Chapter Seven

Pamela rushed into the emergency room, finding Ayla sitting out in the hallway, pale and despondent. Stacy was sitting next to her with her arm around her shoulders. Ayla was wearing a blue dress with a large and obvious blood stain on her lap. She had accepted Stacy's invitation to a day of shopping, going into little boutiques and getting ideas for how to decorate the nursery when Ayla was overcome with a sharp pain in her abdomen. She felt warm liquid running down her legs and when she looked down it was to her horror to see blood pooling at her feet. Stacy took her to the nearest hospital and while the doctors were attending to Ayla she had called Pamela in a panic.

"Ayla's in trouble!" Stacy had said over the phone. "Something's wrong with her baby!"

That was enough for Pamela to drop everything and rush out to meet them. When she approached them Pamela dropped down to her knees in front of Ayla, seeing her eyes were red and puffy from crying.

"What did the doctors say? Is everything all right?" Pamela asked, already touching Ayla's face and checking her over with a critical eye. "Ayla, honey, please speak to me. What's happened?"

Ayla couldn't say it, just breaking down into a new fit of sobs as she leaned forward and cried into Pamela's shoulder. Stacy had silent tears falling down her face as she rubbed Ayla's back. Ayla's tears were answer enough for Pamela as she hugged her best friend, not knowing what else to do to comfort her. It didn't go unnoticed that Ayla's husband wasn't around.

xxxxx

(Present)

Kwenthrith was able to confirm Ayla's suspicions that she was in fact pregnant, and Ayla was sitting quietly, trying her hardest not to have a panic attack. Kwenthrith was quite understanding of Ayla's fear and reservations, having been told about her previous pregnancies and how they all ended with miscarriages. It was clear that Ayla feared the same thing will happen again, convinced that she was not meant to ever have children. Kwenthrith reached over and placed her hand reassuringly on Ayla's, feeling that they have gone cold. "Ayla, perhaps this is a sign of a new beginning for you. You told me how unhappy you were in your previous relationship, you cannot make the same claim with Lord Thranduil, could you?"

"No…you're right. It's just…" Ayla let out a sigh, not knowing what to do or feel. "What if it happens again? What if my body just can't carry a baby to full term? What if I'm just broken?"

"You are not broken, Ayla. Lord Thranduil clearly loves you deeply, and will continue to feel that way no matter what."

Ayla looked at Kwenthrith, her throat tight with emotion. The pessimist in her wanted to argue that a miscarriage always changes the dynamic of every relationship. But maybe this time will be different. She could only hold onto the hope of that being true. Now she just needs to tell Thranduil the news.

xxxxx

Ayla had all day to prepare herself to tell Thranduil the news and waited until dinner to tell him. He had been surprisingly busy today. She had heard that a dwarven envoy had arrived today from Erebor. As their dinner was served Ayla covered the top of her wine glass with her hand to prevent the servant from pouring her wine.

"Just water for me, thank you." Ayla said.

"Are you feeling unwell?" Thranduil asked, "I have noticed that you have been sleeping more these past few weeks."

Ayla nodded her head once, looking at him with a reassuring smile. "I have been pretty tired, but it's not because I'm sick. I actually found out today why I've been so exhausted and a little moody. It's because, um…well…" Fuck, why was this always so hard? "It's because…" Just breathes. "I'm pregnant."

Ayla felt anxiety rising up in her, making her stomach churn uncomfortably as she watched Thranduil stare at her with a blank expression. He then stood and went to her side, pulling her chair back before dropping down to his knees in front of her and placing a hand on her lower abdomen. Ayla's heart was racing in her chest as she placed both her hands over his on her stomach, still waiting for him to speak.

"Mui mel," he spoke, his voice soft as he looked up at Ayla with a smile that made her melt. He was more beautiful when he smiled like that, showing minor creases around his eyes and mouth, evidence that he used to smile and laugh a lot. "This is wonderful news."

She felt tears sting her eyes as she let out a relieved laugh and bent forward to kiss him. Her heart felt like it was going to burst with happiness.

"I love you." she said, finally saying it, fully opening her heart to him.

