Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, and all its characters, races, and creatures, as well as our beloved Middle Earth, belongs to JRR Tolkien.
"Must you hover so?" Aragorn asked in frustration. "Could I be alone with my son for even ten minutes?"
"I am sorry, Aragorn," I answered, ashamed. "I will leave you now. I will be in the Healing Halls with Haldan should I be needed."
This scene had played itself out for at least the fourth time this morning—the very first day of Aragorn's visit to Imladris. I quickly left him with Leofa, my heart crying out that this was wrong, but I could not listen to it—it was my heart that was wrong, and I knew it. I made my way to the infirmary, my back stiff and my head held high, trying to keep the tears in my eyes where they belonged. I willed myself not to weep. I had been without tears for weeks now—until last night with Aragorn's appearance. I wanted not to revert back into old habits—old tiresome habits that had been hard to break.
I entered the wards, keeping my resolve. No tears ran down my face. But I must have looked as if the world were ending. Haldan rushed over to me, extending his arms. I fell into my dear friend's embrace, clinging to him as if he could save me from being devoured by some fell beast. He held me close, stroking my back and crooning to me—asking me why Aragorn's visit was upsetting me so terribly.
Haldan finally led me to a set of table and chairs where we often sat and took meals when we worked here in the wards together.
"Maeren," he asked, his face full of concern, "do you love him? Is that it? Will it be too hard to see him leave when he goes?"
I laughed bleakly; this idea was so far from the truth, it was hysterical to me.
"No, Haldan," I answered when I finally could. "I do not love him—the thoughts of him terrify me—I almost hate him, truth be known!"
"Maeren!" Haldan said with astonishment. "That surprises me greatly. Hate is an emotion I would never associate with you. You do not look to have it within your heart to hate. What causes you to think such a thing, let alone say it?"
I looked down at my hands, feeling a little chastised by what Haldan had just said.
"I am afraid of Aragorn, Haldan," I admitted. "He is a very powerful man. I am but one small, insignificant woman, and he could have my son away from me in a heartbeat, if he so chose. You know how I constantly fight the fear of losing Leofa. To have him wrested from me by his father would be no easier than watching death take him from me, Haldan."
"Maeren, Maeren, be reasonable!" Haldan said in a chiding voice. "Estel would never dream of taking Leofa away from his mother—the thought would never even occur to him—you must believe me."
"Have you discussed this with him since he has become King, Haldan?" I asked, anger creeping into my voice. "Have you even spoken to him at all since he has returned?"
"I have spoken to him today, but briefly," he admitted, "though not about this subject. But, with your leave, I will do just that."
"Certainly you have my leave to do so," I said. "Any and all of you have my leave to discuss this with him. I will discuss this with him as well. I want him to know that he cannot have Leofa, no matter if he is the King of Gondor—even if he were Eru, himself, I would not give him my child!"
"Maeren," Haldan softly scolded me, "you are becoming hysterical. You must calm yourself. I had no idea you had all this terror dammed up within your heart. And you are right. That is exactly what you must do. You must march your little self back into the house and right up to Estel, and voice these things you have just said to me—but to him. Hand the baby to the handiest Elf, take Estel by the hand and go somewhere private where you both may scream at each other, if it comes to that. Have it out with the man, lady! You must be at peace! This is tearing your heart to shreds!"
"You are right, Haldan," I finally told him, after a few moments of contemplating the matter. "It is time I finally put my worries to rest, and the only way to do that is to confront Aragorn with the question—is he or is he not going to take my son from me?" I rose from my chair. "Thank you, friend. Ever is your head level and your counsel wise."
"Ever should you never forget that little gem of wisdom," Haldan quipped, and then he smiled his angel's smile.
I left him sitting at the table and made my way back to Elrond's house, back to the room where I had left my son in his father's care. As soon as Aragorn saw me walking toward him, he rolled his eyes unkindly; I tried not to let my anger rise. I had it coming. I had been tormenting the man with my presence since dawn, and it was almost time for midday meal.
I did exactly as Haldan had advised. I took Leofa from a very surprised Aragorn and walked away from him, knowing he would follow me. I went to the library, expecting Elrond would certainly be there, and held Leofa out to his 'grandfather', who gladly opened his arms to accept the bundle of joy.
