Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

Author's note: This gets a bit funny at the end, I know. I'm so sorry, I could not resist.

*****

Three weeks later, Celebrían and Morwinyon go for a walk in the gardens. "It is so different here from Lothlorien," Celebrían says as the stroll alongside a bed of roses. "There was something wild about Lothlorien, unplanned, yet it had not the hustle and bustle of life, of people going about things, that we have here in Imladris. There nature was all around you, while here nature is confined, but so is society. I love the home of my childhood, and that of my adulthood, as well."

"Hm," says Morwinyon, nodding and lifting one eyebrow. She clutches the ends of the sleeves of her black sweater, warmer than is necessary in the early-winter's chill, and follows her sister. A blackbird flies overhead, calling out to them. "I have a letter for you, Celebrían," Morwinyon says. "It is from Mother." She takes this letter from a pocket in the skirts of her dress and passes it to Celebrían, then slips both hands into her pockets. Celebrían reads the letter as the girls walk onwards.

My dear Celebrían,

I have sent word with your sister, and hope you will not be angry for my tardiness in informing you: Celeborn and I will not be visiting Imladris this winter. We cannot leave Lothlorien at this time.

And for a time the letter continued as such, explaining that they hoped it would be acceptable for them to visit in the spring, then changing. After the first few paragraphs, it was a letter from a loving mother to a dear daughter grown to womanhood all too soon for the mother's liking. At last it finished up, saying that Galadriel sent her love and hoped the boys were well, and could not wait to see the whole family again in the springtime, conditions permitting. "You ran away, Morwinyon," Celebrían says once she has finished reading the letter. "You told me you did not!" her voice holds her hurt and betrayal.

"No! Mama knows, I swear it, Celebrían! Think you not that she gave me that letter for you? I did not run!" replies Morwinyon. "Look here--" and, motioning to the letter, she reads, "I trust your sister will suffice this winter, as she carries with her the love we bear for you and yours."

"I am sorry, Morwinyon, you are right; I should not have called your honour into question. Forgive me?"

"Of course." Suddenly Morwinyon gasps. She places a hand on her belly, which is just beginning to swell.

"Morwinyon, what is it?" asks Celebrían, worried, and she holds her sister by the hand.

"I think. . .I feel my child," she says in awe.

"Is it kicking?" asks Celebrían, and Morwinyon nods. Tears spring to the younger girl's eyes, and she collapses onto a nearby bench, hiding her face in her hands. "Oh, Morwinyon," Celebrían says in an understanding tone, rubbing her sister's back. "It will be all right. There is nothing to worry about; if you wish I will foster the little one, it will have a home."

"But I am selfish, Celebrían," replies Morwinyon, "and would raise the child myself. And it is so shameful. . .before, I simply pretended it was not growing within me, but I can no longer deny it. I feel it ever, I am growing also. Now I cannot hide it. A child conceived out of wedlock grows within me. Who can I look in the eyes? Who would claim me as family now?"

Celebrían does not remember when Morwinyon first came to Lothlorien forest. She remembers a time before Morwinyon, but does not remember the actual arrival of the youngster. "I would," she replies fiercely. "You think this changes anything? You are still my sister, and my boys are still your nephews. You think Elrond has stopped referring to you as his own sister?"

"He what?"

"Oh, it has been going on since the twins were born. Honestly, Morwinyon! Yes, what you have done is disgraceful, but you need not worry for it! Those that love you will not abandon you, and in such circumstances you are not in the wrong!" For a long time Celebrían holds her sister, and for as long a time Morwinyon cries.

*****

But not every one is as forgiving as those that love her. The more she shows, the more Morwinyon becomes secure with the child growing within her. She heals with an unnatural resilience from the emotional wounds done to her, soon allowing physical contact with Elrond and the young twins as well as Celebrían. Morwinyon holds her head high as she walks, trying not to feel terrible when mothers turn the heads of their young ones away from her. There are four mothers in Imladris with young children, and three of them scoff and whisper that Celebrían even lets Morwinyon near her little ones!

The snows have fallen when, one night in the library, Morwinyon begins to feel that her annoyance is too much. It was, after all, not her fault. Yes, she had been foolish, but not so much that any blame could fairly be placed upon her head. As she sits by the fire reading, she hears someone enter. Noticing the Elves by the fire, Glorfindel says, "Good evening, Celebrían."

"Good evening, Glorfindel!" calls Celebrían, who sits beside her sister. Morwinyon shudders at the way his eyes slide over her and turn to the shelves, searching for a particular volume. "How do you fare on this day?"

"Well, and you, Celebrían?" he replies without turning to look at them. The women both know he is trying not to look at Morwinyon.

"I fare well." She returns to her earlier task of embroidery, and after a time of silence places her hand over Morwinyon's sympathetically. Morwinyon can feel her temper rising.

"Good evening, Lord Glorfindel," says Morwinyon.

He cannot ignore her now; that would be blatant rudeness, not an under- handed jab. "Good evening," he says, nodding to her without looking at her.

"Why do you not look at me, my lord?" asks Morwinyon. "Surely you know me? I am Lady Celebrían's sister."

"Yes, I--I do know you."

"Then why do you not look at me?"

"Lady, I think you do not need me to answer that. In all respect," Glorfindel says uncomfortably.

Playing the coy, innocent youth, Morwinyon replies, "But I do need you to answer that, Glorfindel. No one seems to see me any more and I worry I have gone all invisible. Can't you see me?"

"If you wish to be seen, perhaps you should not have done a thing so--so-- so wrong!" he erupts, whirling to face her.

"What have I done?"

"You have given yourself to a man out of wedlock and come out of it alone and with his child!"

"But Glorfindel, by ignoring me what do you hope to achieve? I am not going to go away."

