Chapter Ten
Thorin had a smile on his face as he watched Ayla entertain his nephews with stories of her travels. Nearly a month had passed since Ayla arrived, and already his two nephews adored her, preferring her company over his. Like the spoiled children they are, they cried and fussed whenever Thorin interrupted their time with Ayla whom Dis had named their godmother, and the boys took it to heart. Seeing Ayla smile at his nephews pulled at his heart as he would then remember what she had told him that first night he entered her room, how her own child had died inside her womb. He simply couldn't fathom the agony she had suffered and he admired her strength to live on and smile once more.
"Tell us another story!" Fili said right before yawning widely.
"I think it's time for bed instead." Ayla said.
"Nooo! Another story!" Fili insisted while his brother Kili yawned widely and fell backwards, falling asleep immediately.
"There will be plenty of times for stories tomorrow." Dis said, stepping past her brother and picking up Kili from the floor. She took Fili's hand with her free hand and led the way to their shared bedroom.
"Good night," Ayla said after them.
"G'night, auntie." Fili said over his shoulder.
With a smile Ayla stood up and turned towards the door to leave, stopping when she saw Thorin leaning against the wall, watching her.
"I'll be heading back to my room. Good night, Thorin." Ayla said, heading towards the exit.
"I'll walk with you." Thorin said and Ayla nodded, knowing he would just be stubborn if she declined. It was a short walk to her suite, and they were both quiet as they reached her door. As she opened the door to go inside for the night Thorin reached out and took her hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "When I see you with my nephews it warms my heart. They love you like a second mother and you treat them like they are your blood."
"Thorin, don't. It's late and I'm tired." Ayla said, having a suspicion as to where this conversation was going as she pulled her hand from his. She reached for the door and opened it, stepping inside her room. Thorin caught the door and followed, closing it shut behind him.
"You know how I feel and what I want, and I understand why you hesitate but there is nothing standing between us now. You are free to be with someone. You are free to be with me." Thorin said.
Ayla rolled her eyes as she walked away further into her suite, going into the walk-in closet to change into her nightgown. She was tired of this conversation, and Thorin was as hard-headed as ever. She knew he wanted to make things official and have them be a couple but she had trouble with that idea. Yes, she was attracted to Thorin, he was still that sexy, brooding man that made her think of very kinky fantasies, and yes, she still thought of that night together with him that made her ache between her legs. It was true that she was a free woman, but her heart was still healing and she was having trouble letting go of Thranduil. Their relationship spanned nearly a thousand years and she still loved him despite the way things had ended (ended by her leaving in the middle of the night without so much as a note).
She wasn't ready and she felt like she might never be ready to move on.
When she came out of the closet, dressed in her nightgown, she found Thorin had not left and instead had taken off his jacket and sat at the foot of her bed, waiting for her. "I know I am being selfish with you, but I need to know: will you ever accept me in your heart?"
Ayla walked over to the bed and sat down beside Thorin, having a sense of déjà vu from her first night. "You hold a special place in my heart, Thorin, you always have, but I'm too damaged to be happy with you."
Her words stung but Thorin was determined as he stood up and faced her. "You can be happy with me if you would just give me a chance. Open your heart again, Ayla, and let me in."
Shit, this was getting old. She actually wanted to say "Yeah, okay, let's do it your way and I'll pretend that I've moved on from a certain Elvenking who will not be named." just to make him stop talking about "them" when there wasn't even a "them" yet. What could she say that will both placate him and also make him give her space?
"I will think about it. Now please get out."
xxxxx
Weeks rolled by and Ayla felt the need to be more productive while she stayed in the Blue Mountains. Avoiding and minimizing her encounters with Thorin were a lot easier than Ayla thought, but when she did it was easy to evade him. Ayla was actually considering Thorin's offer of moving on, but she didn't know how and she didn't want to make Thorin a rebound. So instead of torturing herself over the thought, she made herself busy by taking over of the infirmary (of course dwarves were rather stubborn to admit that they were sick until they were on the verge of death). She needed to start with the basics.
Ayla wandered through the impressive library, her fingers skimming over the spines of books. All were written in the dwarven tongue, of which Ayla had learned to read centuries ago, though her translation still needed work. Their language always felt heavy on her tongue versus the Sindarin language that flowed off the tongue like water. She noticed that there were hardly any medical books and the ones that were present were, in her opinion, poorly written with no pictures. She figured she could rewrite her medical volumes in the dwarven language since her original books were back in the Woodland Realm where she doubted she would ever set foot in again.
She took the few books on medicine that she could find and set to work in going through them, editing every single page. She made a mental note to get a freshly bound book made so she can start logging everything again. Hours went by and consumed by her new project she didn't notice Thorin walking towards her. Thorin stopped at the edge of an aisle of stone shelves, admiring Ayla's beauty when she was concentrating. Her hair had been pulled and twisted into a bun and held in place by a plain silver hair pin, loose tendrils of hair hanging around her neck and the sides of her face. The dress she wore had been tailored to her size; something his sister had done, always having a knack for sewing. It was dyed a deep blue like the ocean, with a modest neckline that showed off just enough skin below her collarbone. The sleeves reached to her elbows and her skirt came to her ankles.
At first glance she was dressed rather plainly, but to Thorin it was merely a blank canvas for when he will decorate her with jewels and gold fit for a queen. His queen. If only she would say yes. He approached her, clearing his throat to make his presence known, but Ayla remained focused on defiling his people's books by writing on the pages. He went to her side, brushing back the few stray tendrils of her silky hair and brushing her bare neck with the back of his knuckles. His touch startled her and her quill streaked a line of black ink across the page she had been working on as she sharply looked up at him. He couldn't help but chuckle at the surprised look on her face.
"Thorin! You scared me half to death!" Ayla exclaimed.
"Well, then your other half should live a bit more." Thorin teased, boldly stroking the length of her neck with the back of his knuckles, pleased to her shiver before leaning back against the edge of the table beside her. "So tell me why you are defiling my books."
Ayla set the quill down and looked up at him, giving him a teasing glimpse of her cleavage. "The medical books you have are seriously outdated. I'm planning on writing more modern books on medicine and medical practice, you know, something that will withstand time."
He smiled at her. "It pleases me to see that you're hard at work to help my people." he said, "It's a good quality that my future wife should have."
Ayla rolled her eyes, "Oh for fuck's sake. We're not having this conversation again, Thorin." she said, bracing her hands on the table to push her chair back. Thorin pushed her roughly back in her seat as he slid in front of her, half-sitting on the table. "Hey! What are you—?!" Ayla was cut off when Thorin had gripped the back of her head with his large hand and pulled her forward, his lips on hers cutting her off mid-sentence.
Her eyes fluttered closed at the kiss, Thorin's lips warm and demanding against hers. It was a kiss that enthralled her, letting her melt into it as she felt his tongue invade her mouth and she allowed it. Her hands went up his thighs, feeling the toned, strong muscles beneath the thick fabric of his fine wool trousers. When they parted from their kiss, Ayla looked up into Thorin's eyes, seeing them glazed with lust and want and Ayla was sure that her eyes reflected the same desires. Desires that she needed to resist. Desires that she's been ignoring for too long.
She had needs that needed to be satisfied.
Thorin cupped her face with his free hand, his eyes going to her lips that were now a darker shade of pink after their kiss. He lowered his head and kissed her again, gentler this time, savoring the sensation of how soft her lips were against his, how her natural scent reminded him of the crisp mountain air and spring flowers. Her skin was smooth and warm beneath his callused fingers, and her hair was like silk. He pulled out the silver hair pin and buried his fingers into the dark curtain of silky hair. He felt her hands slide up from his thighs and over his stomach and up his chest, going higher to rest behind his neck to pull him closer, deepening the kiss.