"Would you be so kind as to cuddle this sweet child while I have a long overdue word with his father?" I asked the Elf lord.
Elrond's eyebrows rose in fascination, but he asked me no questions, he merely agreed.
"May we use your study for our discussion?" I asked him.
Elrond didn't hesitate. "Please do," was all he said.
Again I led the way, walking briskly to hide my quaking knees. I was very afraid—mostly afraid I would break down and weep and rail at the King in my fear. I wanted not to appear vulnerable. That would only strengthen his position.
As soon as he had entered the room and turned to face me, I closed the door and confronted him in turn.
"What is this all about, Maeren?" he asked me. He wasted no time in letting me know he was angry. He got right to it. "Last night you would have killed me had you a dagger in your hand, and this morning you stood over me as I held our son, acting as if you feared for his life in my hands. What exactly is your problem?"
"I wish to know your intentions, now that our son is born," I explained. I tried to keep my voice even and calm. I wished to seem neither haughty nor attacking—only self-assured.
"My intentions?" he asked. "What they ever were. To have my son nearby—somehow. To know him. For him to know me—and Arwen—and any children we may have. What I told you before."
"That tells me not enough," I admitted. "I must ask you flat out. I have feared since I learned I was carrying your child that your intentions would ultimately be to have control of him. Are my fears founded—or not?"
"Have control of him?" he asked, as if confused.
"I fear you will take him from me, Aragorn!" I exclaimed, though not loudly. "Do you plan this or not?"
He did not speak for a few moments; in fact, he turned his back to me. He strolled to the window to gaze down into the valley. Whether he saw the beauty there or not, I could not say.
"I will not lie to you, Maeren," he said quietly. "The thought crossed my mind a time or two."
I felt my heart leap into my throat and then plunge to my feet. I wished for an Elf, to perhaps revive me from the faint I felt coming on.
He turned back to me, and continued speaking. "However, when I would think it completely through, there was no possible way I could take Leofa from you. It is an unconscionable thing for anyone to take a child from its mother, but for it to be done to you would be doubly so. I remember what you told me in the garden, about your son who had died. I could not take your baby away from you, knowing that you had already lost a child. You must not hold me in any esteem at all, if you think me capable of that."
"If you truly mean what you are saying, Aragorn, I could hold you in very great esteem," I said, smiling wanly at him finally. "I have been terrified of you taking Leofa from me for so long, it has even tormented my sleep. Even before he was born I was having nightmares of your treachery!" Aragorn chuckled at the choice of the words I used in describing him. "My fear has built you up to monstrous proportions in my mind—that is the cause for all of the hovering I have been doing. I am not sure I can simply turn my fear off as one would blow out a candle, but I promise you, that I will try my best to overcome this obsession I have. I am sorry for causing you such anger, Aragorn, and I sincerely meant not to offend you. I did not start out hating you, you know. Quite the contrary."
"It seemed not like hate at the time," he said one eyebrow quirked at a devilish angle. He gave me a wry smile.
I blushed and looked down to the floor. He walked toward me slowly and when he reached me, his long fingers beneath my chin raised my face so that I had to look at him.
He looked at me with Leofa's eyes and said, "I want there to be peace between us, Maeren—for our son's sake, at least."
"As do I, Aragorn," I told him. "And I promise to try. It should be easier now, that this issue has been settled—that is, unless you change your mind. You do not intend to change your mind, do you?"
His hands dropped noisily to his sides, and he let out an exasperated sigh. I laughed so he'd know I'd been teasing him, and he joined me finally, shaking his head.
"Sometimes your sense of humor leaves me guessing, my lady," he groused good-naturedly.
"I will try to go easy on you, my lord," I replied smartly. "Now, let us go back and fetch your son, so that you may have him for the rest of the day. I will only intrude when he calls me for meals."
"I would like that immensely, though you do not have to stay away," he said sincerely. "Just don't stand over me like I might break him. Otherwise, I care not if you are with us. Truly."
"Either way, I will not hover," I said as I opened the door, wanting to escape what seemed like the suddenly tight confines of Elrond's study. "I suppose now you must fight Elrond for possession of Leofa—that in itself might be quite a battle."
Aragorn laughed. "He is enraptured by the child, is he not?"
