Author's Note: Thanks, Rubberkidney! You crack me up! :O) And finally, the OTHER moment we've all been waiting for!
Legolas stood at the door of the guestroom, staring over at the stretched-out forms of Arwen and Aragorn, side-by-side, brows pressed together. Her color was obviously better, but still she was clearly wounded, as was he. They would both need time to heal from the ordeal, the separation, they had suffered. If Ilúvatar was gracious to them, he would allow them time to recover, and for Enguina to forgive. But there would be time for that, and time for the many faces that healing would take.
He had left them alone for several hours after there had been no change, but Enguina had sent him to check on them after waking from a very uncomfortable sleep. Legolas was surviving, but only just. He was so concerned for Enguina that every nerve in his body was fried and his brain was mush, as if it had been squashed by a cave troll. If he was exhausted, he knew his wife, who had been struggling in labor for hours, was many times more so. The contractions were longer, closer together, causing him to remind her to breathe far too much. He felt that their baby should be joining them soon and that she would soon be pushing, but he also thought that she was in enough pain and he had no idea what to do to help her.
Legolas…
A grunt followed by a groan from down the hall brought him back to the present and sent him hurrying back to their bedroom.
"Guin?" he requested softly as he entered, reaching out to take her hand from the bed. She shook her head, clearly not breathing, one hand pressed to her womb, her head squashing the pillows as she strained silently. "Moina, you need to breathe," he reminded her gently, rubbing one hand along her belly. The other found her hand clenching the sheets and he slipped his hand inside where she immediately clung to it so fiercely her nails speared his palm. She slowly tried to let out the breath she had been holding, but it was clear she was in pain. "Remember?" he asked, an anxious knot forming in his throat when she did not respond. "Enguina?"
She nodded finally, releasing what was left of the breath, nearly panting. He looked up into her face to see her gnawing on her lower lip. "Lord…that was unpleasant…thank you for coming back…so quickly…"
"A tough contraction?"
"Longer…" she muttered, "and stronger…" She tried to relax a little more, shifting her shoulders and her weight side to side on the bed. "Tell me about Arwen."
The hand rubbing her belly took her other hand as well. "Are you sure you are all right?"
She ignored him stubbornly. "Arwen," she stated.
He sighed, but acquiesced. "Her color is returning; she is not so pale as she was. She is resting peacefully, finally, I think."
"So she is doing better then."
"From what I can see," he agreed, his voice hopeful. "I am fairly certain she will make a full recovery. It is difficult to explain, but…I feel that the atmosphere in the room is not as desperate as it was before. Perhaps she has decided not to die." He said the last words softly. "I hope she has."
Enguina's eyes narrowed. "If that is because of him—" Her words cut off as she winced, her nails gripping his hands as she strained, her chin coming down towards her chest as her hips twisted in her pain. He held her hands more tightly.
"Breathe, Guin," he whispered, but as she tried to do as he asked she cried out loud. It was several moments before she could regain control and then she dropped her head back to the pillow again, even more drained and exhausted than she had been moments before. The urge to push the baby went away for a few seconds—it was the first time she had felt something like that, as though she had needed to push.
"Oh…Eru…" she whispered. Is this it?
Legolas leaned into her, concern flooding his face. "Guin, is everything all right? 'Is it' what?"
She shook her head, trying to calm her breathing and force herself to speak in his calm tones. Even though she knew he was anxious, his voice was steady. "Legolas," she murmured, though her voice was strained, "I think our baby may be ready to join us."
Really? His eyes widened. "Are you certain?"
Enguina suddenly groaned through clenched teeth. "Yes, I truly do. I…feel heavy…stretched out, like I…am ready to split at the seams." She was breathing more heavily now, and Legolas sat up straighter. "I am so uncomfortable that I want to stand, but…I think my legs would give out. I am so…weary." Her eyes closed and she felt him mentally caress her and draw his hand across her cheek. "Everything hurts."
"I will give you such a massage when you have birthed our child," he whispered. "Focus on that." She tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace as sweat broke out on her forehead. She struggled against the pain and then, clenching her teeth again with her eyes closed, rode it out until it faded just a bit.
"Legolas, this baby is…definitely coming."