Thorin broke away from the kiss as he pulled Ayla up from her chair and spun them around, pushing her down on the table's surface and moved to stand between her legs as he kissed and sucked on the skin of her neck. Ayla let out a moan, hugging his shoulders and raking her fingers through his thick hair on his head. He cupped and massaged one of her breasts, familiarizing himself with their soft fullness in his hand, his thumbing rubbing over her nipple through her clothing, hardening it into a firm peak. His other hand was resting on her hip, massaging the flesh in his hand while he pressed his hardening cock against her heated mound.
"Ah! Thorin!" she gasped, the sound of her voice so sweet in his ears, driving him wild.
Thorin couldn't hold back as he hastily loosened his belt and lowered his trousers while he watched as Ayla pulled up her skirt. He was rock hard now, and Ayla was now able to see his cock in all its glory. She had been right to think that he was well endowed for a dwarf; if he were human he'd be considered slightly above average. And she was more than all right with that as she looked Thorin in the eye and grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, their lips crashing into each other as Thorin guided himself to her entrance and pushed in. Both let out an audible moan into each other's mouths.
"Start moving." Ayla breathed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Thorin complied, pulling back to the head and then slowly pushing back in, repeating the slow, agonizing pace over and over again. Ayla rolled her head back, exposing her neck to him which he graciously accepted, laving at the skin with the flat of his tongue and then scraping at the flesh with his teeth.
Ayla wrapped her legs around his hips, hooking her ankles together to pull him deeper inside her. Thorin unhooked her ankles from his back and pulled her up and turned her around, pushing her over the table and yanking her skirt up. Ayla bent her knees to lower her hips down and bit down on her bottom lip as she felt Thorin enter her from behind, thrusting harder and faster as he gripped her hips tightly for purchase.
"You're so tight." Thorin said, his thrusts turning shallower as his pelvis slapped into her round buttocks that he couldn't help but slap one cheek with the flat of his hand, earning a surprised yelp from Ayla. Grinning he slapped her other cheek and Ayla mewled, her inner walls tightening around him. With a few more thrusts Thorin was bent over Ayla's back, his hips jerking forward as he came inside her, spilling everything he had.
Thorin pulled out slowly, staring at the red imprints on Ayla's round buttocks and felt his cock stir at the sight. Ayla pushed her skirt down to cover herself and turned around, leaning back against the table as she combed her hand through her hair, sweeping it out of her face that was flushed pink from their activity. She smirked at him, sending a rush throughout his body until he realized that her smirking was due to the fact that his pants were still around his ankles. He quickly pulled them up and looked around for his belt.
This was exactly what she needed, and she figured there was no harm in round two. Ayla glanced down and saw his belt at her feet and picked it up for him, clearing her throat to get his attention. Thorin looked back at her, seeing his belt in her hand. He took it from her and fastened it on his hips to secure his pants while Ayla gathered the medical books into a stack.
"Let me carry those for you." Thorin offered, taking the stack of books.
Ayla was still smirking, "Well aren't you sweet." Ayla stood up and crooked her finger at him to follow. She led him out of the library and through the stone halls towards the living quarters, passing by other dwarves who stared curiously at their prince, carrying a stack of books and following behind Ayla. Thorin could care less about what his people thought of him at that moment because he was feeling weightless and light, trailing behind the woman he loved. When they entered her suite Thorin set the books down on a sideboard table, his eyes following Ayla. He watched as she stopped by the bed and looked over her shoulder at him.
On impulse he walked towards her as if in a trance. He walked all the way to her, stopping in front of her as Ayla bent forward and kissed him tenderly on the lips while her hands were at work, untying Thorin's belt from his hips. He felt his pants loosen at his hips, threatening to slide down his legs when suddenly Ayla shoved him hard and he fell back with a gasp, landing atop her bed and Ayla moved to quickly straddle him. Bending down, she kissed him and he immediately reciprocated, his hands going to her waist but Ayla caught them and tied his wrists together with his belt, wrapping the leather tightly, binding his hands together. He looked up at Ayla, unable to keep the grin off his face.
"Well, this is new." he said, quickly growing hard at what was unraveling before him.
"Yes, and I promise you," Ayla began, her voice low and sultry as she pulled her gown up and over her head, tossing the gown aside and giving Thorin an eyeful of her naked body. "You will enjoy this."
xxxxx
(Years later)
It was another good morning for Thorin as he gazed at the sleeping face of his heart's desire. Ayla's face was pressed into the pillows, her hair a wild mess from last night. Her upper half was bare, the sheets of their blankets only covering her lower half. This was a normal thing now for him, waking up next to her in their bed. His dream came true to finally have the woman he loved in his arms and in his bed. Now all that remained was to make her his wife and everything will be perfect. If only she would accept his proposal wholeheartedly.
Thorin thought back to how they blossomed as a couple, how he fell in love all over again with Ayla. They ate meals together, slept together, went on outings together, they even argued over petty disagreements. Perhaps petty was the wrong word since their arguments always centered around Ayla's refusal to marry him. Once he had accused her unwillingness for marriage due to her still being in love with Thranduil, which resulted in a bigger fight and Ayla kicking him out of their room and refusing to speak to him for a month (she even went as far as pretending he didn't exist). Of course they made up, they always do. They always made up in the most carnal of ways that ended with them both naked and panting. And whenever they got into a fight it never ceased to amaze him how his family would so easily take Ayla's side over his, even his nephews would act nasty towards him and blow raspberries in his direction.
But he was wearing her down on the topic of marriage, as she was finally wearing the bracelet he had made for her as a betrothal gift. He took it as a sign that they were heading in the right direction, despite it taking longer than he would have liked. He supposed he was just being impatient, because he wanted what his sister had: a family. He wanted Ayla to be his wife and to be the mother of his children. He wanted that fantasy made real.
He wondered if Ayla wants the same fantasy.
He knew she desired children, she had told him that when he had asked her thoughts on having a family. And then learned that she had several failed pregnancies. Such a fact would have dampened his hope of possibly having children with Ayla, but in his heart he was sure that he could give her what she wanted: a child.
He supposed there was no rush, especially when they still had many more wonderful years to go. He was sure of it. Moving closer he lowered his lips to her bare shoulder, sliding one hand down the curve of her back and under the sheets to palm at her buttock. Ayla let out a soft moan as she stirred awake and Thorin moved up to kiss her awake.
"Good morning, my love." Thorin said.
"Mm, morning." Ayla replied, stretching and yawning awake. She rolled onto her back, rubbing the sleep from her eyes while Thorin moved on top of her, taking one of her dusky nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the hardening nub, sucking on it and giving it a teasing bite while he pinched and rolled the other nipple between his fingers. Ayla moaned, her fingers going into his hair, massaging his scalp in encouragement as she opened her legs and Thorin settled his hips between them.
Ayla moaned again when Thorin began to move his hips against hers, his morning erection sliding along her moistened slit. He released his hand from her breast to reach down between them, guiding his ready cock to her entrance and pushed in. He kissed her sternum and then up to her collarbone as he moved in an even pace. Thorin pushed up onto his knees, gripping Ayla's thighs as he continued thrusting into her, moving in and out faster, enjoying the slick friction of their bodies. Not to mention the view of Ayla and her breasts bouncing with his every thrust, her mouth open in pleasure as she moaned and her eyes closed.