"And I you, mui mel. My heart." he said, kissing her again.

xxxxx

(Past)

Ayla was lying on her side, facing away from the door in her hospital room. An I.V. was hooked up, feeding her fluids and antibiotics after going through delivering her stillborn. She lost another baby. Two miscarriages and now a stillbirth, and this one hurt the most because she had managed to reach her second trimester and had only been a week away from find out the gender at her next doctor's appointment. She wanted to be a mother; she was ready to be a mother. She would have given all her love to her baby and avoided all the mistakes that her own mother had done to her.

She touched her belly, still round but now empty of life. In a few weeks it will shrink down and be as if there hadn't been a baby. It had been twelve hours now since it happened and her husband was still absent from her side. Pamela and Stacy had both called Greg and both left voice mails. Ayla had called and texted her husband multiple times before and after her surgery and still she hadn't heard from him. In an act of desperation Ayla picked up her phone and called the last person she wanted to speak to: her mother.

It rang a few times before her mother picked up.

"Hello?" came a groggy voice that was all too familiar.

She hesitated before speaking. "Hi mom." Ayla said, her voice scratchy from crying.

"Ayla? Have you any idea what time it is?"

"I know, I'm sorry to wake you but I just…I just wanted to tell you…"

"What's the matter? Did something happen?"

Ayla immediately broke down, sobbing and trying to get a hold of herself. "I lost the baby!" she said between sobs.

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. And where is your husband?"

"I don't know. He's not returning my calls or texts." Ayla sniffed, feeling raw and vulnerable and very alone.

"He's going to be so disappointed to know you lost another baby." A coldness suddenly settled over Ayla at those words, her tears halting as anger began to well up inside her. "Oh, Ayla, as terrible as this is you should have taken better care of yourself. You're a doctor; you should know all of this."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? You're actually blaming me for this?"

"Well it's the woman's job to make sure she can have a healthy baby and let's face it, sweetheart, you have rather bad habits. I'm surprised Greg hasn't taken my advice on managing your schedule to make sure this didn't happen again, especially after the last two miscarriages."

"Unbelievable. I can't believe I even called you hoping that you would, for once, be a mother and not this condescending bitch."

"I am being a mother, Ayla. It's my duty to tell you what you're doing wrong so that you will correct it. It's not my fault that you have always been so willful and spiteful towards me."

"Goodbye, mother." Ayla then hung up. She wanted to call Stella, her step-mother, but Stella had died two years prior from a horseback riding accident. She didn't want to bother Pam or Stacy, both had been with her for hours and after she gave birth to her stillborn she told them to go home. She couldn't bare to look at them and only see pity. Becky and Amber had obviously been told of what happened because she had received texts from them both with their heartfelt condolences. But the one person she needed the most was her husband Greg.

Where was he? Was he all right? Why wasn't he replying back to her?

Did he even care?

She tried calling him again, the phone ringing until it reached his voicemail. "Greg, call me back. It's important." she said before hanging up.

xxxxx

After another check by the doctor, Ayla was released from the hospital. Pamela picked her up from the hospital and drove her home since Greg failed to answer his phone again. The car ride was silent, the mood still somber. Once they were at her house Pamela walked Ayla to the door, wanting to make sure Ayla was settled before leaving her side again. When they entered they both paused when they heard loud moaning coming from further in the house.

Both women followed the sound to the kitchen and there, on the breakfast table, was Ayla's half-sister, naked on the table, lying on her back with her legs spread open. And between her legs was her husband, fucking her with his mouth.

"Well, now we know why he wasn't answering his phone." Pamela said, surprising the lovers. Charlotte screamed in surprise, sitting up quickly and trying to cover herself with her hands while Greg looked stunned and at a loss for words as panic was written all over his face.

Ayla was furious, grabbing the nearest item (a crystal duck) and threw it as hard as she could at Greg's head. He ducked out of the way and the crystal duck smashed against the wall behind him. Charlotte screamed again, running along the wall and cowering in the corner.

"Baby! I'm sorry!" Greg began.

"You cheating asshole!" Ayla screamed, "You were home this whole time while I was in the hospital?!"

"What? Why were you in the hospital?" Greg asked, "Did something happen to the baby?"