His mind went into full-fledged panic mode for a moment before he regained his wits. Laying his hand on her face and squeezing her other hand, he bent over to kiss her forehead. "What can I do?"
She strained out a laugh through her pain. "You need to check on the baby." Oh, please, Lord, let me be ready for this! Let everything be all right! I am so tired…give me the strength!
Legolas released her and ran a reassuring hand down to her knee as he rose to check on the child. It felt good to know that he was right there, right where she needed him. If her contractions were this strong, he knew that he needed to be ready for anything.
"Guin!"
At the sound of her name in such a tone, she startled and then panicked, her heart skipping several beats as her eyes popped open to see his face. "What? What, Legolas?!"
"I can see him!" he exclaimed with wonder. He lifted his face with his eyes shining, one of his hands on her thigh, the other on her knee. Her eyes closed for a moment, preventing her from yelling at him for scaring her so terribly. "I think you can start to push, love," he added. "Are you ready?"
She grimaced, pressure building within her, and he reached forward suddenly to clasp her hand. Her face shown with sweat now and she began to breathe a little more heavily, trying to get ready. "As ready…as I can be…"
"I adore you," he said fervently, his eyes shining with love as his voice broke. You are going to be the most amazing mother! You can do this! You were made to do this, moina quen!
"I love you," she whispered, staring back at him.
"Hold my hand," he whispered back, and she gripped it, her eyes locked on his until the contraction began. Then, she pushed, her every muscle taut, teeth clenched. A moment later there was a break in the contraction, a moment to catch her breath. "You are doing fine…you can do this, moina."
You can do this. Legolas's words echoed in her head over and over. She took a few deep breaths and then lifted her shoulders from the bed, bracing herself on her elbows as she clenched his hand tightly. You can do this, my Guin! She pushed again, this time flexing her neck back and shoving with everything she possibly had to give. Enguina cried out, feeling Legolas squeeze her hand, but that was nothing compared to the pressure inside herself.
"He is coming, Guin! You are doing so well, my love…"
She could not speak to him; she wanted to see what he was seeing, wanted to feel his joy. Another pain, another push, another cry.
"I can see the top of his head!" came Legolas's mystified voice. It was bloody, covered with fluid, but he was beautiful. Guin, he is so gorgeous!
She smiled, breathless. "Just like you," she whispered, her hand still clutching his. She groaned and arched her back and neck again, pushing hard as he coached her through another.
"You can do this! Push; push now, Guin! Good! You are doing so well. Oh heaven, Enguina, I can see his eyebrows…Ilúvatar, he is so beautiful!"
"Who…who does he look like?" she laughed, gasping in his awe. She tilted her head up to see her husband, but he could not look at her, so transfixed by the life he was seeing as it came into the world. He shook his head, unable to answer; Ilúvatar had made him a father, her a mother, them a family. Another push, another cry. Legolas reached down and let the top of the babe's head rest in his hand, his breath stolen away. Babies might be born every day, but not his; he was so moved he could not stop thanking the Lord of Heaven for this little one.
"One more push, my love…one more…and we will see his face…"
Another contraction, and with it Enguina cried out harshly, her nails piercing the sheets and Legolas's hand; she found herself unable to push and instead her hips nearly writhed off the bed. A spasm of pain went through her abdomen and back, but when the contraction stopped, the pain did not. It felt as though pressure was so built up inside her it was fighting to be released.
"L…Legolas…" she panted, and his hand squeezed hers.
"One more, Guin…you can do this…"
"I…I cannot…" she groaned, shifting her hips, desperate to relieve the pain.
Legolas lifted his head, hearing Aragorn's voice from their ride. Once the babe crowns, his head will be birthed in a matter of minutes, no more than a few pushes. You should see the full head for a few minutes; after the shoulders appear, the baby will only take moments, perhaps two or three contractions. The baby, once birthing has begun, should only take minutes to arrive.
Another contraction built in a wave and rolled over her, and she felt as though she might explode from the pressure within her; pain seized her pelvis tightly, wrapping around her lower back. She cried aloud, rocking left and right without control. "Legolas!" she struggled out, tears on her face. "God, it hurts! I cannot push!"