"You, child, are a rude, impudent, perverse blemish to our society here, and I sincerely hope that you do go away and leave us our peace!" And with an indignant "hpmh!", Glorfindel turns on his heel and strides from the room.

"Morwinyon." Celebrían begins, but Morwinyon only yawns and shakes her head.

"I think I will retire for the night, Celebrían. Pleasant dreams, sister, and I shall see you on the morrow," says Morwinyon, standing and stretching.

"All right. . .pleasant dreams, sister," Celebrían echoes, and lightly grasps her sister's hand, then their grip slides away from each other.

The next day Glorfindel apologizes, saying that he spoke out of anger and did not mean what he said. Like a lady should, Morwinyon accepts his apology. Her heart does not agree. She knows that what he said in the heat of passion is what he truly meant, and she will not be quick to forget it. So this lord wishes her to leave Imladris. May it be: she will, however, not be complying.

*****

The winter frosts are melting, and Celebrían and Morwinyon walk once more through the gardens, alone with the edelweiss and the red, red roses that grow every winter in Imladris. They do not speak, but walk quietly together, each thinking her own thoughts. Suddenly Morwinyon utters a word of surprise, and then she asks, "Celebrían, what is it like to have a child? How do you. . .how does one know when. . .when it is coming?"

"First your water breaks. It seems as though you have lost control of your bladder, when this happens. . .why are you asking me this?"

"Celebrían, I think we need to go back inside," Morwinyon replies.

Minutes later they are in Morwinyon's bedroom. The young girl is lying on the bed, waiting, worrying. Her sister stands by her side, holding her hand. Her brother kneels beside her, calming her. "Breathe, Morwinyon, you have to breathe," Elrond tells her. "You cannot hyperventilate, not now." Addressing his wife, he asks, "Where is the midwife?"

"How can I say? Encirith went for her near fifteen minutes past," Celebrían replies. Encirith had been the first person Celebrían saw, and she had asked him to run for the midwife. He has gone, and has yet to return.

"He had better hurry back; this child is eager to enter the world!" Morwinyon exclaims, gasping for air. "I cannot simply wait!"

Celebrían looks to Elrond and raises an eyebrow. "You do it," she tells him.

"What?" asks Elrond, looking away from Morwinyon and to Celebrían. "I am a healer, not a midwife!"

"Well you are the closest thing to a midwife we have at hand right now!" Celebrían replies in a snippy tone.

"I am not sure Morwinyon would be comfortable with me--"

"I care not, but some body deliver this child!" Morwinyon interrupts. Celebrían silently urges her husband to do so, and with a choked sigh Elrond moves to the end of the bed, saying, "Celebrían, you had better go and get some clean blankets or some such thing. But hurry; I will need you here. Morwinyon, just. . .wait a minute." Celebrían nods and hurries out of the room.

"I can't wait a minute! This child is coming now!" she shouts.

"Then push!" Elrond shouts back. To his surprise Morwinyon complies at once. "Oh, no. . .Celebrían!" Elrond calls. "This is happening quicker than I would like!" Moments later she rushes into the room with an armload of blankets. With a look and a swear, she pulls one from the pile and readies it. Morwinyon can feel her muscles straining as she pushes for all she is worth, and then, all at once, she feels the pressure relieved. A baby's cry splits the air. Morwinyon falls back onto the pillows, exhausted. Celebrían wraps the little child in a blanket and shushes him, cooing gently. As her head lolls to one side, Morwinyon watches the first leaf of new spring cling to an otherwise naked tree, a vibrant green, promising eternal renewal. . .

"Morwinyon," says Celebrían. The girl is brought back to reality. Elrond is cleaning up, leaving the two women as much privacy as possible. The elder sister sits beside the younger on the bed and switches the baby to one arm, brushing strands of sweat-soaked hair away from her cherry-red face. In a gentle tone she asks, "Will you hold your little one, or shall I put him to bed?"

"Let me hold him," Morwinyon replies, easing herself into a sitting position. She takes the little bundle from Celebrían, and cannot help but smile at him. Though covered mostly by the fuzzy blue blanket, his pudgy fists and face are visible. His skin is red from the womb. Morwinyon cannot help but think that he is perfect, button-nosed and satin-lipped with clear blue eyes and a tuft of blonde hair already apparent on his head. He takes after his mother; it is as clear as day, although his hair is a shade lighter. His fists flail around aimlessly as he gurgles, unable to speak. "My little one," she whispers, running a finger along his cheek. He begins to whimper, and Morwinyon hushes him. His fists find her, and he wraps his hands around her finger.

"Has he a name?" asks Celebrían.

Morwinyon's eyes stray away, out the window to the nearly-naked tree, shivering in the wind. "Legolas," she replies. "My little Green Leaf."

Just then the peace that has settled over the room ends abruptly as Encirith returns, skidding to a halt. "I bid the midwife come as soon as she could," he says. "She is not well, and asks that you go to her."

"Thank you, Encirith, the job is done. Would it be awful to ask you to carry this message to her?" Celebrían asks.

"No, Lady," says Encirith, and is gone again at once. Then a high shouting comes into the room, as Elladan and Elrohir hurry in, chasing one another. "Ammë!" they cry, rushing over to her. " Ammë, me an' Elladan were--"

"You should not be here!" Elrond exclaims, turning to gather up the twins and take them out of the room. Unfortunately, they manage to evade his grasp, shrieking as he stumbles to catch them. Celebrían and Morwinyon laugh, and little Legolas shrieks. Morwinyon calms him, laughing.

"Lady Celebrían--" she looks up to see Glorfindel standing in the door way. "Perhaps this is not the best time to tell you, Lady, but your parents are riding into Imladris as we speak. I thought you should know."

*****

TBC