He quickly came inside her with a gasping moan before bending forward and laying on top of Ayla, his ear pressed to her chest to listen to her beating heart as it slowly steadied. He remained inside her, savoring their unity (and also because he wanted to make sure all of his seed was inside her). Regardless if they were married or not he wanted to get started on their family; and Thorin knew that Ayla was not taking any measures of contraceptives because she believed that she was infertile. Yet Thorin held out hope. He believed their love was true enough that they will be blessed with children. But it had been years, and Thorin was always eager to have sex with Ayla anywhere and anytime, so then why were none of their efforts bearing fruit?
Was Ayla correct in saying that she truly was infertile?
xxxxx
Sitting with Dis, Ayla hardly touched her tea, too wrapped up in her thoughts of leaving. She had received a letter that day from one of her Ranger friends in the north. He had written that they were in need of her medical help. The letter hadn't been very specific as to what was going on but it clued her in enough that it was serious. Arathorn was a proud man and would never seek help outside the Rangers if it weren't important enough. Ayla had to leave ASAP, the sooner the better as the journey to the Northern Mountains was quite a trip. She might just cut through Rivendell to save her some time.
The real challenge was telling Thorin that she would be leaving and that she didn't know when she would return (if she even wanted to return that is). In truth Ayla simply wanted to end things between her and Thorin; his possessiveness and constant proposing were setting off alarm bells in her brain. He was showing signs of mental illness, and he was growing increasingly aggressive (even a little violent) towards anyone who tried to even tried to look her way. It was very troubling, and she worried that Thorin was heading down the same path as his father and grandfather. If Ayla was honest with herself, it was only a matter of time before Thorin would turn his aggression towards her, and it could be triggered by anything.
She needed to end things.
She had no desire to stay in a relationship that started as a rebound in the first place.
"Ayla, are you all right?" Dis asked.
The human woman slowly shook her head. "No, and I'm afraid I haven't been all right for some time now."
Dis set her hands in her lap as she looked at Ayla, her thick eyebrows slanting into a frown. "It's Thorin, isn't it? He's been acting erratic as of late. I've had my suspicions since last summer when he threatened my boys about taking up too much of your time."
"It's not just that, Dis, he's been…I'm afraid he has the dragon sickness and that I'm the source."
"Hmm…"
"Plus I think now is the right time to leave. I have a friend in the Rangers who needs my help."
Dis nodded her head. "Yes, some time apart will be good for Thorin."
"I just need a way to tell Thorin without him getting angry. Maybe I should just leave when he's elsewhere, like at dinner?"
"Really? You're going to sneak out like someone tween on curfew?" Dis asked, before throwing her head back in a full out laugh, slapping her thighs at the thought.
"I'm glad I still amuse you with my problems." Ayla deadpanned, though she was incredibly worried; Thorin's behavior was eerily frightening. More than once Ayla had been afraid for her own life and usually it was when she and Thorin were having sex. He had developed a kink for choking her, and normally Ayla was down for some adventure in BDSM, but until Thorin had taken to tying her up and then choking her was where she drew the line. The last time had been over a month ago.
It was time to leave.
xxxxx
Making the decision, Ayla decided it best to just leave and not say anything to anyone. She had to get out and find the Rangers in the north. As she packed she stopped every so often, trying to fight back the tears that were building up. She should've done this ages ago. She should've left when she saw the first signs of Thorin's decent into this darkness. But she stayed because she loved him, because she thought she could fix him. But she had been painfully wrong and now she was running away, just like she ran away from Thranduil.
"Ayla," she heard Thorin's voice from behind, surprising her as she stood up straight and turned around to look at him. He looked confused, seeing her packing her essential belongings. "What is going on here?"
Shit! She got caught.
"I'm leaving, Thorin." she said, "There's an urgent matter I have to see to in the north."
"You're leaving?" Thorin asked, surprised and blindsided by Ayla's announcement.
A sudden flare of frustration erupted inside her. "Yes, did I stutter?" Ayla asked sarcastically as she turned her back to him and continued packing her travelling bag. "I have to go; my friend's letter stated it was an emergency."
Ayla could practically feel Thorin bristling up behind her. "Who sent the letter?" he asked, his voice now lower with an edge to it.
"A friend of mine; one of the Rangers of the North." Ayla answered.
"And what's so important that you have to leave right away?"
"He's in trouble, that's all you need to know." Ayla said, pulling on her travelling cape and clasping her pin in the front.
He? Thorin immediately had the compulsion to lock Ayla away.
"No! I need to know more! Who is this friend? Why does he ask for your help?" Thorin demanded, standing in front of Ayla.
Ayla looked at him, her eyes showing how frustrated she was with him. "There's no need to be suspicious, Thorin, or don't you trust me?" She saw the hesitation and guilt in his eyes which Ayla didn't seem at all surprised to see. "I see, well this is quite the bitter note to leave on." she said, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulders and heading towards the door.
"Ayla, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way I'm just worried." Thorin said, chasing after her. He reached out for her hand, catching it in his as he pulled her back to look at him. "I do trust you; I just don't trust this friend of yours."
"I don't need you to trust him I need you to trust me." Ayla said, pulling her hand from his. "That's all I want, Thorin. For you to trust that nothing will happen."
"I do trust you, Ayla."
"Even if you say that it wouldn't matter in the end. You're easily jealous of other people you see me with, including your own family. The way you act so possessively over me, it's not healthy and it actually scares me."
"If I act like that it's only because I love you so much. I don't want to lose you." he said, grabbing her wrist desperately, trying to find reasons to make her stay and see that he was simply looking out for her best interest. "Don't leave, Ayla."
"Let go of me." Ayla said firmly.
"Why would you even want to leave? The humans have tried to kill you and the elves no longer welcome you. Where else can you go?" Thorin asked and Ayla immediately felt her stomach twist at the mention of the elves, her mind instantly bringing up an image of Thranduil and Legolas. She shook her head and tried to pull her wrists from Thorin's grip but his hold was tight.
"You don't know what you're talking about. On top of that, I'm not asking you for permission, Thorin, I'm letting you know that I'm leaving because my friend in the north is in trouble."
Thorin's eyes narrowed up at her. "And what exactly does this friend of yours need help with?" he asked, looking at Ayla with suspicion and it did not go unnoticed, but she said nothing as the letter that had been written requested that she kept its contents secret and to burn the letter once she was done reading it. "You're running back to him, aren't you?" Thorin all but spat and Ayla looked down at him in surprise. "I knew it. You couldn't choose between us."
What the fuck?
"Are you hearing yourself? You sound ridiculous." Ayla scoffed, pulling at her wrists again. "Let go of me, Thorin!" In the struggle Thorin pulled her roughly back, throwing her off balance and sending her to the floor. She let out a yelp of pain as her right hip and shoulder landed hard on the stone floor.
"I will be damned if I ever let you go back to that traitorous elf!" Thorin screamed as he loomed menacingly over Ayla. "Have you forgotten what he did to my people? How he abandoned us? Abandoned you?! And you would willingly go crawling back to him like a bitch in heat!"
Ayla tried to get up but Thorin had pushed her back down, his rage taking over and she felt keenly aware of how afraid she was at that moment. This was a side of Thorin she had seen before whenever they argued, but he had never acted violently towards her then.
"I should've known better! To think I've wasted all these years—why you refuse to marry me! It was all because you still love him!"
"Of course I do!" Ayla yelled back, glaring up at him in defiance. Thorin's eyes widened, shocked by her retaliation. "I've spent centuries more with him than you've been alive! You can't expect me to forget what he and I had just because I've been in your bed!" A loud slap echoed in the foyer of their room and Ayla was stunned silent, her left cheek stinging from Thorin's hand. She could taste the metallic tang of blood in her mouth; the impact of the slap had been strong enough to cut the inside of her cheek against her teeth.
