Halla sat by the fire, slowly and carefully sewing the lovely soft, curling ram's wool into a buckskin swaddling blanket. She tried not to think of anything more than her stitches, but soon Narzum came and sat beside her, offering her water.

Narzum waited for her to drink, and thank him. He asked her quietly, before her needle could pierce the leather again, "What's going on, Halla? I've never seen Maukurz so quiet and miserable. I've never… well, never known you two not to be like happy little jackrabbits. So something's real wrong."

Halla swallowed tears. "I don't know what's going on," she said quietly, sewing again. "I don't know if Baby's sick or well, I don't know how this will end… And as for the other thing… he doesn't want to hurt me. He thinks he hurt me, and Baby."

"He didn't?"

She looked to him, stricken, fear all about her. "I don't know. There was blood. Not a lot, but enough to scare us both. It stopped… But I have no way of knowing if… if my baby died."

Narzum sucked his teeth softly, not sure if he should talk to her honestly. He decided to chance it, as it seemed wrong to hold back from her. "I didn't know you could have his baby like this, Halla. I was a whole lot of surprised when you came here, already breeding. But Shatauz said you know someone who had an Uruk's baby outside the Tower, without the wizard. So if this other sharlob did it, wouldn't you be able to?"

Halla shrugged lightly, and wiped a tear away. "I do know a woman... But she would have had help, and I'm here alone."

"How can we help?"

"You can't, Narzum, and I wouldn't know what to tell you to do anyway. I've never even seen a woman have a baby. I've seen a horse, not that it's any help at all."

"You know what to do with a baby once it's here? Maukurz says he's gonna be tiny, like one of your kind's biddy little whelps."

"Yes… He will be small, and I can care for him. That much, I think, I can do well. Keep him clean and fed and loved. But… Well, there's two ways to look at it. One is that women have had babies forever, and surely some have done it without help. Surely this is the way our bodies are meant to work, even if it is quite dangerous for us. The other way… is that women die all the time, and so do babies, and of course… How much harder will his baby be? How much bigger? I don't rightly know. I suppose I just hoped everything would be all right. I suppose… I was just so amazed by how… how I felt with Maukurz, even just talking to him…" She shook her head, shutting her eyes at her own foolishness. "I did try not to get pregnant, but once I was, things happened so fast where I lived, I was just so glad to get away! Am I so stupid? I might die now."

"Don't do that," Narzum said, making a face. "You'll mess him up good if you die, believe me. What about this woman you know, who knows about having Uruk whelps? Maybe Baiurz would understand if you needed her to come up here. She a friend? Keep her mouth shut about us, and help you get Baby out?"

"I don't think so," Halla said, shaking her head, tying the the sinew thread and biting it off. She held the finished blanket up critically, and decided it would do nicely to keep Baby warm. If he had not died. There was no way to know. Halla sighed, folding the swaddling blanket and setting it on her lap. "Narzum… that woman hates me, and she's hard as nails. If I died having Baby she'd call it just what I earned. Besides, she didn't have her own babe willingly, as I'm sure you can understand. Even if she would help me, it'd be like me sticking needles in her eyes."

"And you wouldn't stick needles in someone's eyes to save yourself?" Narzum asked, gazing at her as if she was the most peculiar thing he'd ever seen.

Halla managed a small smile. "I don't have the right to ask it of her, Narzum. And she'd tell on us besides. She told on me already."

"Told about us?" Narzum asked urgently. "Maukurz never said anything about that!"

"She doesn't have any idea you all are here. What she knows is that I met Maukurz in the woods, and that… Well, she caught us together." Halla grimaced at the memory. "I don't even like to think about her," she admitted softly. "I don't like to think about any women who you—who you all—in the War. But especially not her. No, I wouldn't want her delivering Baby. Not at all."

Narzum was regarding her with sad eyes. The Uruks, Halla had learned, could play deceitful with each other, but usually their emotions were all over their faces. Especially Maukurz, with his vivid golden eyes. And now Narzum most certainly thought Halla and Baby were goners. "You'll be fine," he lied. "You have to be. It would be real fucked up of you to come up here all shining and pretty, promising us a future, and then to just go and die on us. So don't be so fucking selfish, eh?"

Halla laughed softly through tears. "I'll do my best."

Maukurz came in a moment later, a thin deer over his shoulders. He was followed by the two other Uruks who had arms full of wet wood that they dumped by the fire. Maukurz slipped the deer down to the ground, and came to kneel beside Halla, his eyes to the floor guiltily. "You feelin' better now?"

Halla nodded, and closed her eyes as he brushed his mouth over hers, then held her for a moment, breathing her in. "I finished another blanket," she told him. "Baby will be warm when he comes."

