it. Not entirely.

Plus, the thought of him delivering her kids was still too fucking weird. Nobody wanted their brother, from another mother or otherwise, having to stare at their snatch for an extended period of time - and Ratiri had said that twins often took a while. By then she'd probably be in so much pain she wouldn't care, except Thranduil could probably take care of that , too.

Quit worrying , she told herself, even as she paced the length of their lounge. She was safer now than any other pregnant woman on the planet besides Earlene; she had nothing to be afraid of. Gran had been every bit as tiny as she, and had managed to give birth to four children without the aid of an elf - or modern medicine, really. Lorna had never met any of her aunts and uncle, who all lived abroad, but the eldest had been born in 1945 (rather sooner after Gran's marriage than she ought to have been, but nobody ever brought that up in those days. Gran had said there was an old saying: "The first baby can come when it likes. The rest have to come nine months later.")

Lorna's own mam, born in 1950, had been a full two months premature, and had been what Gran called a "shoebox baby": she was put in a shoebox near the stove - basically an incubator before there were incubators - and fed with an eye-dropper. She didn't need to worry about any of that herself; even if she gave birth today, they were still at just below eight months, and she had a magic elf that basically precluded the need for incubators or shoeboxes or anything else.

So why the fuck was she afraid? It was irrational and ridiculous, and yet it was there, and there was no getting rid of it. Hopefully it would vanish on its own when she actually went into labor, and was too busy to think about much of anything.

She'd woken very early, and so was already up when Maerwen arrived to poke at the fire. The elf said, in a halting mix of English and Sindarin, that Earlene had gone into labor, and that they were welcome to watch, if it would reassure them.

Ratiri, naturally, had no qualms about that - he was a doctor, so seeing someone he knew with half their clothes off wouldn't perturb him in the least. Lorna thought it sounded somewhat awkward, and yet she went anyway, figuring that if nothing else, she could be some kind of moral support - and she could see exactly how this worked. Maybe then she wouldn't be afraid.

The night had gone much as he had said, at least from the early morning onward. When they returned, he explained to Earlene that he would like her to have sleep while the contractions were mildest and furthest apart, to help conserve her strength for later. He also discussed practical matters with Thanadir. Namely, that the two of them would need to be in and out of the water for hours to assist Earlene and in the sight of those who would rather not see them unclothed.

"I already have a garment for this need, Thranduil. If you recall, when I helped Alassëa, I was not nude with her. It would not have been seemly. Not to mention, I had a desire for my private anatomy to survive the birth of your son." He could not help the smirk that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It would take very little time for me to alter a pair of trousers for your use as well."

Chuckling, the King nodded. "I think I can say that Earlene will be far gentler on you, meldir."

"Perhaps. But for what a female endures to bring forth a little one, what abuse is heaped on me is small by comparison. I will return before she wakes, my King."

After his sewing project was completed, he made his way to the quarters of Lothiriel and Ortherion, with apologies, to notify them that the queen had begun her labor, and that extra duty would be the inevitable result. Allanah would need continuous care as everyone else would be diverted, and Earlene would need fruit and soft foods that could be easily digested. And everyone would want tea, and food available throughout the day. Without hesitation, the couple smiled at each other eagerly, and bowed to him. Ortherion assured the seneschal that he would go to the kitchens immediately, once he was attired. As sunrise neared, word and excitement spread through the Halls; their King's children were about to arrive. The first elflings, in more than ten thousand years.

Thanadir returned only minutes before Earlene began to wake from a contraction. She was clad only in a robe and one of Thanadir's wrap-around nursing bras, because she had complained earlier of sore breasts. The constricting muscles of her abdomen were plainly visible on the outside. Both ellyn moved to gently massage her belly. "It is a miracle, is it not?" Thanadir whispered to Thranduil, at this ability of the female body.

"It is, though it does not feel like one, meldir. It feels like an alien has taken over my insides," she grimaced, having woken completely. "I need the toilet," she whispered, incredibly grateful that they could take her there so much faster than she ever could have managed. It was entirely possible that she would navigate her entire pregnancy without wetting herself, which felt like quite an achievement. It's the little things , she thought. Walking around was what she desired, and she now had Thanadir's constant help. It was rare in the hour before dawn, that ten minutes would go by between the contractions, which were gaining substantially in strength and frequency. And for each one of them, Thanadir guided her face to meet his eyes. He would ask her silly things, like to conjugate a verb or to recite the notes of a scale forwards or backwards. He distracted, he guided, and he gave her a physical anchor onto which to hold. And in between, he insisted that she eat small pieces of fruit, and sip tea. Always, his strong hands kneaded at her lower back, which felt much of the time as though it was no longer able to hold her up. She shook her head, wondering how an unfit or unwell woman could possibly manage this life event, and did not want to know the answer.

The discomfort was becoming hard to manage, and she asked to be placed in the pool. Until their friends arrived, it made the most sense for Thranduil to do this. He held onto her, massaging her belly and back, but was not as good as Thanadir at distracting her from her contractions. The beginnings of panic were creeping over her mind, when the seneschal appeared alongside her, his long hair braided back. The sight was so improbable that she broke into laughter in spite of herself, matching his grin. "That is better," he said, knowing exactly why she was laughing. "Now name for me all of the human months, in Sindarin." The stern look of expectation had exactly the desired effect. Though she was panting for air, her mind immediately switched over to trying to remember these little-used words.

"Narwain, Nínui, Gwae…...Gwaeron….Lothron…"

"Gwirith," he patiently corrected. She sighed, and even as her voice choked with discomfort as she held onto him, "Gwaeron, Gwirith, Lothron…"

Thranduil marveled at Thanadir. He had never guessed that they would bond this closely, but it was making all the difference in the world now. He was saving his strength, and his power, against anything that might go truly awry later on.

Lorna and Ratiri headed inside as always, he calm, she somewhat nervous. She really wished she had his ability to just sort of...shut off...the personal aspect, but she didn't have the medical training that gave him that ability. He'd explained that that was just something they taught you in school; you stay detached and clinical so that if you lose a patient, or if you have a patient in terrible pain, it doesn't shatter you. That it lets you do your job, but doesn't mean you don't care.

Lothiriel seemed quite unperturbed, at least, tending to Allanah as though all was perfectly normal. Lorna didn't know how she could, at a time like this - but then, God knew how old she was. She'd probably seen far more stressful things than childbirth over the course of her years.

When Thranduil told her that their friends were sure to arrive soon, she asked to change into swimwear that she'd somehow had the foresight to purchase. It was going to be some time before the lower half would need removing, and honestly the top, which was simply a glorified bikini top with a front closure, confined The Girls and made her feel much better. What couldn't float around or move couldn't rub against the wrong thing and be even more sore. Between that and her robe, it would scandalize Lorna a little less, she hoped. Or at least, give her a chance to break into the glories of the human body expelling two watermelons more slowly. And now she wanted back out of the tub. "The hardest part of this is….this," she said, gesturing in exasperation at the sheer size of her abdomen. There is no way to walk around with this weight out here, no way to grab it and hold it against me...I wish there was just no gravity, for awhile." The ellyn looked at each other helplessly, because gravity was going nowhere but neither of them wished to upset her. "I'm not that bad, am I? I know gravity has to stay."