"Of course something happened! If you had been a good husband and answered your fucking phone you would have known that our baby died!" Ayla screamed, approaching Greg only to slap him across the face and beat his chest in fury. "But you were here! Fucking my sister of all people! On our table!"

"Ayla, wait—"

Ayla stop!" came Charlotte's voice from behind, grabbing one of Ayla's arms to try and help Greg, only for Ayla to turn swiftly around and punch Charlotte right in the nose, feeling a crunch and seeing blood gush from her nose.

"No! Get out! GET OUT! Both of you get out of my house! I never want to see you again! You're dead to me! GET OUT!" she screamed before clutching her stomach in pain.

"Babe, are you okay?" Greg asked, reaching out for her but Pamela had rushed forward and shoved him back.

"You heard her! Get out, pig! Both of you!" Pamela yelled as she wrapped her arms around Ayla's shoulders and helped her up.

"I'm not leaving! This is my house, too!" Greg said firmly.

"Get out!" Ayla screeched before cringing in pain again and letting out a broken hearted sob. "Just leave."

xxxxx

(Present)

"After that I had the locks to my house changed. My divorce was quick, thanks to Stacy, and I never saw them again." Ayla said, finishing her traumatic tale of her last pregnancy and how her marriage really ended. "The whole ordeal left me pretty scarred. I had trust issues and I just stopped caring about myself and other people."

Thranduil had sat and listened quietly, holding her hand in his. "You have suffered enough, I believe." he said, bring her hand up to his lips and kissed the smooth skin. He looked into her brown eyes, seeing them glassy from the painful memory. "You have my word, mui mel, that I will stand by you no matter what. Your fears are valid but unlike your ex-husband, I have no such need to stray to another when I have you."

Ayla let out a short laugh and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it, especially since my aim has gotten better with throwing miscellaneous objects."

Thranduil chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

"We should tell Legolas, too." Ayla said.

"We will, but not right now." Thranduil said as he turned on the sofa they were sitting on and pulled Ayla up. She smiled, swinging one leg over his lap to straddle him. "Right now I wish to give you much needed praise."

Giggling, Ayla caressed the sides of his face with her hands and kissed him on his perfect lips. "I like that idea."

Thranduil gripped her hips, pulling her closer to him as he claimed her lips with his. Ayla wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. It felt almost too good to be true. To be so deeply in love and to be loved in return with equal capacity. To be loved by someone who is so beautiful and (let's be honest) out of her league. Two completely different people who had quite a lot in common, to list a few: they're both stubborn, often selfish, and straight forward.

She had to wonder if it was fate.

xxxxx

When they told Legolas the news that he will soon have a sibling, he was overjoyed by it. Already resting his cheek against Ayla's stomach and telling his sibling all the things he will teach them. It was cute, and Ayla enjoyed the excitement that lit Legolas' eyes. It was hard not to feel excited, too, thinking how this time might be different. This time she might actually have a turn of birthing life in this new world. Maybe this was all meant to be.

This time it will be different.

This time she is truly happy.

xxxxx

Walking through the market street in Dale, Ayla was standing in front of a stall that sold herbs that grew in remote parts of Middle Earth. She recognized many of them for their medicinal purposes, smelling some of the dried herbs, strangely finding the smells enticing instead of too pungent or sharp. Her pregnancy made her sensitive to many smells, but what was strange was that she craved the medicinal smell, especially the smell of menthol. She also craved peppermint candies but she could live without it.

Placing a few bushels of herbs she would need into her basket she reached for her coin purse to pay the merchant.

"For you, Lady Healer, you may have for free." said the merchant.

"That's very kind of you, but I can't take these things without paying for them." Ayla said, handing the coin to the merchant. "Besides, I know you must have gone through a lot to get some of these herbs."

"Thank you, my Lady, you are most generous."

Ayla continued through the market, her elven guards a familiar sight for the people of Dale, letting the glorious city know that their Mother of Mercy was present. A House of Healing had been built in the city near its center where the sick and injured were looked after. Ayla visited as often as she could, teaching aspiring healers the essential basics that were key to keeping their patients healthy. A visit from the Mother of Mercy meant a horde of people will fill the rooms and halls of the House of Healing with people coming in for mundane ailments that were nothing.