She heard his breath catch in her ear, felt him nod against her neck. Halla tightened her arms around Maukurz. "You didn't do anything wrong…" she told him, but his hard, tense body told her he wasn't forgiving himself.

When he pulled away, Narzum said, "Gotta talk to you, big brother."

"Sure. Later." Maukurz lifted Halla carefully, and carried her back to their bed. He lit several candles and banked earth around them, then disappeared around the sheet for a few long moments, returning with her plate full of the raw organ meat that he pressed on her each time he hunted. As disgusted as Halla felt eating it, she knew almost instantly that her body, and the baby, craved this.

Halla felt that her appetite was a good sign. Maukurz brought her steak cooked as she liked it next, and they ate quietly together. It was strange, now, that he—so suddenly—wouldn't sleep with her. She could see that he wanted her, she could feel him hard against her in the mornings especially, but he was denying himself any form of pleasure with her. After their passionate beginning, Halla missed the intimacy. She understood why, of course, and that she'd not bled again, it was obviously sensible to do.

Yet at the same time as she was fearful for Baby's health and safety, she was terrified for herself. She needed the reassurance of his touch, and when he looked at her, Halla knew it was the same for him. They came together without words, kissing softly until Halla ran her hands up under his kilt, grabbing his hard cock. "I could kiss it…" she whispered.

Maukurz tightened up, pulling away from her. "No. Not a good idea right now."

"But I miss you…" Halla pleaded.

He closed his eyes, let himself rest against her for a moment. Then he pulled away and sat behind her, and with shaking hands undid the laces of her worn, tearing dress. Halla closed her eyes to feel Maukurz's hands smoothing over her shoulders and back; she thought she might expect what he would do, which, she thought, was surely no danger…

But Maukurz instead gently pushed her long hair over her shoulders. His strong hands gripped softly on her back, massaging her carefully the way she'd once done it for him. Halla sighed, relaxing easily in his hands.

"I don't want to lose you," he told her quietly as he worked the tension out of her back. "I don't want to lose Baby. I don't care what it costs me. You don't know… I've… I can hurt you, Halla. And seeing you hurt… It made me remember things that I found out I'd rather forget. Only this time it's you…"

"But there's other things we can do…"

"I know that," he said, laughing softly, brushing her hair away and nipping her neck lightly. "I taught you, remember? But see… I ain't gonna die from givin' my cock a rest for once, you know? And I do want to do… all those things… with you. But I gotta get that picture out of my head first: you hurt and bleeding, because of me. I want you for life, Halla. Not just to fuck. I gotta see you well before I can see myself on top of you… And I don't know how to make you well. All I know how to do is fuck you up: get you pregnant when you didn't want to be, and make you bleed."

"Maukurz…" she breathed, tears in her eyes. "That's not true."

"Shh, Halla, no. Don't tell me it ain't true when it is. I know what the fuck I am. Just come close, and let me hold you, and let that be enough for now."

In the middle of February the sap began to flow, and the weather on the plains beneath the mountains broke fair. Edwyn shut the bedroom window, and had his manservant ready one of his better riding outfits. The next day, and the day after, he did the same. On the following foggy morning, Edwyn saw a party of soldiers trotting down the lane. He returned to the hall and took a seat by the fire, a journal of Finnan's herd in his hands, which blurred his hungover eyes but looked suitable enough. Soon enough, a captain of Gondor knocked on the door, accompanied by an older, veteran rider with a long scar through his left cheek that twitched his mouth in an angry-looking manner.

"Lord Birchleigh?" the Rider asked.

Edwyn smiled courteously, rising from his chair. "I am Edwyn son of Edric the Tall, veteran captain of the Eastmark. Birchleigh is as a brother to me, and I am looking after his interests while he serves King Elessar in the Southlands."

The Rider grimaced, obviously his smile. "I know Edric the Tall. My name is Gerard of Colton. We fought together as younger Men. Now I hunt Orcs to keep fit. How does your father?"

"Very well, thank you," Edwyn said, neverminding his father's gout and rheumatism. "Have you broken your fast yet? And your Men?"

"We're on official business," the Gondorian responded, before Gerard could speak. "We as well serve the King of Men, and we are to respond to reported sightings of Orcs in this region. Lord Birchleigh holds lands around the mountains, and we are required to inform him that we will be crossing his lands, and at times camping on them, as we execute our mission."

"Orcs here?" Edwyn asked, shaking his head. "Not anymore. We had a few—oh, perhaps five of various ragged sorts—attempting passage in the summertime. We dealt with it. Have you communicated with Marshall Erkenbrand at all? He might reassure you that this area is safe. Even the louts from Dunland have been quiet."