Thranduil and Thanadir both smiled. "Perhaps we have been over-concerned. You are doing very well, Earlene. I have really done nothing that you would consider magical to aid you, thus far."

"Well, from what I read, I likely have not seen anything yet," she joked, trying to remain positive even as the next contraction came. "I wondered something," she said, her voice strained as she tried to distract herself. "How do you know, if everything is as it should be inside of me? I mean, that they are not in there upside down, or that my cervix is actually dilating or that my hips are wide enough for them to fit...any of that?"

"Because I can see into the body. It is difficult to explain; I am sure you realize it is what you would call a magical ability."

"It is something I can at least vaguely comprehend. We have machines that do the same. I will decline to ask how on earth you know what to do with the information you see. In your own way you must understand as much as Ratiri about how we work." With a shake to her head, she tried to move on to other things. "I am grateful to have you."

"You should have some tea, Earlene," Thanadir gently cajoled, swiftly combing her hair for her and braiding it. "And the kitchens made you some applesauce and biscuits."

"Okay, I can do this." She furrowed her brow and leaned heavily on his arm as they walked out into the dining area, and tried to convince herself that she felt remotely social. It meant a great deal to Thranduil, so, she would find a way to manage. There were times when introversion was just not helpful, and this was probably one of them.

"Good morning," she said to Ratiri and Lorna. "Welcome to the labor and delivery show." When in doubt, pretend to be cheerful . It had always served her well at the office, anyway.

"How's it going?" Lorna asked. Earlene didn't look too uncomfortable yet, but the woman had been a lawyer - she had to be good at projecting calm. "Not that I'd understand a damn word if you told me, but still."

Ratiri wanted to ask how dilated she was, but realized the Elves would have no way of knowing what that meant, so he kept it to himself.

"Manageable, so far. I may as well tell you that what I've asked for is to try to do as much without intervention as I can, but that won't extend to the point of enduring anything beyond whatever my limits are. If the pain gets too bad, I'll be asking Thranduil to do something about it. The contractions are uncomfortable, but not unmanageable. This started last night within an hour after you left," she answered, gratefully drinking the tea Thranduil handed to her. He did not go far, realizing that nothing good would happen to the teacup if the next contraction came while she was holding it.

"It is about six of your centimeters, Ratiri," answered Thranduil, trying to be helpful to the man's curiosity. Earlene was guided around to sit at a chair at the table, but not facing it. Thanadir had a mental clock running in his mind, and knew she had only about one more minute to try and eat a little food. In Sindarin that was barely audible to anyone else, he murmured for her to eat a little without further delay.

"You've been having contractions since last night ?" Lorna asked. Ratiri had explained pre-labor, but still, the very thought was horrifying. "Have you had any sleep at all?"

Six centimeters...a touch over halfway there. Given this was Earlene's first pregnancy, and given her age, she might well have hours yet - though Ratiri doubted Thranduil would let it stretch into days. That she was still managing to eat was a very good sign - but then, again, Thranduil. There was much he had to be taking care of right now. "How far apart are the contractions?" he asked, helping Lorna sit on the sofa.

"Less than three minutes," said Thanadir, who had taken the food from her and knew the next one was imminent. "Name the Valar for me," the seneschal asked Earlene. "All of the ladies, first." They laced their fingers together, facing each other, with Earlene holding onto him firmly as she felt the next one beginning. "Look at me, Earlene," he insisted, as he watched her mind shift off of the discomfort and to the question. "Varda, Vairë, Nienna…" she began, biting her lip as she furiously tried to think. "Vána, Yavanna…" the Ainur who had a less active role in the creation of Arda were frustrating, harder to remember for her. Every memory device she could think of was failing her, but it did not matter, she was still thinking when it had passed. In something of a daze, she realized she had not answered Lorna. "Sorry about that. I did sleep; Thranduil had me sleep until a little before sunrise when they were not so strong."

"Just a little more food," Thanadir cajoled, knowing that he had two clear minutes.

Well, she looked like it wasn't too bad...so far. "Have you got any idea how long it'll be?" Lorna asked, looking from Earlene to Thranduil. She had a feeling even he couldn't know that with any actual accuracy, unless he induced it himself.

She looked rather disturbed, and Ratiri dished her up some porridge and fruit and handed it to her, along with a spoon. "You be sure you eat, too," he said.

"Oh, I'll eat when I'm hungry," she grumbled, just in time for her stomach to growl. "Shut up."

Ratiri, wisely, said not a word.

Earlene's eyebrow raised and she bit the inside of her cheek while thinking lavatory, please rather loudly to her husband. She knew that if she spoke she would laugh. Thanadir helped her rise and waddle in the correct direction.

Lorna ate, but slowly. Her appetite hadn't been great the last few days; she ate in bits and pieces, nibbling like a squirrel. Privately, Ratiri thought it apt, given she was about the size of one. "How long can pre-labor last?" she asked.

"Several days," he admitted. "But likely not in your case. Not give that you and Earlene have help." He looked at Thranduil, and wondered how the ellon could look so serene. He himself was discovering that having his wife as the pregnant woman made things somewhat more unsettling.

Earlene returned, just in time for another contraction. "You still have not named the last two Ladies," Thanadir chided.

"Estë," said Earlene through gritted teeth. "And I want a hint on the last one."

"A well-known Scottish monster," piped Ratiri, grinning.

The gears whirred. Monster...Loch Ness…"Nessa," she said. Please rub my back , she begged silently. This contraction was much longer and harder. Fortunately, the telepathic relay that ran from Thranduil to Thanadir was nearly instantaneous. Thranduil, this is hard for me. It is beginning to hurt, but I know that you want Lorna to watch so that she does not feel so afraid for herself. This makes me feel like I have to hide what I am experiencing, and that is the last thing I need to have on my mind. Can you tell me something that will help?

Do not pretend or be concerned about her, meluieg. While I appreciate your attempts to help our friend, this is not the time. Nor is it helpful, in the end. It is kind of you, to be welcoming our friends at all. Alassëa would not allow anyone besides myself, Thanadir, and one of the elleth Healers anywhere near these rooms.

Is that your way of telling me she was a holy terror through her labor?

I will not speak ill of her, in this regard. But I will say that there is merit to your observation.

This was the time Earlene discovered that laughing in the middle of a contraction was not the best idea, as something like owowowowow was superimposed on top of quite a lot of giggling.

"Hiril vuin, I think it would be best to return to the next room where it is warmer; the heat will help you relax more."

Once she could breathe again, she nodded. "You are both welcome to come back there, stay, do, watch, whatever. I do not mind in the least. I will only apologize now because this is becoming harder, and I am not going to be able to interact so much...would be my guess." At this Thanadir's throat cleared, which was somehow the same as when she was young and her parents counted to three. If mother could only see this , she thought. Forget mother, if gran could see this...her favorite granddaughter being helped through labor by an eighteen thousand year old elf with Felix Unger-like tendencies.

Aloud she said, "Lead on, Thanadir."

Lorna, against her better judgment, looked at Ratiri, and the pair followed Earlene and Thanadir. Part of her was seriously disturbed by the whole thing, but most of her knew that it would be better for her to see what was coming for her than wonder until it happened. This did certainly look far more inviting than a white, sterile hospital room - maybe having such pretty surroundings would help, when her time came.