Thorin's stomach felt sour after hitting Ayla, having lost control of his anger; and strangely it also excited him. He felt justified in it; feeling betrayed that Ayla would so openly admit that she still loved the King of the Woodland Realm. Dropping down to his knees in front of her, he reached up and cradled her face in his hands, still seeing the defiance in her teary eyes. It only made his blood run hotter as he became aroused and he pulled her forward to him, capturing her mouth with his in a hungry kiss, fueled with anger and passion. Whenever they fought they always wound up in bed together. But not this time. Ayla pushed him away forcefully, disgusted by his behavior as she tried once more to get up but Thorin held tight.
"You are mine." he growled into her face. "No one else can ever have you."
"You're insane." Ayla hissed, "Just like your grandfather."
Thorin's eyes widened and he instantly released her as if her very skin burned him. Backing away Thorin digested what Ayla had said, comparing his rage to his grandfather's insanity due to dragon sickness. Looking at Ayla, at the red cheek he had struck with his own hand, at the thrill he felt for hurting her…and he wanted to do it again. To feel dominant over what was meant to be his.
"I'm leaving, Thorin." Ayla said, pulling him back to the present. His eyes focusing on her again as she stood up. "I'm leaving and I won't be returning."
Anger flared through him again at her words of defiance. "No! I forbid you from leaving!"
She scoffed at him, "I don't care, Thorin. You've crossed the line and now you can't go back. It's over between us." She went to the door, grabbing her bag again and this time making it out of the door.
"Ayla!" Thorin yelled, rushing out their room after her. "Ayla! Stop! You cannot leave me!" He reached out and grabbed onto Ayla's arm, knowing his grip was hurting her but he desperately wanted her to stay. He felt that her leaving him would surely be the death of him. "As your king I forbid you to leave!"
"Let go!" Ayla yelled, fighting back as she struggled to free herself from Thorin's grip. "I said let go!" she screamed, swinging her bag around with her free hand and knocking it into the side of Thorin's head and at the same time taking a step back. Thorin's grip on her slackened and Ayla's arm slid out and her step back had been miscalculated as her foot missed the step. As if in slow motion, Thorin watched in horror, as Ayla slipped through his fingers. Her engagement bracelet catching on his middle finger and the chain of mythril snapping like string. Powerless to stop what came next, he watched as Ayla fell backwards down the flight of stone steps.
Her name escaped his lips in a desperate, frantic plea as he looked down at Ayla's broken form at the very bottom, unmoving and unresponsive. It was then he became aware of all the eyes that had witnessed their scuffle.
"Uncle! What have you done?"
Thorin looked back to see his two nephews looking at him in horror. Their mother beside them with her hands covering her mouth and her eyes wide with shock. He looked around him, at all the eyes that looked upon him in shock and the reality of what he had done came crashing into him like a tidal wave.
xxxxx
Thorin was wracked with guilt as he sat at Ayla's bedside, holding her cold hand in his. Her fall down the stone stairs had given her a head injury, not to mention breaking both her legs and her right arm. It had been a week since their fight that led to this tragedy, and Ayla had yet to wake from it and Thorin feared that she never will. What was worse was when the healer told him that Ayla had been pregnant and the fall had caused her to miscarry. The news alone had devastated Thorin, burdened even further by the knowledge that he had killed their child. Ayla would never forgive him for that. And why should she? It was clear that she had been unhappy for some time and he simply chose to ignore the signs because he was terrified of losing her.
He had been a selfish fool, blinded by his greed to keep her to himself. And if she ever wakes up he will surely lose her forever.
"Forgive me, my love." he whispered and kissed the back on her hand like he had done so many times since Ayla's fall. He knew Ayla had the ability to come back from the dead, having heard the legend but he had no idea how long it was supposed to take until she woke up. Her heart was beating, that much he knew, and her skin was slightly warm to the touch. He would give up everything for her to open her eyes and be well again.
"Please, Ayla…please, wake up."
Balin entered the room and looked upon the hunch back of his king, sitting beside the woman he loved, the woman he had broken in a fit of rage and jealousy. It was truly heartbreaking and pitiful at the same time.
"Thorin, you cannot continue on with such behavior. The way you've been acting, this jealousy, it's as if you have the dragon sickness within you when it comes to Lady Ayla." Balin said, trying to speak reason with his King. It was no secret that Thorin was like a territorial dog around Ayla, ready to bite at anyone who got too near. His jealousy and possessiveness had become too big a problem to ignore; especially when Balin (and nearly everyone) witnessed their argument right before Ayla's tragic fall. Witnessing that had been the last straw for Balin and he simply couldn't remain silent any longer.
"Your behavior as of late is not befitting a King, Thorin. I cannot stand behind you if you this is the kind of King you truly are! Hurting the ones you love just so they will stay is not the way. All you're doing is just pushing them away even more." Balin said, "It is appalling to see you treat Lady Ayla as if she were your property. You cannot deny her purpose to Middle Earth by locking her away!"
Thorin was still holding Ayla's hand, and hung his head in shame because Balin was speaking the truth. It was true, he was obsessed and it was taking a toll on him mentally. He was disgusted with himself, his obsession driving him to hurt Ayla and kill their unborn child and to hear it from Balin…who had seen it…
"You're right," he finally said, his voice low with shame. "What I've done was shameful and I don't know how to control myself. When she wakes…"
"No, Thorin. When she wakes it's best that you keep your distance until she is ready to see you." Balin said.
Thorin hesitated but slowly nodded his head in agreement. Lifting his head up he looked to Ayla's face, pale and unresponsive. He kissed her knuckles gently before setting her hand down at her side and stood up, facing his long time friend with remorse on his face. "Please, look after her in my absence."
xxxxx
A few days passed by and Ayla awoke, fully recovered from her fall. Dis and Balin had been there at her side when she awoke, telling her of what happened. Unfortunately Ayla remembered it all perfectly, one of her supposed downside to her strange immortality. What she hadn't known was that she had another miscarriage caused by the fall, and that news (though upsetting) had been a bit of a relief. She didn't feel the same attachment as she did to her previous pregnancies, and wondered if it had to do with the fact that she had fallen out of love with Thorin (or maybe because she had never been in love with Thorin from the start?). Regardless of her feelings about the news she decided to simply focus on moving forward and that meant leaving like she originally planned.
Ayla breathed in the cool, crisp mountain air as a freezing wind blew past her, making her shiver. She turned back to look at her two godsons, grateful for their help as she went to them and hugged them both. They hugged her in return, their embrace tight before releasing her. She touched their cheeks, their beards short and fine. A telling sign of their youth.
"Remember this: it's not enough to just be good, you have to reflect that by doing good. Do you understand?" she said, seeing both boys nodding their heads. Kili sniffed and wiped at his watering eyes with the back of his sleeve. "This isn't goodbye forever. We'll see each other again. I love you both. Take care of each other." She kissed each of their foreheads before taking the torch from Fili and turning away to make the trek down the mountain.
Her journey north had been slow going. Her body had gotten too used to living a life of comfort and was still recovering (strangely enough, normally her body often sprung back). A part of her began to wonder if whatever magic that had been keeping her alive was beginning to wear off? Or was it affected by her mood? Now that she had time to think on it she did heal faster when she was happy versus when she was sad or upset. Though it was a theory she wasn't in a hurry to test out.
xxxxx
Months have passed and Ayla had found her way back to Rivendell, though she did not return alone. With her was a woman who was only days from giving birth. Ayla's journey north to find the Rangers had been an easy enough task as Arathorn had given her easy to remember coordinates and landmarks. Arathorn hadn't been exaggerating when he had written that her assistance was urgent because his wife was pregnant. Ayla knew of Arathorn's lineage, having known the moment she saw the ring he wore on his finger, the same ring his ancestor had worn when she first arrived in Middle Earth. A shared secret had been what started their friendship.