"My Lady, shall we escort you out of the city?" asked her guard.

"No, this is just going to take awhile." Ayla said with a sigh as she ascended the steps, squeezing past the throng of waiting patients. Pregnancy fatigued her faster than usual, and because of her precious little passenger Thranduil had been resistant in letting her leave the Woodland Realm. Letting him hand-pick the guards had been their compromise so long as Ayla took no longer than three days to return. A tight time-frame when it took nearly half a day to and from Dale, not to mention she had plans to visit Erebor and check in on Valka and see how her pregnancy was faring. She should be about ready to pop. Plus Valka was one of Ayla's few female friends she had.

After a few hours of attending to patients Ayla was beginning to get too tired to focus and could only think about lying down and falling asleep. She will have to plan a visit to Erebor another time. After a night of rest Ayla journeyed back to Greenwood with her guards, a little disappointed that she didn't get to do all the things she wanted to do but when her lover was stubborn and would more than likely raze the city if she didn't keep her end of their compromise.

xxxxx

Travelling the familiar path Ayla had a sudden eerie feeling come over her. Sure, the woods had its eerie charm of limited sunlight and trees that were so close together that it felt claustrophobic, but there was something else. It was far too quiet. It was obvious that her guards had noticed the same thing, closing ranks as to keep her covered from all angles. Subconsciously Ayla touched her lower belly, trying to find comfort in the slight swell that had began to grow there. She was currently out of danger of a miscarriage, but it still didn't quell the fear of having another stillbirth.

She was lost in her musings and worry when suddenly an arrow flew past her head and buried itself into the guard behind her. Suddenly everything was thrown into a chaotic vortex as orcs ambushed them. One of her guards blew their horn to send out a warning signal before being cut down by an orc. Flooded with fear, Ayla turned to flee but was caught before she could even attempt it.

She let out a scream.

xxxxx

(Past)

Ayla didn't allow herself to mope around, needing a distraction to keep busy. It was her first years as a practicing physician and already she was spiraling out of control. Was this her mid-life crisis? She had lost so much already; her father, her step-mother, two miscarriages and stillborn, in the process of a divorce, and had severed all ties to her remaining family. It was leading her down a dark path of self-loathing. She got married too fast to a cheating bastard. They got started too soon on a family that caused a lot of stress and pressure when they had no money (to be correct Ayla had no money whereas Greg came from a family with money). She was just getting started in a career that required all of her attention.

Her performance was suffering for it.

It was then that she vowed to never let herself open up again. The pain wasn't worth it. She became withdrawn and more clinical with her patients, to the point where she was almost robotic and cold. She had been scolded multiple times by senior residents for her lack of empathy. She could easily have played the victim card, explain to them her woes and gain sympathy from her peers, but why bother? She didn't want pity. She just wanted to be numb.

The pain of her loss eventually faded with time, and after completing her surgical residency Ayla had become a full-fledged surgeon. She never got over her pain, simply burying it deep down, and simply went on with her life, pretending like everything was okay. Eventually it became real, but some nights Ayla would lie awake at night and think about how unlucky she was.

xxxxx

(Present)

Thranduil rode out immediately with his army, fully clad in battle armor and heading straight for Dol Guldor. Upon being told that Ayla's company had been attacked by orcs Thranduil sent out scouts to find their location and to find Ayla. It had been agony for him, waiting for word as to her and her captors' whereabouts, his mind reeling with horrible scenarios playing over and over in his head. He worried for Ayla and their child's safety, his only concern was finding them unharmed. Once he learned where she had been taken he ordered his army to march onto the dark fortress.

I am on my way, Ayla!

xxxxx

Locked in a cage, Ayla sat curled up against the furthest bars. The orcs had killed all her guards and had taken her to Dol Guldor. They were definitely planning something and whatever it was they obviously wanted her for a reason, and that terrified her. She needed to escape, she was not going to let anything happen to her baby. She will see Thranduil and Legolas again. She will get out of this.