The pair of them stood out of the way while Thanadir got Earlene settled into the pool - well, Ratiri stood; Lorna couldn't stand in one place for very long at all, so she sat, rather ungainly, on a bench. Thanadir seemed to know what he was doing - he must have done this before, though Lorna couldn't imagine under what circumstances. Ratiri, meanwhile, propped his phone up on the bathroom counter, ready to note the time of each birth.

As the next two hours wore on, Earlene discovered why it was called 'labor', as had so many other women before her. Thanadir had exhausted the Valar, the House of Finwë, the sundering of the elves, Sindarin past tense irregular verbs, and every other notable topic of their history that might yield lists of things to name. She was still managing to navigate the contractions without making a spectacle of herself, but only just. The time between them was not even a minute, for the most part. Lorna and Ratiri went in and out repeatedly, unnoticed by Earlene. Equally unobserved was that her husband had slipped into the pool. She felt the best when she was standing in the water much of the way up her abdomen, though there were places to sit as well. It was a very large pool, and there were many choices as to depth or...whatever. The water took away much of the sensation of being dragged toward the ground.

No sooner had Thranduil laid a hand on her abdomen than the next contraction came, and this one was the worst so far. The sheer intensity of it caught her unawares, and an involuntary cry of pain left her throat as she held onto Thanadir for dear life. The force her arms applied to his ribs would have bruised a human male, at least a little. "That is right, Earlene. Hold on as tightly as you can. You must breathe, meldis. Do not hold in your air; breathe, even if the breaths are quick and small."

When it passed, the sinking realization dawned on her. This is going to be awful . She was nowhere near the finish line, really, and much worse was to come. Or was it? Maybe if she could just get past one more? She felt Thranduil slipping off the bottom of her swimwear as he closed his eyes and held his hand well down on her belly. "Meluieg, soon it is going to get much worse. Your cervix is opening, and is not all the way there. The contractions may not have any space between them from now on, and will grow in strength. I wish to be honest with you; you are beginning to genuinely struggle with pain."

"I did not know that I would end up feeling like it is a contest with myself," she said, looking up with eyes that were already becoming tired. "Knowing that other women have done this, unaided. I feel like I will be some kind of a failure, if I do not try."

Thanadir snapped at her, to her surprise. "Done this unaided and suffered agony, Earlene. Agony that there is no reason for you to endure. The birth of your child is going to be physically challenging for you even with the pain removed. You will still feel pressures and great discomforts; and you must be able to feel something, or else you cannot help push your children out. There is no award to be gained for suffering needlessly."

Thranduil said nothing, knowing that in this case, his seneschal's strong opinions on matters that were not strictly his business might work to an advantage. He did not want to see her go on in pain and misery, but he knew enough of females to know that this was an intensely personal choice. In this place, he was her husband, and to command her to do as he wished in this instance felt deeply wrong.

She stood there, trying to process the information to a conclusion, but sufficient time was not granted to her. There was no yelling or screaming, only a high pitched keening sound as her arm wrapped around her husband's waist and her other hand found Thanadir's. "Breathe, Earlene. Remember to breathe," the seneschal whispered, his words gentle and calm until it was past. Drinking in the deep breaths that the contractions denied her, she tried to think again, only to feel Thanadir insistently raising her chin. "Earlene, please. Do not make me watch you suffer." And he was using the sad eyes.

Goddammit. The worst part was knowing that he was right, at a time when she was truly struggling because she wanted to act like Lorna. Lorna, who always seemed so tough, and able to do anything, push past anything. "Help me, please," she said to Thranduil. "Thanadir is right." Though I hate to admit it more than I can say.

"I will be behind you, meluieg. You will feel my hands on you." For what it is worth, meluieg, I believe you have chosen wisely. When the next one came, it still felt like her insides were being squeezed out. She still could not breathe. But instead of the nearly unbearable pain was just a feeling of...it was difficult to describe. Unpleasant. Forceful. Icky. Those were her three best adjectives, and they still caused her to hold onto Thanadir as a distraction from now not nice the sensations were.

"Ratiri, could you please bring me water, or tea? Anything, to drink?" The irony, of being in a huge pool of water and feeling so thirsty…

"Of course," he said, heading out into the sitting-room. The pot was still warm (of course; Elves), so he poured a cup. She was doing well so far, and he had to admit, he was fascinated by the whole process. He'd never witnessed a pool-birth, and Thranduil and Thanadir seemed to be keeping her from feeling too much pain.

He returned to the pool-side, handing the tea to Earlene, courteously looking away. He hardly cared, but he wasn't sure she'd appreciate anything like scrutiny. He stood just in time to hear Lorna say, rather quietly, "Well...that's unfortunate. Allanah, help." Even as she spoke she was waddling toward the room with the toilet. "And embarra-oh, good Jesus."

"Lorna?" he asked, making his way around the tub.

"...Liquid," she said, eyes squeezed shut. "Either I've pissed myself, or my waters'v broken. Without any fucking warning, I might add," she said, opening her eyes and glaring at him.

"I did tell you not every woman has any," he said, taking her hand.

"Same thing happened to me, Lorna," quipped Earlene. "Standing right where you are standing, in fact. Maybe it's a lucky spot?" Her humor was surfacing very weirdly, just now.

"It's kind'v inconvenient timing," Lorna said, and yes, there was a touch of panic, simply because Earlene was still very much in need of the pool and Thranduil.

"You'll be fine, Lorna," Ratiri soothed. "I know you probably don't want to hear this, but it will be a while before you need in there. Let's just get your bottoms off for now; nobody'll see anything under your robe."

"Thank Christ for that," Lorna muttered. "Allanah, I need a vest top or something. I haven't got one on under my tunic, and I don't want to get in the water in this."

"Lorna and Ratiri," Thranduil said, "if the water would make you feel better, use the pool. We hardly need more than a tiny space. Be at home. And Lorna, you do have plenty of time. I do not believe Earlene will need more than the next few hours, much sooner than you will require my undivided attention. Your early contractions should not be that bad. If they are, you are to tell me right away. Please," he said, smiling. "And, Earlene does not care what either of you look or stare at. We all know whence the children will exit, and the sight is strange to no one here."

Lorna looked at Ratiri. "You'd be more comfortable there than anywhere else," he said. "I'll get you a top, and I'll get my shorts so I can get in with you."

"Okay," she said, grimacing a bit. He kissed her forehead and left her to it, while she tried to strip off her leggings without taking her knickers along with them. Of all the damn luck...she hadn't felt anything she'd call a contraction yet; the closest was a very, very vague tightness at the base of her spine. Yes, Ratiri had told her not all women had any warning before their waters broke, but still . She was glad it was in here, and not out in front of God and everyone.

When he returned, he was clad in the ungodly dorky cargo shorts she'd mercifully never seen him wear - he was an utter dweeb who happened to look like a magazine model, and she would never understand it. He helped hold her robe while she got out of the tunic (unpleasantly wet on the bottom) and into the vest-top, which was so huge and long it might as well have been a minidress. Only now did she realize that, being white, once it got wet it wouldn't be of any use whatsoever. Fuck it, she had hair.

Ratiri had to help her into the pool, and he sat behind her hand held her secure against him. It was calming, though now that she was in the water, she was much less nervous. If she had a while to wait, at least she was in a nice warm tub. If one could even call such a glorious, natural spring a 'tub'.