Her nails were knives as they stabbed his hand and he finally lifted his head to see her face. She was white as the pillow beneath her head, every muscle taut in her neck, sweat and tears dripping down her face with the pain in her womb. Her head thrashed as her body told her to push, but she had no choice but to restrain the urge. Legolas, something is wrong!
Legolas looked back down to the babe's head, his face still mostly within her. This was supposed to be fairly easy according to Aragorn…a few minutes, he had said. This was too long, and Enguina's pain was suddenly stabbing him in the chest.
"Guin…hold on," he said, tightening his hand on hers. Something was going wrong, he could feel it in his bones as another painful contraction came and the babe did not move a smidge. He tried to let go of her hand so he could give the babe a small tug, but Enguina could not let him go. She was gasping in pain, groaning his name. With her small gasps of pain, he could do nothing else. He turned his head away from her and yelled with all his might.
"Aragorn!" His voice carried in the silent house, loud enough to echo from the walls.
"What?" she huffed out, fury transforming her features. "Why would you—" Agony threatened to tear her apart as she writhed suddenly on the bed, unable to prevent herself, unable to breathe.
"I think the baby is trapped!" he cried, his voice rising even as he was desperate to control his own panic. Where IS he? "ARAGORN!"
Another second passed and the elf finally heard heavy thumps in the hallway. He turned, calm coming over him in expectation to see his friend enter with every answer, with a ready smile and a firm but easy solution on his lips. Instead, his eyes took in the man's haggard appearance as he limped inside, exhaustion clear in his bowed shoulders, one hand gripping the threshold that supported him. But Legolas could not talk to him about anything that did not concern his wife; he could not spare the thought.
"Something is wrong," he said desperately, his face full of anxiety. "She is in terrible pain!"
"She is in labor," Aragorn replied dryly, but he came as quickly as his body would allow to the side of the bed even as she writhed again, barely noticing that he had entered, crying out in agony. Concerned, Aragorn reached out and laid a hand on her bulging womb, pressing carefully with his fingers, feeling for the child.
It was not Legolas's hand that touched her, and she reacted, knowing full-well whose it was. Fury burned hot through her agony, and she released the bedsheet to battle her weakness and shove his hand away from her skin.
"No! Do not touch me!" Her words were harsh, punishing, and Legolas lifted his head, horrified at them. Aragorn had no response except to snatch her wrist with one hand and continue probing with the other, forcing his injured arm to function again. "You—" she began to snarl but the agony took her words and breath from her again.
Legolas turned his face to Aragorn's, watching him closely as he pressed around with his hand. "Aragorn, what—" Legolas's own voice cut off as the man leaned over her to look at the child's head.
"His shoulder is caught," he stated. "We must work quickly."
To Legolas's amazement, Aragorn's weariness faded into the background and purpose took its place. Aragorn released Enguina's wrist and reached up and touched her sweaty face. "Enguina, the child is trapped; Legolas and I are going to move him."
She was trembling beneath his hand, her exhaustion evident, yet she still had the presence of mind to fight to breathe and glare at him. "Not…not you…"
"There is no time, and no choice," he stated, and he reached over and put a cool rag on her forehead. He knew this was awkward; he did not know what Legolas had told her, but he had to put it aside for a moment. He refused to be uncomfortable, refused to be hurt—there was no time. Her frustration was written all over her face even while in desperate pain; she was still holding a grudge. What had happened could not be erased by the words of Legolas and no explanation.
"Enguina, Legolas is going to need both of his hands in a moment. Take one of mine."
She shook her head, unable to refuse verbally and unwilling to let Legolas go.
"Can you not—" Legolas began, alarmed, but Aragorn's honest sincerity cut off his protest.
"Legolas, you will have to forgive me," he sighed, "for I do not have the strength. And please, we must do this quickly or there may be harm to the child." When no one moved for a moment and Enguina's breathing quickened from another painful contraction, Aragorn reached over her, putting pressure on every injury he had sustained and pried her hand from Legolas and wrapped his around it. Initially resentful but unable to do anything about it, she suddenly gripped him, her groan becoming a wail as her eyes closed and her head fell back again.
Aragorn set out his left arm, looking back to Legolas. "Lift her legs and put them over my arm; she is weak and cannot hold them alone."