She watched and observed her captors. She quietly eyed her cage, looking for a possible weak spot, carefully testing each bar by slowly pushing with her legs. She found one bar was loose, loose enough to jostle and with some force she was sure she could force it free and maybe squeeze out. She just needed to make sure she didn't get caught.

As night fell the air grew colder. The orcs lit fires to light the area they were camping in. Ayla shivered as a cold wind blew through the bars of her cage, but it carried the sound of a familiar horn. Alerted to the incoming battle that would be upon them the orcs are rallied, picking up their arms running out to fight the elves. Ayla was then forgotten, giving her the opportunity she needed to make her escape. Bracing up against her cage she kicked out with all of her might at the weak bar, seeing it coming loose she kicked it several more times before it finally broke off. Eagerly she squeezed through the space, her clothes catching on the rough edges but she was close to freedom. Her feet stumbled on the uneven flagstones but that didn't deter her from running like her ass was on fire.

Out of range from the dim firelight, Ayla had to keep close to the wall, her vision poor in the dark. She could hear the sound of battle bouncing off the stone walls around her. In the dark, she felt like one of those people in a horror film and was just waiting for the monster to come around the corner. No! Don't think like that! Not right now! She turned down a corner, losing her footing as she realized there were stairs there. It was a good thing she didn't take an unplanned tumble down these jagged steps that would have been painful (and embarrassing). Still hugging the wall she descended the stairs, the sound of battle growing louder and…

"…Ayla!.."

She could hear someone calling her name in the distant. Thranduil? Her heart was pounding away in her chest. He was nearby. He came for her. She felt relief climbing its way to the surface, repelling the fear that had covered her. Now at the bottom of the stairs Ayla could see an exit and began to sprint towards it and was then out in the open where the elves and orcs were fighting. She searched for Thranduil, unable to see him and then called out his name.

"Ayla!" she turned to see the Elvenking cut down an orc, knowing he saw her in the dark with his perfect vision. Ayla could barely see him but she knew without a doubt that it was Thranduil. She made to go to him, to be in his safe embrace when suddenly she grabbed from behind. Ayla let out a scream when she saw it was the leader of this orc rabble, snarling down at her and then suddenly there was a sharp, white hot pain in her lower abdomen. All noise seem to fall away into the background as Ayla looked down to see that she had been stabbed, the deep red of her blood staining her front. The orc pulled the knife out and Ayla watched, the movement slow as if time was slowing down at that moment.

She fell to her knees, her hands clutching at her gushing wound.

Thranduil was fueled with rage towards the fiend, sprinting at the orc like a madman, screaming in his rage as he raised his sword and swiftly cleaved his head clean off. He turned to Ayla, dropping to his knees and pulling her into his arms. She coughed up blood, her hands still clutching her bleeding wound and he placed his gloved hand over hers. He felt the sting of tears in his eyes as he held her close, despair gripping his heart as he feared of losing her. The battle around them was quieting down as the last of the orcs were slain.

"Do not let your light go out, mui mel." Thranduil said, lifting her into his arms before standing up. He called an order to make sure there were no orc survivors as he carried Ayla to his steed, intent on returning her home where Kwenthrith and their healers can tend to Ayla.

xxxxx

It still hurt. Even when it wasn't her fault it still hurt. The loss. The emptiness. It felt like her heart had been skewered by the same blade that had pierced her womb. She was back in that darkness, back in that spiraling abyss of anger and sorrow. But this was different. This time she wasn't alone. This time she had Thranduil, who comforted her, who felt her loss as his. After returning from Dol Guldor, Thranduil had Kwenthrith waiting for their arrival. Kwenthrith was fast in cutting away Ayla's coat and blouse to see the wound properly, finding that it had already healed over on its own with the remains of an angry red line where the dagger had gone in. The elven woman knew of Ayla's ability to heal and come back from death and so was not surprised to see her already on the mends, but the location of where the wound had been…and the blood staining her leggings between her legs.

Kwenthrith knew.

She helped Ayla bathe and change into a clean nightgown before assisting her into bed. Ayla had been quiet the entire time, obviously in shock. She left Ayla in Thranduil's care for the night, knowing he would call for her if he needed anything.