"When am I supposed to goddamn breathe?" erupted Earlene, panting. The first five minutes of this had been...manageable. But now? "I feel like a tube of toothpaste in the hands of a demented four year old," came out in truncated bursts. The three of them had found a way to walk in endless circles, since the walking helped her feel better. But the squeezing, the relentless squeezing, even in the absence of the terrible pain was difficult to bear. "Is this what it feels like to be killed by a constrictor snake?"

Thranduil glanced up worriedly at Lorna, grimacing at the comment, only to see that she was laughing about it. Eru, why do I even try to understand what will upset these firith? With a sigh, he returned his focus to his wife, after a hiss of pain brought him up short for his inattention.

"Earlene, very soon you are going to feel like you want to push. You are almost there. Remember to push when the contractions happen."

"Almost there? They said that about the Bar Exam, and that didn't end either," she growled. This brought a chuckle from Ratiri, who was seeing something of a new side of Earlene now that she was pressed to her limits. Another one came and she felt...something. It was indescribable; a sensation of the watermelon stuck inside of her wedging itself even more firmly, stretching out a place not ever stretched before. All she could do is stare at Thanadir in disbelief as she panted for air, though his eyes held no answer to what had just happened.

"You felt the head of one of the girls beginning to slip past your womb, meluieg."

"Oh," she panted. It felt so strange, to feel sweaty all over her face and neck, but...in a pool. A sudden and definite desire came over her. "I want to be in shallower water. I want to sit down. The three of them moved in that direction, but Thranduil did not remain behind her any longer. He stayed to one side, Thandir took the other. And sure enough, when the next contraction came, so did the urge she was warned about.

"Push, Earlene," Thanadir said encouragingly. "Do your best."

What does it look like I'm doing, my worst, you insufferable elf?

Thranduil's eyebrows raised, but if this was the extent of her temper during birth, they were lucky indeed. And she had kept it to her thoughts, which meant that they likely did not go beyond...he saw his seneschal's eyebrows raise. So much for that hope. But Thanadir took her mental outburst with humor and no offense. A different tactic was tried.

"Push, Earlene. As hard as you can."

An immense amount of something like growling accompanied this effort, which brought on a new and even weirder sensation. It was muted, a lot, but there was a strange burning, and the only comparison she could find was from the day her husband had taken her virginity...times at least twenty five.

Lorna looked at Ratiri. He didn't need telepathy to be able to read her mind: Did she just growl ? If poised, classy Earlene could emit such a sound, she had to be utterly hating life. That...really wasn't encouraging. At all. The point of this had been to see what happened for reassurance, but it was having a bit of the opposite effect for Lorna.

"It's normal," Ratiri said quietly. "It's nothing to be afraid of."

"Says you," she muttered. "You're not the one shoving two watermelons out your snatch."

He tried to choke back a laugh, and failed. "They're nowhere near that big," he said. "Cantaloupes, maybe. Not watermelons."

"I should've known what I was in for when I found you had a langer like two Coke cans stacked together," she grumbled. "Should've warned me, but nooo, and now I'm stuck with a pair'v miniature bowling balls in my gut. Thanks. "

Ratiri couldn't help it; the sheer sourness in her tone made him utterly lose what composure he had. "Lorna, you certainly have a way with words," he said, and winced when he received a very pointy elbow to the gut.

Thranduil closed his eyes, unable to not hear Lorna and Ratiri's exchange. What has happened to my life? And yet he had to focus on his wife. "Wait a moment, if you are able, Earlene. You will feel me touch you; if I do not help your body here, you will tear. It is not stretching fast enough for the baby's head."

Her eyes widened. She'd read about that happening and... please, not that . It sounded barbarically awful.

"You will be fine," soothed Thanadir, on seeing her worry. "Prepare for your next contraction, get ready to…"

"Push," she growled again, her eyes squeezed shut from the effort. Perspiration was running down her face and neck, which he blotted away with a washcloth to help cool her. The pool water was warm, which was good, but this kind of effort left her beyond warm enough already. She reached down with her hand, transfixed at these strange and completely awful sensations. Her heart leaped, she could feel the edge of a little head, and there was some hair there. At this point, a primal yearning she would never understand no matter how often she thought about it overruled everything else. That baby was wanted, in her arms, and there was only one way to get it. When the next contraction came, she grabbed onto the unfortunate Thanadir's arms with a grip he would not have believed possible from a human woman. She pushed twice as hard as anything she could have imagined, and she could imagine a lot. This felt like trying to shove a football down one of the three inch irrigation pipes at gran's farm. Or if she really wanted to be accurate, something like trying to crap out a softball might be a better description. Because honestly, what tube anything was coming out of was frankly not discernible right now. I am tiring, and this part is hard. Really hard . For the next three contractions, she gave her all, and felt unspeakably disappointed as the baby's head seemed to advance with her pushing, only to retreat back into her. It was not stuck, but neither was it moving along very fast at all.

The softly whispered advice came again. "Take deep breaths when you feel the contraction building, Earlene. Work with your body as much as you can. Stop pushing in between, and take your rest. You can already see how difficult this is. That is how to make it happen fastest."

As much as she wanted to say something completely rude to Thanadir, what remained of her logical mind realized he was right. Nodding, she pitched herself forward more, her tailbones barely on the bench inside the pool, her legs spread apart very wide. She did everything he said, pushed mightily, and blinking through tears of wretched discomfort, felt a head that did not slide back in. A smile crept over her face.

"I cannot let go of you, meluieg, but you may hold onto me if you need to. She is almost born. Let Thanadir go, so that he can help you catch her."

Nodding again, she tried to simply breathe, as she released her hold on the seneschal. She felt irrationally jealous of Thanadir, able to see her baby's face when she could not because of her belly eclipsing her view. But she could feel her. When the next one came, Thanadir gently angled the infant down, so that its shoulder could slip out. First one shoulder, then the other. "Push, Earlene," he coaxed one last time. So much pressure, and then...nothing. It felt like a dam had burst, as slick baby ran past her fingers. Before she had another second to think about it, her daughter was in her arms, and her husband's arms were around hers. There was complete silence. Earlene looked at the little girl, and she looked back. She wasn't like Allanah at all...there was awareness, not the tabula rasa of a human child. Tears ran from all three of their eyes. With a tiny hand reaching out toward Thranduil, the little fist grasped at his hair. When Earlene looked at her husband, she no longer had to wonder what pure joy meant for him. He was, quite literally, radiant. "She has your eyes, Thranduil," Earlene whispered.

"And your hair, meluieg." The child was beautiful, and not just because Earlene thought so.

Lorna looked at the baby, and at Ratiri. "You're wrong," she said. "Not all babies look like Winston Churchill."

He tried not to laugh. He really did, but it just...happened. "That is a beautiful baby," he said. "And she does not, in fact, look like Winston Churchill."

The stars came before the moon, beloved. Eleniel Seren?

Yes.

"Meet your Uncle Thanadir, Eleniel," said Thranduil, carefully passing the child to him.

In a moment of perfect happiness, Thanadir smiled down on the little elfling, while Thranduil reached over to unclasp Earlene's swim top, freeing her breasts. She watched in morbid fascination as the umbilical cord pulsed with blood, as Eleniel was offered her nipple. The mere sight of those precious little lips was enough to cause her milk to bead up. Thanadir and Thranduil already had their preparations for cutting the cord; two short lengths of white silk ribbon. A third ribbon was looped around her tiny ankle and carefully tied by Thanadir. When the cord turned white, it was tied off firmly in two places and cut betwixt. As the infant nursed, it was easy to forget that this process would need to be repeated. With difficulty, she tried to reconcile herself to this reality.