Elrond was generous to give them both sanctuary within his home. Ayla tended to the woman, seeing how her legs and hands were swollen and the instant flushing of her cheeks when walking just a few steps, Ayla's experienced eye saw that she was suffering from eclampsia. A fatal condition for pregnant women and the only cure being to induce an early pregnancy, but because she was already so far along Ayla could only hope that her symptoms will go away after delivering. She wished she could check the woman's blood pressure but unfortunately all of her tools and medical instruments had been lost or damaged over the decades. The best she could offer was keeping the woman comfortable and making sure she remained resting in bed.
Ayla had informed Elrond in private that the woman was the wife of Arathorn, of whom the elven lord was familiar with. She explained that Arathorn had averted the attention of orcs from following them, originally targeting Arathorn due to somehow finding out his lineage. Elrond understood the importance of keeping the man's legacy alive and per Ayla's request to also hold onto Arathorn's ring until the time was right. After less than a week, the woman had gone into labor. It all came in a rush to Ayla as she ordered for hot water and clean towels to be brought while Ayla herself coached the distressed woman to keep focus. The moon was at its zenith when the sound of the mother's screams stopped and then followed by silence.
The baby came out with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and Ayla made quick work of cutting the cord and scooping a finger in its mouth to clear out any of the placenta and balanced the baby on her forearm while pressing two firm fingers into its chest. She was performing an emergency CPR on the infant, stimulating the heart to start up and then puffing half a breath into the baby by covering his mouth and nose with her mouth and then pumping her fingers into his chest again. She repeated this cycle three more times before the baby finally took its first breath on its own and began to wail, letting the world know that he was alive.
"Ar…Aragorn…" the mother breathed, looking at her baby. "Aragorn…"
"Gilraen," Ayla said, seeing the woman lose consciousness. She handed the wailing infant over to one of the elves that were assisting her while she turned to inspect the mother. Ayla checked her pulse in her neck, feeling nothing and began to perform another emergency CPR, but unlike her luck with the baby, she couldn't save the mother. She wasn't the first mother she had lost to childbirth, and Ayla knew she wouldn't be the last. And with the father missing, the baby had no one.
xxxxx
(Past)
Ayla sat with Pamela at her first of many pre-natal visits with the obstetrician, ready to verify and hear the evidence that Pamela had a sprout growing in her belly. Of course it would be incredibly disappointing if it all turned out to be nothing, especially when Pamela had gone through a dozen pregnancy tests from the drug store and from the hospital's pharmacy. And as much as it pained Ayla to be in one of these rooms again and not be the one expecting, she sucked it up for the sake of her best friend.
"Which one of those pictures do you think has the ugliest baby?" Pamela asked, looking at the wall of baby pictures.
"Hmm. The third one to the far left." Ayla said.
"Super creepy, wonder what the parents look like." Pamela said and both of them laughed shamelessly.
A knock at the door indicated the doctor was there and in entered the doctor, an older woman with salt and pepper hair and creamy mocha skin. She introduced herself as Dr. Martinez who came highly recommended by Google search. Ayla didn't want to use the OBGYN she had gone to, mostly because it would have been awkward.
"So, how long have you two been trying?" she asked, giving them a polite and accepting smile. Ayla and Pamela both looked at each other with a mischievous glint in their eyes.
"Not very long," Pamela said, taking Ayla's hand in hers. "We got lucky on the first try."
"Yup, our preliminary technique for weeding out the weak donors worked out as planned." Ayla added, playing along. "Who knew a turkey baster would work so well?"
"Well, let's check to see how well that worked out for you today." the doctor said. Pamela lifted her shirt and cold ultrasound jelly was squirted onto her skin and the handpiece was used to spread it around. All eyes went to the black and white screen. With just the right placement they all heard the fluttery pulse of the baby's heartbeat.
Pamela's hands held onto Ayla's, sucking in a breath as their eyes were glued to the screen. "Oh, Soryn! The cheap pee-sticks really work!"
"Look at that, you actually have your own spawn in there." Ayla said, feeling giddy in the moment.
"From the looks of it you're a good six weeks in." said the doctor, "Congratulations to you both. Would you like a print out of today's ultrasound?"
"Yes," Ayla said, "We're planning on making a scrapbook of every stage."
"Oh, how nice! I'll be right back." the doctor then took her leave as Pamela wiped away the jelly.
"Scrapbook?" Pamela asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That's believable, right?" Ayla asked. Pamela snorted, tossing the tissue in the bin.
"Hmm, that's actually not a terrible idea. Let's ask Stacy, she likes doing girly things like that, right?"
"I'm guessing she hasn't shown you her collection yet. Lucky you."
"So how are you doing? None of this is too upsetting for you?"
Ayla shook her head and smiled at Pamela. "Don't worry about me. This is all about you."
"You're damn right it is!" Pamela grinned.
xxxxx
(Present)
Gilraen had been buried in a modest grave in elven soil, her newborn son left in the hands of the elves. Under normal circumstances the baby would have been left with the next of kin, but because one parent was dead and the other missing it left the question of who will care for the boy. In the end, Elrond had asked that Ayla care for the child as her own if she was willing; otherwise his people would raise the child.
Ayla had no intention of going anywhere, having no desire to travel, having no desire for anything—and definitely had no desire to raise someone else's child, especially when she was strongly reminded of the baby she had lost. On top of that, Aragorn was Isildur's heir, which meant that his life was in danger and would need protecting. And how was she going to protect him when she could hardly care for herself?
But…
If her long life and experiences have taught her anything it was that time was still against her and that she shouldn't let opportunities pass her by. Was this the universe throwing her a bone? Giving her another chance at motherhood? She's already raised one adopted son (who probably hates her now but what son doesn't eventually resent their mothers as they get older?), and being a foster mother had always been her backup. She thought about Gilraen, and how scared she looked when Arathorn left to divert the orc's attentions from them. How she confided in Ayla that should she herself die to look after her child. Aragorn was just an infant, he would never know his mother but his father could return…
She could hear the distant cries of the infant from where she sat, her heart clenching as she looked at the grave. "I hope you'll forgive me for taking your place." she said softly before rising to her feet and turning to follow the cries. Her ears leading her back to Elrond's study where the elf was sitting in his chair and trying to sooth the baby's wailing. He looked up when he felt her presence, standing up and going to her, gently handing the baby to her. Ayla cradled Aragorn in her arms, gently bouncing him and patting his back as his cries were quickly remedied.
Elrond smiled gently at her. "He already recognizes you as the one who gave him life." he said, reminding her that she had revived Aragorn the second he was born. "But he cannot be called by his given name less the evil that lurks in the shadows finds him. He must be raised under a new name."
"Estel," she said softly, "I'm going to name him Hope." she looked up at Elrond who nodded his approval.
"Estel, son of Ayla, the Mother of Mercy."
xxxxx
(Past)
Ayla was leaning against the stall in the ladies' room, listening to her best friend hurling into the porcelain bowl. She yawned tiredly while holding her cup of coffee, sipping the hot liquid and savoring its taste while she waited for Pamela to finish emptying every last bit of bile her stomach carried. Eventually she heard the flushing of the toilet and the click on the lock of the stall door, and out came Pamela, pale, clammy, and looking incredibly miserable.