Thranduil had also bathed and changed into clean clothes, a pair of loose trousers and a white silk shirt. He quietly joined Ayla in her bed, gently pulling her into his embrace and holding her close. He understood her silence, understood her pain for he, too, had lost his unborn child this very night. All he knew was that his heart was hurting and he would give whatever comfort and support he could until she healed.

xxxxx

Time eventually healed the wound on their hearts and life went on quietly. Ayla had not set foot outside the gates for several years, a part of her still scarred by what happened last time. To this day she still had no idea why the orcs attacked and chose to take her alive to Dol Guldor only to attempt to kill her there. It was a question she didn't like to dwell on.

"Ow!"

Ayla focused on her current task, which was picking needle thorns out of her adopted son. "Sit still, you're making my job harder by moving."

"But it hurts." Legolas whined, wincing when Ayla plucked out another thorn from his back. Legolas was getting older and now was in his rebellious teens and getting into all sorts of trouble. Ayla thought of it as simply him trying to impress a certain red-haired girl.

"Falling into a needle bush will hurt. You're lucky none of them touched your face or eyes." Ayla said, plucking out more thorns. The ones in his right flank were lodged in deep, making it hard for her to remove them without pinching his skin with the tweezers. "Hmm, we might have to soak these out."

"What do you mean?" Legolas asked as Ayla stood up and walked over to one of the attending servants, requesting a bath be drawn for the prince. Ayla then returned to her seat behind Legolas, picking up her tweezers and continued to pluck at the thorns she could remove. The poor prince winced again, gritting his teeth and balling his hands into tight fists on his knees.

"How goes the progress?" Thranduil asked as he entered the room, much to his son's dismay at the embarrassing situation, half naked and covered in needle thorns.

"Well enough considering your son is lucky to not have lost his sight." Ayla said, still plucking away at the thorns she could reach.

"Lucky indeed. Perhaps this will show you not to act recklessly in the future." Thranduil said, looking down at his son who refused to meet his gaze. Thranduil then looked to Ayla who was focused on the painstaking work of plucking out every single thorn she could from his son's fair skin, leaving red dots in their wake. Beside her was a small bowl, almost full with needle thorns that had been extracted. Ayla had been working for over an hour since Legolas returned in his humiliating condition.

"I think I've got all the ones that I could and after your soak in the bath I should be able to get to the rest of them a little easier." Ayla said, setting the tweezers down and standing up with a tired sigh. Legolas stood up a little gingerly and walked equally as careful, heading to his room to sit in the bath as instructed.

Thranduil turned fully to Ayla, caressing her cheek with the back of his knuckles. She leaned into his touch, smiling up at him. "A message arrived today from Gondor, requesting the Lady Healer to help with a deadly fever outbreak within their capitol."

"Gondor? That's practically a world away. More than likely by the time I get there it might be at the end stage of dying out." Ayla said, thinking how it would be at least a month on horseback.

"Shall I send back word that you are unavailable?"

"No, I'll go, but…" Ayla lowered her gaze, unable to say that she was apprehensive to leave the safety of the Woodland Realm. A part of her afraid of being taken by surprise again by unsavory folk.

He brushed away the loose strands of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear and letting his fingers graze against her cheek. "It's been ten years, mui mel, and as much as I enjoy you being near it pains me to see you have become a wilted flower in the shade. I believe this may help you."

Ayla let out a slow breath. "Taking a big leap of faith just for me. I have to say I'm flattered." she said, looking up at him with a small smile. "I love you. Since coming to Middle Earth all those years ago you're probably the best thing that has ever come into my life."

He raised a brow at her. "Probably? I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not."

Her smile grew into a grin. "Well, Legolas has been quite the charmer since day one."

"Hmm, I suppose exiling my only son out of jealousy would not reflect well on my character."

Ayla giggled and raised up on her toes to kiss his smirking lips. "You're the king; you can do as you please."

"You're right, I am the king." Thranduil said, grabbing Ayla and lifting her up. Her legs wrapped around his hips on instinct. Laughing, Ayla lowered her head down to kiss him, always enjoying these moments with him when he was feeling spontaneous.

She truly loved this man.