Thinking it was for the best, she held Eleniel out of the water to nurse. And here, in the pool, Lorna was able to meet the little girl. Ratiri with his long arms handed Earlene towels, and with only slight awkwardness was the baby wrapped in dry linens while Earlene nursed her poolside. It was decided to bring everyone out, for a time, so when Thranduil was out of the water, she was lifted up by both Thanadir and her husband, baby and all, dried and helped into a robe. To say that it was odd, to wander outside the bathing room with the dangling umbilical cord still between her legs was perhaps the understatement of the year. Thanadir held onto her; now that the initial elation was over, Earlene realized how weak and tired she felt. "She is beautiful, meldir," as they sat by the fire. Fortunately whatever the fabric was of Thanadir's pool garment, it held little enough moisture that a towel was able to manage it. "Thank you, for how much you helped me. You are an accomplished leader, for which I am very grateful."

"You are welcome, Earlene. But we are not done yet," he said, even as one of his strong hands massaged her abdomen, causing occasional cries of discomfort to escape from her. "I am sorry this hurts," he said sympathetically, "but we must keep your womb working; its task is not yet complete."

A great sigh was her only answer.

Thranduil spoke briefly with Lorna and Ratiri. "We will be away from the pool for perhaps twenty minutes, just long enough for the baby to nurse. This will help Earlene's womb contract down; if her body is not already beginning to push out the next baby in earnest by then I will have to help. Ithiliel must come out soon," he beamed, then left to have something to eat. He too would have to keep up his strength; this day was far from over for him. When he was done, he relieved Thanadir so that he also could take food.

It was with extreme reluctance that Earlene handed over a relaxed and sleeping Eleniel to Thranduil; Lothiriel would care for her. The elleth was astonished at the beauty of the child, and took her from the King as though she were made of glass.

"You have no idea how much I wish you could wave a wand and have her out. I am trying to find the mettle to continue, though there is no other choice. I feel I have not really been very good at this," she confessed.

"You are doing well, meluieg." In his own tiredness and preoccupation, he did not give her comment the consideration it deserved; something he would soon regret.

Lorna, wrapped up in an enormous fluffy towel, was experiencing contractions at rate which alarmed the hell out of her. She couldn't really call them painful at first - it was merely a very odd sensation, and Ratiri assured her it was nothing to worry about.

"Every birth is different," he said, massaging her shoulders. "Some take hours, like Earlene's, and some can take days. Fortunately, it doesn't look like you'll be in that category." Indeed his only worry was that one of them would decide they needed to make an appearance before Thranduil was ready to deal with her pelvis. Earlene was still very much in need of him - though her labor was progressing well, and if worst came to absolute worst, he could tend to her long enough for Thranduil to work with Lorna. He hated the idea of leaving her while this was being done, and hoped like hell he wouldn't need to, but with two women in labor, they'd have to do what they'd have to do.

"This is just weird - oh," she gasped. "Okay, that hurt." It was a little bit like period cramps, but only a little - it seemed to grab her whole abdomen, including her back, very much like some kind of internal vice decided to take hold of everything and squeeze. While it wasn't terribly painful, it was definitely...noticeable. Very much so.

Ratiri began counting in his head, still rubbing her shoulders. When the next one came not quite two minutes later, a frisson of worry curled through him. He wasn't very worried - yes, they were close, but they were also still quite mild - but a trace of it was there. Trust Lorna to have a terribly atypical childbirth, especially while poor Earlene was still very much in the throes of hers.

"I know telling you to breathe seems unhelpful, but it's not," he said, looking down at Lorna. "Deep breaths, in and out. Keep them slow. Just remember that Thranduil can keep it from hurting too much."

"Earlene didn't look like she was having any fun, even with that," Lorna pointed out.

Ratiri smoothed the hair back from her forehead. "Well, it's never fun, but it doesn't need to be hell. I know you don't want to hear this, but walking a bit will help you dilate faster." Given how close her contractions were, that was probably a very good idea. His shorts were unpleasantly chilly outside the water, but Thranduil had numerous robes, and hopefully wouldn't begrudge the use of one - or two, since Lorna needed one as well, her own robe being wet from the breaking of her waters. It was so enormous on her it was possibly the most adorable thing Ratiri had ever seen, but he valued his bollocks too much to say so.

The length of the thing made it difficult for her to walk, and no matter how many times she pushed the sleeves back, they still fell down over her hands. In the end he took her arm, helping her pace the length of the room a few times, always pausing near the warmth of the fire.

"I don't feel dilated," she grumbled, pausing to admire Eleniel. The baby really was the most beautiful she'd ever seen, with none of the squashed, red, well...Winston Churchill look you found on other newborns. "I just feel - oh, okay. Nope ." She stumbled a bit, her knees buckling as she grabbed the back of the sofa. It had been a brief pain, starting small and rising to a rather awful crescendo before ebbing once more.

Ratiri took hold of her, helping her upright again. "Keep breathing," he said, hands rested lightly on her arms as she walked, ready to catch her if she stumbled again.

"I am breathing," she snapped. " You might not be, if you keep harassing me about it."

It was a good thing she couldn't see his expression, because he was trying very, very hard to contain his laughter.

"Beidh mé dúnmharú tú in éadan," she growled, resting her hand against the back of the sofa and leaning on it. "Is cuma liom cé chomh deas is atá sé." I will murder you in the the face. I don't care how pretty it is.

"I know 'dúnmharú' is 'murder'," he said, lightly massaging her neck. "So I probably don't want to know what the rest means."

"You'd best hope you don't find out," she said darkly, and paused in her tracks as another roll of pain went through her. "Mac Dé diabhal de soith," she ground out. She didn't want to taint the ears of the little one, but if it was in Irish, nobody else knew what she said. " Focáil seo. An féidir liom suí síos go fóill?" Her brain switched back to English. "Can I sit down yet?"

"For a minute," Ratiri said, helping her onto the sofa.

Thranduil's eyes widened as he turned his attention from eating some fruit and a roll to the sensations coming to him via Lorna's mind. Oh Valar, not two at once ...chewing and swallowing in a manner that was distinctly un-Kingly, he shot Lothiriel a look of apology. She had bowed her head in deference to him the moment he met her eyes, but she could not completely hide the smile of amusement at the corners of her mouth. "Gely odrim, i Aran nîn," (many blessings, my King). Which was of course a polite way to say, too many blessings all at once !

Rushing to the next room, he knelt to feel Lorna's abdomen. "She must come into the pool, right away," he said to Ratiri, trying to adopt a tone of voice that would enable them to feel reassured. To Earlene he said, "Thanadir will continue to massage your abdomen, Earlene. Take some rest now; your womb is fatigued, but we cannot wait too long to have the second child be born. If your body does not recover soon on its own, I will intervene. If your contractions are too difficult Thanadir will bring you to me, but I must help Lorna now."