"Runners from Dunland brought word to our scouts before the first snows came that they'd captured and killed an Uruk," Gerard told Edwyn. "Said it had menaced one of their women. You might let the new villagers by the mountain know."

Edwyn frowned slightly.

"Master Edwyn," the Gondorian said, "We don't anticipate much trouble in this area. The Uruks were mostly destroyed, and much of the rabble of Mordor have scattered into the southern mountain ranges. But we believe a fair number of that kind is attempting to reach the wild lands in the north. There have been incidents not so far to the north of here, gruesome incidents. So we would occupy this land, for a time, from Isengard, in the name of King Elessar. We will organize regular roaming patrols. We understand Birchleigh has a logging operation underway, resuming in the spring, and we don't mean to interfere with his affairs. We'll not graze our horses overmuch on his land, should we need to camp nearby. We are authorized to do so regardless, but we have come to serve warning."

Gerard grimaced—a true grimace this time—at the clipped tone of the officer from Gondor. Edwyn pinched his lips slightly, regarding the captain coolly.

"You will let me know if I can be of further assistance," Edwyn replied, walking towards the door.

"We shall, Master Edwyn. Good day."

"A blessing on your father, young master," Gerard said politely, and the two turned to leave.

Edwyn sat down by the fire, gazing on the two hounds sleeping comfortably. "Wake up, lazy mutts. You've some trees to piss on."

The hounds whined and ran out of the thick pine grove. A moment later Halla's Uruk came walking out of the darkness behind them, his gold eyes flickering about for an ambush. He was warmly dressed this time, in patchy buckskin trousers and a heavy fur-lined tunic. His long black hair was braided down his back. There was something distinctly different him, too. Edwyn might have thought he looked older. No… he looked as if he was burdened with care for the very first time, maybe more even than Edwyn had ever been.

But Maukurz was reluctant, too. Untrusting, creeping through the snow. He could have sprung into action in a moment.

Edwyn, whose feet were frozen after a spending most of the day letting the dogs stink up a good part of the mountain, showed Maukurz his empty hands.

Maukurz stopped before the trim neat looking warrior of Rohan. "What do you want?"

"To let you know there are soldiers coming soon. I doubt they'll go high into the mountains, but they'll be doing regular patrols. You'll want to watch for them, so that you can know when to expect them. And of course, you should always be wary. Extremely wary, especially as the weather warms. And move as high as you can."

"I've heard of them. Thank you, though. I will be careful."

Edwyn nodded. "Is she well?"

Maukurz sighed deeply. "Better now." Then the Uruk smiled such a small but tender smile that Edwyn was shaken. "Baby moves, kicks her, kicks my hands. For a while we thought we'd lost him. But he is strong, and big! I wonder, though… if Baby's not getting too big. I have no idea, and it's... it's bad trouble for us."

"Yes," Edwyn said with quiet empathy. "I don't suppose you would have any idea about it. My mother used to terrify me when she was pregnant with my younger sisters. I thought she might burst in two. But everything worked out fine, most of the time. Now, Halla isn't due… Well, let me see… not before May…"

Maukurz shrugged. He did not know the names of months. "Two more full moons. When the third one comes, that's when Halla says she'll have Baby. But I don't know how to help her," he admitted, a quiet shudder in his voice. "And she doesn't know what to do. She is afraid."

By the look in his eyes, the Uruk was afraid as well. And right you should be, Edwyn thought. Edwyn frowned, poking the toe of his boot into the snow. "I doubt I can do any more than pester some village midwife—a woman who delivers many babies—to tell me about how to prepare for a big baby, and what you'll need on hand to take care of them both. But that is all I. It is a crazy thing you two have done; I can only hope she has a safe, normal delivery. There are many things that can go wrong, Maukurz. You should be warned."

"I know this," Maukurz growled quietly. "I don't expect anything good. But if you can help me… Her…" Here the Uruk looked at him with unnerving openness, his face a conflicting mixture of desperate resignation.

It was a horrible picture that Edwyn saw: Halla lying in some dark hidden place, deathly white, bled out on the floor. Edwyn shook his head, trying to find some reason to believe that Halla had a good chance of surviving. Could Finnan not have watched over her better, preventing this end? Should I have forced her to get rid of it? Tricked her into drinking the right tea, and so saved her life?

The thought made Edwyn feel cold inside. "Give me a few days. I'll try to round up something, even if it's just words of wisdom. In the meantime, keep her warm and smiling. If anything… I suppose that's what truly matters."

"I know," Maukurz said. "I'll be watching out for you, rủk-goth."

"Give me three nights, Maukurz, and then I'll come back. And give Halla my love."

Edwyn spun around, calling the hounds, climbing through the snow as the Uruk stood in the shadows, watching him with haunted eyes.