"Why is it that you feel compelled to send me an emergency text every time you need to puke?" Ayla asked while Pamela rinsed her mouth out in the sink, a travel-size bottle of mouthwash pulled out from her lab coat. Pamela swished a mouthful of the minty blue liquid and spat into the sink.
"Oh, you know me, I just love to share." Pamela said dryly.
"Mm, guess that makes me the Best Friend of the Year." Ayla said, equally as dry as she walked out with her. "I expect a trophy when you're done being pregnant."
"Yes, and you've earned it." Pamela said in a baby voice as she playfully pinched Ayla's cheek. Ayla swatted her hand away, annoyed but smiling. "What would I do without you?"
"Well, first of all, without me you'd probably have started drinking martinis and pairing them with sushi for lunch. Second, I'd rather be the cool aunt who feeds your kid so much sugar that they can practically fly to the moon and then leave them in your care."
Pamela snorted, "Have I mentioned that if I didn't like cock so much I'd totally go lesbian for you?"
"Sadly, yes. At least once a year when we get incredibly drunk together."
"Hmm, do you recall what time of year?"
"Usually around Christmas. I think Amber has a photo of us making out our senior year of undergrad. She gave it to Becky in a birthday card form, if I remember."
"Jeez…that cunt is wicked." Pamela sighed, "Where's my naughty birthday card?"
"You'll probably get one at your baby shower."
Just six more months to get through.
xxxxx
(Present)
Ayla had been up for nearly three nights in a row as Estel refused to sleep and continued to cry. She was beginning to lose her mind and had tried every trick in the book from feeding him warm milk to swaddling him in a cocoon of fluffy blankets. She must've skipped the chapter on colicky babies and what to do with them when throwing them off a cliff wasn't an option.
"Please stop crying!" she begged, wanting to break down and cry herself. Why did she agree to raise this kid? Why did she bother to resuscitate the little bastard?! She was so tired and mentally drained. Elrond was right about one thing, the baby did distract her mind from her other problems. "Man I wish I had some Benadryl to give you…or whiskey."
She checked his diaper—that was clean. She checked if he was hungry—he was not. She re-swaddled him in his blanket—still fussing. She bounced him in her arms—still crying. What could she do to make him stop crying? Hmm…she thought back to her medical school days and how she had observed new mothers bonding with their newborns, laying them on their chests, skin to skin. It was worth a try. Taking off her outer layer of clothes and un-swaddling the infant, Ayla gently laid his naked front up against her bare chest, his soft round cheek pressed against her skin over her heart. She pulled on a blanket around her shoulders and held him close, gently swaying back and forth until finally—finally!—he settled down. That—or she had finally gone deaf.
Either way, it was now quiet.
Ayla reclined back on the soft lounger, carefully balancing the baby on her chest as she got comfortable and drifted off to a dreamless sleep. When she next awoke, she was still reclined on the lounger with a stiff neck and a still sleeping baby against her chest, and she wanted to continue sleeping but unfortunately Estel had peed on her.
"Just great…" she groaned.
Motherhood with an infant was certainly not what she had innocently fantasized but she knew that getting peed on and then some was just part of what she had taken on.
xxxxx
(Past)
"You're gonna love breastfeeding, Pam!" Stacy said, she, Pamela and Ayla were having lunch together after Stacy had brought her daughter in for her wellness check. Stacy was currently breastfeeding her newest daughter underneath a blanket while they waited for their lunch orders to arrive at their table. "It's a wonderful bonding experience with your baby."
"I think I'll stick to pumping." Pamela said.
"Pumping helps but it's not the same when your baby is sucking out the milk." Stacy said, "You should at least give it a try before deciding right away to just pump your milk."
"I'll consider it but I'd rather just pump." Pamela said.
"Where the hell is our food." Ayla sighed, sick of all the nursing advice (and also a little crabby because she was on her period).
"Did you get that book I recommended?" Stacy asked.
"Of course not, why would I need a book to tell me how to raise my child?" Pamela asked.
"Those types of books have a lot of helpful tips." Stacy said, "The tip about cleaning your nipple after breastfeeding and then rubbing chapstick on it was super handy."
"Is it too early to start drinking?" Ayla asked though she knew her question went ignored.
"What I want to know is how you got through the morning sickness. What tricks did you pick up for that?" Pamela asked, "Soryn here was no help with that advice because she said sniffing dryer sheets helped her, and that to me is just fucking crazy."
"I kept a box of saltine crackers by my bed and in my purse. It definitely helped with the nausea. Grape soda also helped, but it had to be flat soda or else the carbonation would leave me super gassy all day." Stacy said.
"Crackers, I'll give it try." Pamela said, "So what about the no alcohol thing?"
"Flavored water with apple cider vinegar." Stacy said.
"Seriously?" both Ayla and Pamela said together in disbelief and disgust.
"What? You wanna drink ginger ale for nine months? Screw that!" Stacy said.
"I think I can handle having a disabled baby." Pamela said.
"No you can't." Ayla said in a flat tone.
"And what makes you say that?" Pamela asked.
"Just this morning after making the mandatory rounds with the new Residents you came to me and I quote: 'Oh my fucking god, they'll let any retard become a doctor these days.' End quote. If you can barely tolerate newbies what makes you think you can tolerate a disabled kid?" Ayla said.
"That definitely sounds like something you would say." Stacy said.
"Excuse me, whose side are you on?" Pamela asked, looking at Ayla.
"I'm on yours which is why I'm pointing out that you're too shallow for a special needs kid. You're the type whose gonna be that mom where your kid will be mixing you drinks for their allowance." Ayla said.
Pamela laughed. "That does sound like me."
Stacy laughed, too as she placed her baby back in her carrier and readjust her top before laying the blanket over the baby. "I wonder what kind of mom you'll make, Ayla." she said before realizing what she had said and looked at Ayla with wide, apologetic eyes. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—ugh! I stuck my foot in my mouth again!"
Ayla just smiled at Stacy, "It's all right, I wonder about that, too."
Pamela put her hand over Ayla's and gave it a squeeze. "It'll happen for you. And when it does, you'll be the best mom out of all of us."
xxxxx
(Present)
Thranduil's heart thundered in his chest as he slowly approached Ayla, her back to him as she stood in the open field of tall golden grass and wild flowers that had bloomed late this season. Her long dark hair had been tied up high on her head with loose strands hanging defiantly from their constraints. With her hair mostly out of the way it exposed her neck, still as lovely and graceful as he remembered, awakening an urge for him to put his lips upon the soft spot behind her ear that made her whole body tremble. As he got closer he noticed that she appeared to be holding something in her arms and she was gently swaying side to side on her feet, as if she were rocking a baby in her arms.
A week ago he had received a letter from Elrond, informing him that Ayla had resurfaced and taken refuge in his domain. The letter had been vague as to why Ayla was hiding away in Rivendell and not simply return to Mirkwood, though he could guess why she would choose Rivendell. Thranduil was still hurt by Ayla's betrayal, but having had a few decades to reflect upon it, his anger hadn't been so fully focused on Ayla but on himself. Ayla had been right in saying he and his army could have done more to help, instead of fighting the dragon he could have ordered his army to assist the people escaping. He could have done more for aiding his former allies instead of turning away. Had he stayed then things would have been different. He and Ayla would still be together, happily.
She would never have been seduced by that dwarf. She would never have left him. No…what's done is done and there was no going back to fix past mistakes. There was only moving forward and hoping for the best.
So what was he hoping for by coming here?
Just a few steps away from her he stopped. He could hear her humming a lullaby, the very same one she often hummed or sang to Legolas when he was a small child.