As she watched him retreat, Earlene shook her head. Just having one of the children out made her feel so much better; she did not see what the hurry had to be but would not contradict him. All this time, and these kids have to pick the same three hours...what were the odds? Then she remembered, La Luna. Some in folklore believed a full moon brought odd influences...and after every weird thing that had already transpired in her life, who was to say? I don't want the name Selena after all , she thought. I want to call her middle name Morríghan . Besides, Lorna had shown her Moon-Moon memes on the internet and...even a small risk of the dual names' meaning getting out seemed like a risk. No child of hers was going to be teased about being a demented wolf. And knowing that her daughters would be dark-haired with dazzling blue eyes... I'd like to see someone pick on a kid named Morríghan.

Whatever you wish, meluieg. Traditionally the elleth's preference in names is given a great weight; we feel it is the right of the one who has carried and labored to bring the child into the world to choose.

She did not respond, imagining that he was rather busy just now, but a smile came over her.

Another contraction decided to make itself known in Lorna's abdomen, curling around to her back and down along her inner thighs. Ratiri helped her get the robe off - which she was so thrilled about, given she'd taken off the wet vest-top, but whatever. Again, she had so much hair it was practically a garment in its own right, and obscured everything she actually needed obscured. "Is one'v them ready to get out?" she asked, looking at Thranduil a touch desperately while Ratiri found his shorts. He got in with her, and of course wound up tangled in her hair as well. It really was a bit like Cthulhu. "I'd thought first-timers lasted longer than this."

"Not always," Ratiri said, struggling to free a hand from the wet mass. "There was a woman in Scotland, a first-time mother who had her baby in a little over five minutes."

Wouldn't that be nice , she thought, as she felt another contraction start to gather. They weren't short things; they'd start with tension, then climb their way up into 'ow-fuck-no' levels before easing back down again.

Thranduil came to her. "You must tell me what you want, Lorna. I can cause you to feel nothing at all, but if I do so, you will have a very detached experience; it will be difficult for you to push or to understand what your body is asking of you. What I did with Earlene was to remove the experience of pain; everything you saw her react to were other forms of discomfort and the sensations of pressure. I can also try for something in between. You are going to feel my hands at the sides of your abdomen. If we are both fortunate, I will not need to touch you anywhere else." He hoped her sense of humor was intact. While he would willingly do what was needed, they both were in agreement as to their...preferences.

While feeling nothing at all sounded like a great idea, if she wasn't going to be able to push right, it probably wasn't. "I guess just do what you did with - focáil gach rud - what you did with Earlene." She managed to laugh a little, even though she'd ground her teeth against the contraction. "If these kids've got any manners, you won't have to. One'v them seems to want out in a hurry - you might just need a catcher's mitt."

"You may change your mind at any point in the birth, Lorna. Much of why I am asking is that from all I have read, this is an important experience for each woman and I do not want to deny you any part of it that you want." He closed his eyes. "You are not ready to push yet, the contractions you are having are to open your cervix. Thanadir distracted Earlene and coached her to breathe through these, as you saw. Ratiri, you should try to do the same. She may feel better to have her lower back rubbed. And...there is not room enough, for the child to pass through, Lorna. I am going to have to unknit the bones of your pelvis. There will be no pain but you will not be able to walk properly until the second child is born; it is important that you not try to do so without being supported. Do you understand?"

Lorna stared at him, wide-eyed. " Unknit? " she asked. She wasn't sure what that entailed, but she could guess easily enough, and just... eurgh . "Okay. Um...Jesus." Her heart sped up until it was beating a tattoo within her chest, and Ratiri brushed her hair back from her forehead, his other hand reaching down to knead at her back.

"Trust him," he said, though inwardly he was even more stunned. He'd wondered just what in God's name Thranduil had actually planned to do, to widen her pelvic arch - for all he said the body did what he wanted it to do, even he couldn't create matter where there was none - but this made sense. A curious, slightly horrifying sense, and yet if it wasn't his girlfriend this was being demonstrated on, he would have been fascinated.

She nodded. "I get it," she said, now even more freaked out.

Thranduil felt such empathy for her. "Lorna," he said, his thumb stroking her cheek, "I will not allow harm to come to you. There will be no pain from this, only a feeling of warmth. Do not be afraid. This is something your body already can do; I am just going to help it along quite a lot more than it wants to on its own." She felt his hands slide down to grasp each of her hip bones and immediately the promised sensation of warmth began, even as he glowed somewhat.

All right, that was just... odd . Like nothing she had ever felt before, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, though it felt so unnatural that something in her mind shied away from it. She didn't look to see what he was doing - not that she could have anyway, given her gut full of human cantaloupe - but she couldn't help rather gruesome mental imagery, all of it based around chestbursters from the Alien movies. What if all her guts fell out? Oh, she knew they wouldn't, because she knew Thranduil would make sure they didn't, but still, what if they did ?

"Breathe, Lorna," Ratiri said gently, still stroking her hair with one hand and her back with the other.

She glared up at him. "Tá mé ag análú," she snarled. "If you tell me to breathe one more bloody time , Ratiri Duncan, I swear to Christ I'll rip your lungs out, Viking-style."

Ratiri was just pleased she could still be so bloodthirsty. If wanting to murder him took her mind off her fear, so be it.

"And to think I felt sorry for Thanadir," the King teased, knowing that she probably wouldn't lash out at him. Probably.

Ratiri, forgive this personal question but I know it will only embarrass Lorna at a time she needs to be focused on what she is doing. Is there a risk she will tear? I would deal with that now as well if I must, rather than repair it later.

There is, unfortunately, Ratiri said. These are not small babies, and even with a widened pelvis, her vaginal tract is still small. It really was a good thing she couldn't read minds, or she would probably murder all of them.

" Thanadir has Puss in Boots eyes," Lorna said, still glaring up at Ratiri. "This one sort'v does, but not half so effective. And they'll be even less effective if I rip his lungs out."

"And what would you do with my lungs, once you had them?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Cook them up and feed them to someone I don't like," she said, doing a somewhat passable Hannibal Lecter imitation with her tongue. With sweat-sticky strands of hair half-glued to her face, her wide eyes like green fire, she looked close to deranged.

Ratiri blinked. "Never change, mo chroí," he said. "Never change."

By Eru, there is not enough wine for this , Thranduil privately lamented. How to explain the next necessity was flustering even him. It felt entirely serendipitous that Thanadir and Earlene chose just that moment to return to the pool, though she had insisted at going to look at Eleniel one more time. And Allanah too. There were more contractions, and though they were not that bad, they would feel better in the pool. It bolstered him, somehow, to have his wife nearby to speak of this. "Lorna, there is another problem. If I do not help you, the baby will cause you to tear. I do not think either one of us wants that to happen, but in order to care for this I will need to touch you somewhere I would rather not. I am very sorry. Do I have your consent?"

Earlene felt so, so sorry for him. He was being forced to be a doctor, radically out of context. Broken finger, ineffective vagina; they should not be that different, but try telling that to two people who would just rather not deal with the latter.

Oh dear God ...yeah, this was so, so not what she needed, but he wouldn't say this if it wasn't actually imperative. "Okay," she said, grimacing, looking at the ceiling rather than anything else. This was quite easily, hands-down, the single most mortifying experience of her entire life. Good. Fucking. God .

Ratiri wisely didn't say anything - just kept on with her hair and her lower back. "How do you say 'I will rip your lungs out' in Irish?" he asked, doing his best to distract her.