"You do not fare much better," he said softly, but he did exactly as he was told, unable to think of how in the world this was going to help her. He took her ankles in his hands and pushed her thighs towards her belly as Aragorn slipped his arm beneath the crooks of her knees. He breathed out, the effort of keeping her legs aloft a struggle for him. "Aragorn, are you certain—"
"Now," he continued, ignoring the elf's protestations and Enguina's heavy, pained breathing, "take your hand, make a fist, and place it above and to the right of her pubic bone." Again, Legolas did as he asked, his other hand now under the child's head, just touching him. The elf's eyes were frightened as he stared into Aragorn's, but the man remained calm, even as Enguina tore into the hand she held. "Push down, with force…not hard, but with force, Legolas…three or four times. If he does not come forward, do it again." He felt Enguina's grip start to get tighter again. "Do it right now."
Even in his fear, Legolas did as Aragorn commanded, his hand pumping over Enguina's womb. It made Enguina even more uncomfortable, the pressure building now from his thumping. Legolas! This is not better! She was terrified that the man was wrong, that he was killing their child, and she released his hand to shove against his shoulder.
"Let go!" came her agonized cry as she tried to squirm out of his grip. He hissed but moved immediately, preventing her as he leaned himself over her and trapped her body beneath him, pinning her to the bed between his right hip and elbow. She did not want him there; she did not trust him one bit; she did not want him telling Legolas what to do!
Legolas tried three or four times, trying to ignore Enguina's squirming. "He has not moved," he forced out, his hands beginning to tremble now in fear.
Aragorn, at least, was calm, even with gritted teeth as Enguina attempted to shove at him. "Take your other hand and slide it inside her beside the infant's head. You need to dislodge his shoulder."
Legolas's eyes were full of incredulity. "Aragorn, I cannot—"
"Do it, Legolas!" Aragorn snapped, his patience finished, sweat beading his brow. The elf met his eyes. "Right now!"
"No! No, let me go!" cried Enguina in agony, her nails digging into Aragorn's back. She could not see over or around him; she could not see her husband. Legolas, please!
Aragorn ignored her, his expression more serious than the grave. "You have no choice. The child is hung up inside her and is not breathing; the pressure is too great, which means he could be dead before she delivers and she could hemorrhage and bleed out. Now, Legolas! NOW!"
He did not shout the last words, but in his effort to continue holding Enguina, he spat them. Legolas's face was as white as the sheet, but the man's order pressured him. He tried to do what Aragorn asked of him immediately, but he could not get more than two fingers past the child's head.
His breathing quickened in frustration. "Ilúvatar! I cannot do it!" He was now in a panic even worse than before. "The child is so tight; I cannot get more than the tips of my fingers, and not enough to reach him!"
"Take my knife."
Enguina screamed incomprehensibly, terrified that Aragorn had lost his mind and could not be trusted. She tried to throw him from her, thrashing, but he held her down even more tightly, burning up whatever strength they both had left.
"What?!" Legolas shouted. "Are you mad?!"
"Take it! You have no choice but to perform the cut so you can get your hand inside!" Aragorn was desperate to remain calm, but if he had to push Legolas to save the child's life he would.
Legolas shook his head so forcefully, listening to Enguina's voice weakly call his name in his head, that he thought it might fall from his shoulders. "I cannot! I cannot do it, Aragorn!"
"Look at me," the man said, his teeth gritted, his body trembling with the pressure of holding her down and her legs up. "Block your ears from her cries, Legolas, and be sensible! You must do as I say. There is no other way! Every moment could mean their death!"
Again, the words made Legolas reach behind him and draw the sheathed dagger, trying desperately to do as the man said.
"If there was another way," the man added, "I would have you do it." Aragorn leaned all of his weight onto Enguina's chest. He glanced back to look into her tight face. "Everything will be all right, Enguina. Try to lie still now and—"
She cried aloud. "Stop! Stop! I do not trust you! No, please, Legolas!"
Her pleas for him to stop were not as convincing as the argument that the babe and Enguina could die. Even as Aragorn whispered promises to her that the baby would be all right, even Legolas could feel the contraction coming. As he cut with the knife, he felt as though he cut his own heart out, so intense was her pain in his head. Her body began to writhe, but Aragorn forced her to be still enough for him to make a clean cut. Legolas lowered the knife.