"Ayla," he called softly and her humming halted, and her swaying ceased as she stood suddenly still. Very slowly she turned her head to look over her shoulder, their eyes meeting. She was still as beautiful as he remembered, standing in the soft light of the setting sun, casting its heavenly glow of orange, pink and red on her. He watched as her body slowly turned towards him and his eyes immediately fell to the babe cooing in her arms. He raised his gaze to meet hers, and they stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, neither one of them speaking. He saw no apology in her eyes as she stood before him with a baby in her arms.
A baby that she obviously had with another man.
Whatever he had hoped to possibly achieve was extinguished by this unexpected reality.
He knew that Ayla had spent several years wandering around into small villages, and several more with Thorin and his people in the Blue Mountains. Did she lay with one of the men in those villages and bore him a child? Or could it be she had given birth to Thorin's child? Such a truth splintered his heart.
"Thranduil," she said softly, the sound of his name coming from her like a gentle caress to his soul. "What are you doing here?"
"I had come for you, Ayla. But I see I've come too late." he said, his eyes flicking down to the baby and then back at her. It took everything he had from lashing out at her, calling her horrible names and for once more breaking his heart and disappointing Legolas.
"Oh…" she said, lowering her eyes, unable to hold his accusing gaze. "Perhaps I should explain."
"Yes, perhaps you should." Thranduil said, his tone carrying more bite than he had intended but he was not going to apologize about it. He was angry, and he felt that he was entitled to be angry.
Ayla adjusted the baby's weight in her arms, lifting him up higher to rest against her shoulder. "Estel is an orphan. His father was killed by orcs and his mother died at childbirth."
"And you were desperate for a child to call your own." Thranduil accused bitterly, reminded all too vividly of Ayla's previous failed pregnancies.
Ayla's hackles were raised at his words, insulted by that low blow. "He has no other family, Thranduil. And his parents were my friends. I couldn't just abandon him, that would have been cruel and an insult to his parents' memories." Even still her heart was too big and Thranduil could see that she truly loved the boy as her own. "I helped raise your son and he wasn't even my own, but I saw him as mine and loved him as his mother. And I know Legolas recognized me as his mother. So I see no difference in Estel's case. He needed a mother, just like Legolas did. You can't fault me for this fact."
"You're right. I cannot." he admitted, even though it left a bitter aftertaste. "I can see now that my coming here was pointless."
He saw her face fall with sadness at his words. "Then why did you come?"
Thranduil paused, having wondered that himself. When he had received a letter from Lord Elrond that he had given Ayla asylum in his house Thranduil had wrote back that he would come for her. But as he journeyed through the Misty Mountains to Rivendell he pondered about his reasons for acting so hastily. It came as no surprise that he still loved Ayla, and he had wanted nothing more than to move past their previous grievances. Yet it was clear that too much time had passed between them and he feared that he had allowed his one chance to make things right slip away.
"It no longer matters." he said almost too quietly, turning away and retracing his steps back to Elrond's home. Ayla made no attempt to stop him because as much as she wanted to be with Thranduil again, she knew there was still too much hurt between them. And with the baby present, it wasn't a good idea to open old wounds.
xxxxx
That evening Thranduil joined Elrond for dinner, expecting Ayla would also be present but she wasn't. More than likely she had taken to eating in her room because of the baby. It was better this way. The less he saw of her, the easier it would be to simply leave and return home.
"Were you able to speak with Lady Ayla?" Elrond asked.
"We spoke, but I'm afraid the results were not in my favor." Thranduil replied, his heart still stinging.
"Did she tell you about Estel?"
"She told me that his parents are gone and that she will be raising him. Nothing more than that."
"So then she did not tell you about who his father was?"
"No. Who was his father?"
Elrond reached into his sleeve and pulled out a ring, setting it down by Thranduil's plate. Picking it up Thranduil immediately recognized the design as the Ring of Barahir and his grey eyes looked up at Elrond's in surprise. "The boy is Isildur's heir?"
Elrond nodded his head. "Which is why he must be protected. Lady Ayla had befriended Arathorn many years ago and helped deliver his son, Aragorn."
"I thought his name was Estel."
"It is, but Lady Ayla was wise to change it to protect him further. She has pledged herself to raising him as her own and has thus far upheld that promise. The boy is thriving under her care, and will continue to do so."
"Have you already foreseen his future?"
"Yes, and it will have many struggles."
"Does Ayla know of them?"
"No. She has asked to not know. She said being a mother is hard enough and to know what lies ahead for her child will only make the present harder." Elrond took notice of the tightening in the Elvenking's jaw, and the way his shoulders looked rigid and stiff. "Her pain is deep, as if yours. I know that after the attack on Dale and Erebor, something had caused a rift between you both and it saddens our kin and myself to learn that you are no longer together. Whatever it was to have sever your bond of true love must have been significant indeed."
xxxxx
Thranduil knocked on Ayla's door later that night; on the other side he can hear Estel crying. He knocked again on the door and heard her call out to come inside. He opened the door, entering her room and seeing her laying Estel down on the bed where she had placed down a cloth and began to change his linen diaper. Thranduil had not been prepared for that but was fixated by how seamless it was for Ayla, cleaning the infant and tossing the dirty linen into a basket behind her while simultaneously putting on a new linen diaper. Her ability to multitask was always impressive and she did it all with a smile as she redressed the infant who was once more docile and content.
"Who's a happy baby?" she cooed, tickling Estel's tummy with her fingers, making the infant laugh and kick his feet. "Yes! You're my happy baby!" Ayla bent down, kissing his chubby cheeks and making him laugh more before she picked him up and rose up to stand, still kissing his cheeks with so much affection. Seeing Ayla like this with Estel, it made Thranduil's heart ache and whatever lingering bitterness he held vanished at the love that radiated off of her for the boy.
Ayla looked over at Thranduil and was visibly surprised to see him and not someone else. "Was there something you needed?" she asked, her tone was still warm but he could hear the deafening echo of her wariness towards him as she held Estel to her body, her arms acting like a protective barrier.
Thranduil swallowed a lump in his throat. He had every intention of speaking to Ayla about Estel's true origin, about how he now knew that Estel was Isildur's heir, and that she shouldn't have to carry the burden of protecting him on her own.
But seeing her with Estel, how truly happy she looked…
"What you're doing is noble, Ayla. Estel is truly lucky to have you as his mother." he said. She looked at him with some surprise, obviously not expecting that and then her surprise melted into a genuine smile that only made his heart clench with longing.
"Thank you. And how is Legolas? Did he not come with you?"
"No, he remained behind but he is well. He misses his naneth."
Ayla nodded as she gently patted Estel's back, sensing he was on the verge of sleep. She carried him over to his cradle, laying him down gently and tucking the blanket around his body snuggly. Ayla watched him drift off and gently stroked his soft black curls before turning and walking over to Thranduil.
"Did Lord Elrond tell you the truth about Estel?" she asked, her voice soft.
"He did." She was standing close enough that he could reach out and stroke her cheek, but he didn't, consciously making the effort to restrain himself. "Which is why I will be leaving at first light, back to the Woodland Realm…without you."
Ayla looked down and nodded her head. "Then I wish you a safe journey."
He wanted nothing more than for her to come home with Estel but Elrond had made it clear that for Estel's sake it would best that he remained in Rivendell where Elrond's magic can protect him from being seen by the evil that still lurked beyond his borders. And Ayla would not leave Estel behind and he could not stay away from his own kingdom just to stay with the woman he still loved. His poor heart was breaking all over again.
"Goodnight, Ayla." he said softly, turning away from her again and leaving.