Well that makes two of us, just so you know, Thranduil fired back. He truly did not want to do this, but he would not watch her flesh tear apart when he could prevent it. With one of the more interesting expressions Earlene had ever seen on her husband's face (later on she decided that it looked like he had just slowly chewed on half of a lemon) he reached down and cupped her nether regions and forced himself to concentrate on creating the far greater elasticity that would be needed to safely allow the children to pass through. His fingers did not so much as twitch, and it was with great happiness that he removed his hand. The good news was, the next contraction was here, which gave both of them something else to think about. She was dilating at a great rate of speed, which justified the soundness of his choices, even as it did nothing to ease his feelings.

"Yeah, that's one I'll not be telling the kids," she said, trying to cover the awkwardness a bit. "They don't need to know Mammy's snatch was broken so Uncle Thranduil fixed it."

Ratiri burst out laughing, trying to smother it in her hair. "You and your way with words, mo chroí," he said. "No, that's not one you should be telling."

She glowered at him, but a moment later lost it herself, giggling so hard she could barely breathe. Really, what else could you do, with something so awkward?

"You have to laugh or you'll cry," said Earlene softly. "And yet it sure beats being sewn up like a torn shirt."

"That it does," Lorna said, still giggling. "These kids had better be the most adorable things that've ever lived. Yours didn't look like Winston Churchill, maybe mine won't either."

"Ours are fully human," Ratiri pointed out, and only realized his error too late, when she jabbed him hard in the ribs with her elbow. "Sorry. But I'm sure they'll be adorable once they stop looking like him."

"You just keep digging yourself deeper," Lorna warned. "Go on, do it."

"You twooooof!" What began as a chuckle ended in another contraction that caused her to instinctively clutch onto Thanadir. She could feel that things were moving, and that they felt different than before. The contraction did not feel so hard, nor did it last so long. Was that a thing? What most definitely was a thing was the sudden and intense ache in her lower back. Words were failing her as she simply took the seneschal's hand and placed it where the pain was. All she wanted to do now was lean against him, and get a spinal transplant.

Lorna drew a deep breath, for once not at Ratiri's urging, feeling another contraction start to roll. Her instinct was to push, so push she did, and - wait, what ? The sensation of something just sliding on out was so startling it drew a "holy shit! " from her, along with a wide-eyed look at Thranduil. "Did I just - what the fuck was that?!" It certainly felt like something just passing right on out down south, but babies didn't just do that, did they?

Had he not been privy to her thoughts, Thranduil might not have been ready. As it was, he had to swiftly release her abdomen to catch the child and lift it into her arms, all in the blink of an eye. "Meet your daughter, Lorna." The sight of the precious child had just made all the mortifying feelings he'd endured worth it, for Ratiri had been right about the size of the baby. Short of his gifts, or the humans' advanced medicine, this would have gone very differently.

It had all happened so fast that Lorna was severely startled at having the baby deposited in her arms. She stared at the little girl, who was already demonstrating to the world that her lungs worked just fine. She had the redness common to newborns, but even underneath it, Lorna could tell the kid was much, much paler than either her or Ratiri - and she had a full two inches of curly, bright red hair on her tiny head.

"Are we sure this one's ours?" Lorna asked, running her finger over the downy hair. To feel this little one, weighing less than a cat, seemingly so fragile...this child was hers. Theirs . Tiny, or so she thought; she wasn't exactly up on how big a newborn was meant to be. "Hello, Chandra. That's some very red hair you've got."

The baby actually opened her eyes - vivid green, just like her mother's - and stared. Lorna stared back, wondering if this was what being God felt like.

"She's beautiful," Ratiri said, wrapping his arms around Lorna more firmly, so he could hold them both. "Nobody will ever believe she's ours , but she's beautiful."

"Christ, they'll think we stole her," Lorna groaned, unable to take her eyes off the baby. "How can she have this hair?"

"Your mother and my father were both redheads," Ratiri said, "and mixed-race children can look like anything. This one's going to need a lot of sunscreen."

"You should try to feed her right away, Lorna," Thranduil said. "Even before it is time to cut the cord. You can...help her?" he asked Ratiri. He understood the man's level of distraction from what he might ordinarily be considering at the moment. While he was not fully certain, he did not believe Lorna had taken advantage of the chance to ask Earlene questions about breastfeeding, which was far from as simple as it looked. Especially at first.

"I can," Ratiri said, still watching the baby as he shifted the tangle of Lorna's hair off one breast, shielding her as best he could as he walked her through it, teaching her how to shift the baby against her to guide her nipple to their daughter's mouth. Lorna had never been thrilled at having anything done to her nipples at all, and oh, this was not pleasant. Kid had to eat, but it made her twitch.

I will fix that. Without touching anything. Them. There. Lorna had not been sure it was possible for a telepathic voice to grumble but she was pretty sure she was hearing it now. At the moment, he seemed fairly occupied with Earlene, and yet he broke away long enough to place a hand on her shoulder. This should help. If it does not help enough you are to tell me. It is meant to feel relaxing, pleasurable, else you will not wish to do this and will come to resent it.

Lorna was so tired that 'relaxing' wasn't hard to come by, once he'd done...whatever he did. It was no longer unpleasant, at any rate; the oversensitivity issue ceased to be an issue, and it let her hold the baby without tension. Thank you , she said, watching her daughter. A little of the redness was leaving the baby's skin - she was going to be as pale as an elf, Lorna just knew it. Yeah, they were going to need to invest in sunscreen. Buckets of it.

"We can give you a little more time, meluieg," he was overheard to say. "You must make the choice between a little more rest now, or charging on to the finish line. Either way I am going to have to help you; the strength of your body to keep pushing the baby out is waning."

Earlene sighed. That was like a choice between a root canal or two crowns at the dentist , in her estimation. "Could I please have some more to drink? And then let's get this over with. I'll have no proper rest until she is born, unless I am misunderstanding you." Thanadir compliantly returned to her with water. Someone had had the brains to place a pitcher on a tray with drinking bowl at the poolside. As much as she wanted more, something told her that might be a bad idea.

Thranduil came behind her, holding onto her again. "This is going to be difficult for you, Earlene. Are you ready?"

Is it wrong if I tell you that I miss it when you used to only tell me part of the truth? She asked wistfully, recalling his assorted deceptions. She did not really mean that, it was only that this was an unpleasant reality to hear about, just now.

He laughed softly, reaching around to kiss her.

"Yes," is what she said aloud, drawing strength from Thanadir, who she knew would find some way to talk her through this.

The next hour and a half was not fun. Not fun at all. Whatever her husband was magically doing to make her uterus respond reminded her of those electro-stimulating devices that caused uncontrolled muscle contractions. The discomfort was significant and she was way past counting backward in dead languages to try to take her mind off of it. Thanadir seemed to understand this, and did not interfere when she basically held onto him like a barnacle and grimaced, rolling her forehead from side to side. He did whisper to her to breathe, and never stopped rubbing her back. The rhythm of his hand as it traced circles over various places that ached gave her something on which she could focus. It became like counting sheep, except it was counting circles.

When the time came to push, she gave her best, but was not apparently pushing hard enough, because after the fourth attempt she heard Thranduil. I am so sorry, Earlene. I am going to have to help you with this too. You will not be able to manage otherwise. This is going to be very uncomfortable, and will involve more muscles of your body, but she must be born.