"Slip your hand inside and turn the child's shoulder," Aragorn said quietly, but urgently. "If you have to, tug out the child's right arm and put pressure under his arm, gently though, and when the contraction comes. Move quickly, Legolas."
Enguina was gasping, her head thrashing against the bed as her trembling hands wrapped in the back of Aragorn's tunic. He turned his head back to her. "Push on this next contraction, Enguina. Push just a little bit." She could not bear to look at him, exhaustion, pain, and derision for him taking hold of her, even while she did not know if she could push anymore.
"I can feel his arm," Legolas said, staring down at the baby as he could feel Enguina's body tensing around him. "God, his hands…! I have it! I have it!"
Enguina cried out, and Aragorn encouraged her again, his voice soothing. "Push, Enguina, push. Push for your baby; bring him into the world. Two more…"
"He is free!" Legolas cried, tears in his voice. "His shoulder is free!"
Legolas's hand and most of the child came free and he slipped his hand under the babe as the child slid toward him. He was unable to draw breath as he looked upon the baby's perfect form—perfect ears, perfect hands, perfect nose, perfect mouth—he loved every bit of the babe and he was not even out yet! But in all that bloody perfection, Enguina was still in pain, her feet trembling as they brushed his shoulders.
A moment later, another powerful contraction came. Aragorn whispered something to her that he did not hear, but Legolas felt her groan in pain and then the baby slipped out into his arms, a wonderful, beautiful mess.
"We…we have a son…" He whispered tearfully, a sob of joy escaping his lips. And then his eyes caught something that stopped his heart.
"Legolas," Aragorn called as the elf's eyes began to widen in panic again and he lowered Enguina's legs as quickly as he could. Softly, he said, "Lay the child flat on the bed and clear his nose and mouth. Put two fingers in the center of his chest and your mouth over his mouth and nose and breath once; then pump gently with your fingers four or five times."
"You…knew?" he asked, even as he got into position.
"Yes," he answered honestly. "But he will be all right. This is normal for a child that was trapped." He tried to push himself upright from Enguina's chest, but nearly fell back down upon her he was so weak. He managed to sit up and straighten, turning back to look into Enguina's sweaty, exhausted face. Reaching out, he wet the rag again and set it back on her forehead.
"A…a son?" she asked weakly, breathlessly, her eyes still closed. "We…have…"
"Yes, a son," he told her gently. "Take it easy; breathe as deeply as you can. The hard part is over. You will have several more contractions, but the full delivery will be over soon. Well done, mother," he continued, stroking her face once, and this time she did not pull away. "Well done."
A little cough was heard, a gasp, a few more little coughs. Aragorn turned his head back to Legolas and watched as his friend scooped the baby from the bed and held his little boy in his arms for the first time and then broke down into tears. The little hands waved, the little feet kicked the air, and Legolas cried, his eyes fixed on the child who was quiet. Legolas could do no more; he needed now to be with Enguina.
"Legolas," Aragorn called softly, "take my place and lay the babe on her chest." Both men rose unsteadily to their feet, Legolas still having eyes only for the child. Aragorn caught his arm before he took the man's place and gave a few final directions to him and a cloth to swaddle the babe. Finally, Legolas pulled his eyes from the babe's face, nodding as he looked down into Enguina's as she strained with another contraction and cramping, gasping with pain, her eyes closed in her fatigue.
"Little one, come and see your mother," he choked out. With one hand, he unbuttoned the front of her tunic and she opened her eyes, watching as he ever-so-gently laid the child upon her breast, skin to skin. Her breathing came in short gasps as he wiped his hands on his own stained tunic, and reached up to stroke the edge of Enguina's soaked hair and forehead.
"Oh Eru," she breathed, "…he is…he is…" She could hardly speak, and as she tried to lift her hand it faltered, dropping back to the mattress. Legolas caught it, and lifted her hand in his, placing it on the child's back. She rubbed her fingers along his slippery skin, but she did not care. Tears poured down her face as well, and Legolas bent forward to kiss all over her face with a feather light touch.
"You are almost done," he whispered to her. "You can rest soon." He laid his hand over hers on the baby's back. The little babe cracked his eyes just the tiniest bit, and Legolas saw the smallest points of green peek out. He stopped breathing again.