When the door closed, Ayla broke down in tears, hugging herself and trying not to make too much noise. It didn't have to be said, she knew that it was over for good with Thranduil. And it hurt more than she realized.
xxxxx
As time went on, Ayla cared for Estel as her own, raising him among the elves in Rivendell. It had been agreed that his true identity be kept a secret until he was old enough to understand, especially after hearing the news that Arathorn had been killed. Ayla celebrated each and every milestone with Estel. From when he first began to teeth to his first steps to his first words (which was not Mama but in fact was "damnit," which was much funnier and more memorable because it was said on Elrond's lap). She kissed every scraped knee and soothed every fever, and she even encouraged him to be free and curious. Her heart was full of love again, but every so often she yearned for a certain Elvenking, wondering if he was thinking of her, too.
Ayla sat on a bench, gently cleaning and tending to yet another scraped knee that Estel got from being reckless. He had previously broken his right arm from falling out of a tree earlier that month but he was a resilient boy, just as she raised him to be, and at the age of twelve he was sometimes a little too smart for his own good.
"Mother, what's it like outside of Rivendell?" he asked.
"Outside of Rivendell…well, it's definitely not as quiet. It's very big and it's always changing. I doubt half of the cities I've been to are still standing now." Ayla said.
"When can I go out and see the world?"
"Whenever you want."
"Could I go now?"
"If that's what you want."
"Will you come with me?"
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"Because I've already seen the world."
"But I don't know where to go."
Ayla smiled, teasing him was too much fun. "That's part of the fun."
"Well…yes, but I…"
"Tell you what…the next time Lord Elrond goes off again on patrol, I'll ask that he takes you along. How does that sound?" She watched as his face lit up.
"Really? That would be amazing!"
"But you have to promise me that you won't come back with your head off your shoulders, because that's an injury I can't fix."
"I promise!"
Ayla kissed him on the top of his curly crown before sending him away, watching him trot away and reminded of a young Legolas who was just as energetic and fearless. Thinking of her life before Estel was less painful now, but it didn't stop her from feeling the longing and sadness. Then she would unconsciously touch her lower belly and be reminded of her loss and why she could never go back. Estel had become a balm to her aching soul, nestled in her chest.
But he was getting older now, he was more aware of himself and soon he will ask her the hard questions. Where was his father? Why didn't he look like her? Why didn't she age? Those were questions she was dreading but already had answers to. She wasn't going to sugar coat the truth; she was going to tell him as soon as he asked her. He might not ever ask her, but either way, the truth was better than a half-truth.
At fifteen he helped exterminate a small horde of orcs at their border, coming home with a proud grin as he showed her the ax from an orc he killed. Of course he ended up with a black eye and a large gash on his upper thigh that Ayla had to stitch closed.
"Hold still," she said, firmly pushing his knee down to lay his injured leg straight while the other elves who had been with him laughed quietly at his expense.
"I can't help it! It hurts!" Estel complained, "Why can't Lord Elrond use his magic to heal me?"
"Don't be such a baby." Ayla scoffed and smacked him on the forehead.
"You would have been proud, Lady Ayla." Elrond said, smiling down at Estel who was sweating bullets from the pain. "Your son was very brave on the field."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm so very proud to have a boneheaded son." Ayla grumbled before flicking his forehead. "I said hold still."
Estel propped himself up onto his elbows as he looked down at his leg and then at the needle and thread his mother was holding. "Please, Lord Elrond—tell mother that you can heal me instead."
Ayla reached up and smacked him on the forehead again. "What did I say about being a baby?"
"Forgive me, Estel, but I will not dare undermine your mother's authority." Elrond said in good humor.
Ayla had another elf, a new student interested in learning Ayla's medicinal techniques, help her hold Estel's leg still while she sutured the wound closed. Estel bit down on his hand to keep from screaming as the needle and thread went through the tender flesh.
"Mother, you're a true sadist." he groaned after she was done and cleaning away the dried blood.
"I've had years of practice." she grinned, patting his injured leg and getting a howl of pain from the teenager. Ayla gave a wicked cackle before kissing his head and leaving him be as the elf who had assisted wrap his leg.
At age twenty Estel was finally told the truth of his heritage, and was shown to the forgotten alcove where his real mother had been buried. "She was your mother. Gilraen. She died at childbirth, and because your father had disappeared before you were born there was no one else to care for you." Ayla said, sitting with him on the stone bench. Estel was quiet from the revelation of his true origin. Staring at the grave of a stranger he never knew while sitting with the woman who took her place. "I only knew her for a short time, but I know that she loved you and wanted nothing more than for you to live."
"You've never talked about my birth. How did…did she suffer?" he asked softly.
"When you came out, you weren't crying like babies usually do. Your cord was wrapped around your neck and I only had a small window to save you or else you would have died that night. Unfortunately your mother didn't make it. She had been ill while she carried you; the illness and labor were too much for her body to take. Her final breath was your name. Your real name."
"My real name?"
"Aragorn."
"And my father…what was his name?"
"Arathorn…that was his name. He's one of the Dunedain, as are you. Your father was a good man and when I heard that he had died Lord Elrond went through great lengths to keep you hidden."
"Why?"
Ayla reached into her pocket and pulled out the Ring of Barahir, putting it into her son's palm. "Because you're special. You're Isildur's heir, making you the rightful King of Gondor."
They sat in silence, Ayla giving him the time he needed to take in the truth that she had been waiting to tell. When he then took her hand in his, warm and slightly callused and scarred from all the hard training he did to be a warrior, he kissed the back of her hand. "I understand why you waited until now to tell me the truth. But the truth doesn't change the fact that you are my mother."
She smiled, putting her other hand over his. This wasn't the first time she heard those words be spoken to her, but it didn't make it any less special as her heart swelled. "And I always will be your mother."
"I think I'm ready," he said, "I want to see the world as you did."
"I think that's a terrible idea." Ayla said, earning a questionable look from Aragorn as she grinned at him. "I think you should see the world through your own eyes instead of mine. The world I saw won't be the same world you'll see." she reached up and brushed aside a strand of dark curls from his eyes. "Head north, find the other Dunedain. Learn from them, but don't give them your real name. Don't even give them your elven name, either."
"What name should I give them?"
"Whatever name you want. I think the more mysterious the better. And do write back every so often, mothers like to know that their reckless sons didn't die in a ditch somewhere."
Aragorn laughed and kissed her cheek. "I promise to get your permission first before dying in a ditch."
"That's my boy." she said, patting his cheek.
Watching him pack his horse, Ayla wondered if this is how her father felt (forget her mother) when she went off to college. Eager to kick her out but sad to see her go. She was feeling a blend of mixed emotions. On the one hand she was anxious to see him leave, while on the other hand she really needed to cut the leash and let him jump the fence.
"Goodbye, mother." he said, hugging Ayla tightly.
"Be smart out there." she said, hugging him back. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, because I've done all of it. Oh, and don't gamble with dwarves, they like to cheat." Aragorn laughed as he pulled away to go to his horse, mounting it and looking back at Ayla and Lord Elrond who were sending him off in the early hours of the morning. They watched him leave until he vanished out of their line of sight.
"How are you holding up?" Elrond asked.
Ayla let out a heavy sigh, "How will I know that I didn't mess up raising him?"
"You raised him into a fine young man, Ayla. Never doubt that." Elrond said.
"Crap, I forgot to tell him to not trust wandering wizards."
(AN: Yes, I understand the timeline doesn't quite fit but I felt compelled to write this, plus I needed a slight intermission before moving on to the next phase of the story. I do apologize to any hard core Aragorn fans out there and to all the mega Tolkien-lore buffs out there. But please do be reminded that this is a fanfic so writers like myself can indulge in fantasy. Thanks for reading!)