This felt like a heavy blow, and she could not help that she began crying. Just do it , she told him, past caring. Fortunately her memories of the next many minutes were muted, afterward, though she would always know that the time was spent sobbing in pain against Thanadir. There was no easy way to describe having your body be forced to expel a child when it was basically saying, 'fuck all of you.' But in the end it was managed, and their second daughter, who certainly appeared to be a carbon copy of the first, entered the world. There were not words for how exhausted she felt. In a complete departure from anything usual, Thanadir held Earlene in his arms in shallower water, allowing the baby to nurse someplace halfway dry. Thranduil was fairly determined to move things along a little faster than nature; the placentas needed to be delivered before she could leave the pool. Or rather, it would make for far less mess if this were cared for here. Earlene barely remembered meeting Ithiliel, nursing her, or how she was transferred to her own bed, laid on several thicknesses of soft towels, and covered with a warm blanket. At some point, Thanadir exchanged his wet clothes for dry ones. He did not leave her side, feeding her little slices of fruit or offering sips of water. And comfort, because she felt like an emotional wreck; he held her against him and murmured about assorted minutiae, more for the sound of his voice than the content. She did not know what time it was, nor did she care; only that now she could rest and did not want to move.

Lorna's son seemed reluctant to enter the world, but eventually he did, kicking and squalling. He looked far more like his parents, his complexion darker than his sister's even beneath the redness, with a head of wispy black hair - though when he opened his eyes, his too were as green as his mother's. At least they would sort of look like siblings. Lorna let him latch onto her other breast until Ratiri took him and passed him to Lothiriel, kneeling to help her out of the pool. Even through the delirium of exhaustion, she was pleased to see her own feet again; all the weight lifting had left her less soft around the middle than she'd expected, though she'd still be wearing very loose tunics for a while yet.

Ratiri got her washed and dried and bundled into her robe again, though she wasn't much help there; she wasn't quite dead weight, but she was so tired she could barely move. Being warm and dry helped, her hair wrapped in a towel to keep it from just soaking her again. "It's over, mo chroí," he said gently.

"Thank. Fucking. God ," she said, her voice a rasp. "I mean it, allanah, we are never doing that again. And by 'we', I mean 'me'."

Ratiri wasn't quite sure where to put her, so he carried her to the bed with Earlene. He didn't want to take her and the twins back to their room quite yet - they seemed healthy, but he'd still rather keep them within touching distance of Thranduil for a few hours, just in case. Unsurprisingly, Lorna fell asleep immediately, so he spent a while combing her hair and watching his children - they'd been placed in a basket, with a pillow for a mattress, and were as unconscious as their mother. While they were obviously fully human, they were nevertheless the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

He had to laugh a bit about his daughter, though. While there were cases of mixed-race twins looking like two entirely different races, it was rare, and even more rare that one of them came out a flaming ginger. They were, he knew, going to need a lot of advice from Mairead, especially if little Chandra's hair stayed curly. He had no idea how to style and care for curly hair, and Lorna's was so dead straight he doubted she did, either. His dad would laugh himself sick if he could see this little one - he'd lamented once that he'd be the last ginger in the family. Obviously not.

It was odd. He was a pediatrician - he knew just about everything there was to know about babies, and yet he was scared shitless. He'd discovered in short order that it was very different when the kids were your kids.

Thranduil, looking the most exhausted Ratiri had ever seen him, had finally allowed himself to eat a real meal. He looked at the bed, as if the sleeping women there were some sort of Mt. Everest. Screwing himself up for one last effort, the King spoke.

"Now they have to be healed from what was done to make the birth possible. Especially Lorna, who at the moment cannot walk. I hope you will forgive me for wanting to do this now while she is asleep; the embarrassment for both of us when she was awake is not something I particularly wish to experience twice." The expression on his face was one of query, asking permission.

Ratiri tried not go grimace. "Probably the best idea," he said. "Somehow I doubt she'll be looking you in the eyes for a while. I don't think I've ever seen her so mortified."

Thranduil shook his head. "While it was not my idea of enjoyment either, I wish she were less...like this. It is harder on everyone and...please forgive me, I should not have said that. I am very…" he trailed off, walking to Lorna, and gingerly placing his hands at the sides of her hips, with his thumbs over someplace she would not appreciate were she awake, and closed his eyes in concentration. Perhaps twenty seconds later, both hands moved up to her abdomen. While Ratiri could not tell precisely what was happening because of Lorna's robe, it looked for all the world like she was...deflating. When he finally removed his hands, he spoke in barely above a whisper. "She should find herself as she was before the children. If anything is the matter please come to me...tomorrow. I am afraid I have reached my limit today." Without another word, he walked slowly to the sofa, laid down on it, and fell asleep in seconds.

Ratiri looked at Thanadir with bewilderment; he was the only one in the room still left awake. "He had to expend a great deal of his power, today. I do not believe any of us anticipated that all the children could possibly arrive at once," the old elf said.

"I certainly didn't," Ratiri said dryly. "Thanadir, can you help me get Lorna and the children back to our rooms? She'll be happier waking in her own bed, and Maerwen can help me keep an eye on the twins, if she's free." He was going to need sleep himself soon, and he hadn't even done anything strenuous. It had been as emotionally exhausting as it was physically - and in two hours, he and Lorna would need to be up to feed the babies. "I need to get a breast pump, so we can at least take turns waking up."

With reluctance, he looked down at Earlene, and told himself that she was not going anywhere, and nodded. "Earlene's device was obtained from the chemist in the village. I do not know if it is too late now but if this is very important I can try."

"We'll be fine for one night," Ratiri assured him. "Earlene and Thranduil need you right now. If nothing else, I'll hold the baby while he or she nurses, and Lorna can stay asleep."

"You wish me to carry her to your rooms?"

"I can carry her, but not the babies," Ratiri said, feeling some obscure need to do this himself. She was so dead asleep that she didn't so much as stir when he lifted her, but she was much easier to carry now that she was minus two babies, placentas, and assorted fluids. "We can just put them beside our bed for now, and I'll set up the cradle tomorrow." They had brought Lorna's gran's cradle, which was more than big enough for the two of them, but they hadn't been expecting to use it quite so soon.

Thanadir retrieved little Chandra and Shane and followed Ratiri through the Halls, leaving once they were settled properly. "Maerwen will have her assignment change beginning tomorrow. If you find you need yet more help you are to tell us, please. And...congratulations," he smiled. "Galu." Turning to leave, he closed their door behind him and returned to the King's rooms, checking that Lothiriel had what she required before he returned to Earlene. To his surprise, she was not asleep, but curled in a ball, staring blankly at nothing. And tears were leaking out of her eyes, though it was not easy to see. He hurried to her. "Meldis, what is wrong, are you in pain?"

She shook her head No, but would not answer him. The only response he gained was when he held her against him, she returned the gesture by wrapping her arms around his chest. "Please? Will you talk to me?" That only earned a more emphatic shaking of her head. He sighed. He too was very tired, and he was left with only one option, if he was to understand. The effort was made, but the problem was, while he now knew her thoughts, he still did not comprehend her emotions. He had never felt so frustrated with being...himself. It was worse, than when he merely did not understand his own mind. Now it was someone dear to him, that he did not know how to help, and at a time that should be marked by happiness. He held onto her, rubbing her back, until he too fell asleep from fatigue.