"I love you," she said, her voice so tired, "and he is so warm…so perfect." Her teeth began chattering.
Are you all right? He stroked her face, concerned. "Guin—"
A blanket covered her gently from breast down, nearly to her knees to cover her trembling form. Legolas looked up to Aragorn leaning near her knees as Enguina's eyes closed gratefully. The man said nothing, so Legolas focused on Enguina once again; there would be time to talk later.
"I am so proud of you," he whispered. "You worked so hard."
"You…thank you," she replied, swallowing hard. "You are the reason I made it." Another contraction took her and she tilted her head back against the pillow, her breath squeaking out of her throat, wracked by the pain. He took her other hand and held it tight.
I am right here, moina quen.
"I…I know," she whispered, her eyelids fluttering. He took one hand and laid it over her belly, gently rubbing it back and forth. She winced. "That…hurts."
"I know," he murmured honestly, "but it will help your body."
She cracked an eye and raised a brow. "How…do you know that?"
"I listen to the man," he replied honestly, and her chin moved as she nodded slightly. "You did so well," he continued. "You were so strong, my love, so brave." She ran her fingertips along the baby's head, then neck and shoulders. The baby opened his eyes, blinking as he tried to look at her face.
Tears flowed again as she looked into his face. "My little boy," she whispered, loving him. Legolas released her hands and laid a hand on her face again. The baby's mouth moved and his fingers were curling and uncurling against her breast. "Oh, how we love you…mommy and daddy love you…"
"Is he hungry already?" Legolas asked, watching his mouth.
"Not…not yet," Enguina whispered, and Legolas reached over to adjust the pillow so that she could watch the child and rest her head at the same time. He leaned down to kiss her again, brushing his nose against hers as his hand made its way back to rubbing her belly.
"Why not close your eyes for a few minutes?" he asked as she winced again, her teeth still chattering. "You two are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on. Ilúvatar has blessed me immeasurably."
Aragorn, down below, barely listened to what they were saying to one another. Enguina was still bleeding; though that was natural he needed to be sure, and even though Legolas had made the cut the least way he could he also needed to close that. He had no doubt that Enguina would not take kindly to him being where he was right now and he barely could stand up straight in his own exhaustion, but there was no one else to take care of her. Legolas needed to be with her and the babe; Hildanir was keeping watch outside for Mennev; he was it.
Reaching through the slick skins, Aragorn located the bleeding rather easily. It was just inside her, tearing from the child's trapped shoulders and from pressing against her so roughly. Taking a thin towel, he worked to slow the bleeding in both places, careful to move gently so as to go unnoticed. After the delivery of the placenta and Enguina's official labor coming to an end, he began to carefully stitch the wounds closed. Her contractions would continue a bit longer, but they would be much less painful to her, and he could still see Legolas rubbing her belly as he had stated—this would help with fluids and cramping from the child. The healing process would clearly take more time; her exhaustion would follow the amount of blood she had lost.
The stitching, at least, went easily. Legolas had done a neat job and the inside tear was not difficult to repair; as long as she was careful, the cuts would heal within a few days. The other task he took upon himself was the necessary cleaning. He sponged the birthing fluids and blood from her body and removed the animal skins that Legolas had so deftly prepared in the event of the child's birth here. A comfortably-placed towel would catch any extra blood flow for now until she was comfortable and rested enough to dress. He would want to check on her later to be sure, but he could say for the moment that it was time for Legolas and family to have some well-deserved peace.
He straightened, and immediately needed to catch himself on her knee before he nearly collapsed, his vision swimming. Finally regaining his balance, he wiped his hands on another towel, and then he removed the stained bed clothes and skins and tossed them into a basin in the bath, leaving them to soak. As he cleaned his hands, he had no thoughts at all to spare for the clothes tonight. What time was it? He had no idea. It did not matter. Thank Ilúvatar that she is well and their little boy is here and safe! He blinked back tears. A son! Thank you so, Ilúvatar, for blessing them with such a little miracle.
He made his way slowly back to the room where Arwen was lying, so grateful that all were safe. Yes, he had needed to push Legolas a bit, but the elf had been decisive when necessary. Aragorn was very relieved, not only that all were safe, but that he could return to his beloved and not leave her side again.