"All the Elves are, but Elrond in particular adores him. And he sails for The Undying Lands soon. One more person to leave behind—" I suddenly realized just whom I had spoken to, and I quickly apologized. "I am sorry Aragorn, I meant not to—"
"Worry not," he interrupted me, "Arwen and I have made our peace with it. Elrond has too, in his own way. All will be well."
I silently nodded and walked on ahead to the library. On entering, I stopped in my tracks. Elrond was seated at his desk, with Leofa on top of it nestled in a blanket. The Elf lord was tickling the child's feet with the end of one of his braids. The baby was laughing the little belly laugh that only babies can do, and the scene warmed my heart to near melting. Aragorn had stopped right behind me; I could feel his breath on my neck, he was standing so near. He chuckled deeply as he took in the scene before him.
I continued into the room, laughing as I moved closer to two of the people I held dearest in this world. I stopped beside them, beaming down into their two delighted faces.
"Very ticklish is this wee one," Elrond said in explanation of their playtime. His face was radiating joy. The love he had for the child was as obvious as if he had a sign painted across his forehead.
"Apparently," I replied around my smile. I reached down to stroke my son's cheek. How I love him.
Elrond sat Leofa up, being careful of his still wobbly head and kissed his grandson on the nose.
"Tis time for you to go to your Ada, child. I want not to give you up, but he's here for a very short while, and he wants to cuddle you while he may. Up you go now, little one." Elrond pulled Leofa gently into his arms, cradling him to his chest as he stood. He walked to Aragorn and lay Leofa into his father's arms as the man held them out to accept his son. As the Elf relinquished his hold on the baby, Leofa began to fuss. When Elrond walked out of the child's range of vision, the baby's wail grew louder. Aragorn began to rock Leofa and sing to him, although it was slightly off key. It was to no avail, however, for the child's crying grew louder.
"It happens every time," I said frowning at the grinning Elf lord. "You must distract him in some way, Aragorn. Take him out of the room. Be sure and bundle him up well, and you could visit the stables. He loves the horses. That would certainly do it." Aragorn gave Elrond an exaggerated frown, then thanked me and left the room. I heaved a large sigh, and then turned to face the Lord of Imladris.
"You are shameless, you know that, don't you?" I asked the Elf lord.
"Quite shameless," he admitted, "and I love every minute of it!"
I strolled to the window and looked out at the scenery, even though I did not see the loveliness stretching out before me. I was lost in thought; therefore I was just the smallest bit startled when Elrond's voice quietly spoke into my ear a few minutes later.
"Did your discussion set your mind at ease, young one?" Elrond rested his hands upon my shoulders.
"Somewhat," I replied. "No," I emended, "more than somewhat; though I would be lying if I told you I was completely at ease. Leofa is still very young, and long years of his life yet stretch ahead. Aragorn could still change his mind and challenge my right to have Leofa with me. Something I do may not sit right with him, and he may decide he could better raise his son. For now, though, while Leofa is young, I feel confident that Aragorn will see fit to leave him with his mother."
Elrond dropped a kiss upon my cheek. "I am glad if your heart is eased, even a small bit. You have been tormenting yourself for far too long." The Lord of Imladris gave me a hug from behind, then retreated to his desk once more and seated himself and set to his work.
I watched him for a few moments. Come the springtime, Leofa and I would be off to Minas Tirith and Rohan, I expected. Just what we would tell people of how Leofa came about I hadn't a clue so far; I would have to set Haldan to work on it. That seemed something right along his line of thinking. He would be able to come up with an explanation that, while not technically a lie, was close enough to the truth, that I would be able to say it without feeling ashamed or misleading.
Elrond told me at one time that we would all set out at once—those Elves sailing would go their way, and Leofa and I, with an escort, would go our own way as well. We would say our goodbyes here in Imladris. He wanted no tearful dockside farewells. I thought it for the best myself. If there was one thing I hated, it was a public scene where I was blubbering my heart out for the world to see and hear, and I had no doubt that I would be doing just that.
Elrond was not the only one who would be losing people dear to him. He was leaving Leofa and me, and we were both going to miss him terribly. It was going to feel as if we had suffered a death in our family. We would never see him again. I had grown to love Elrond with all of my heart. There was no doubt of that—none at all. When he sailed to The Undying Lands, he would be taking a piece of my heart right along with him. It would take some time for my heart to heal from the wound he would leave. There was no doubt of that either.
And the wound Haldan's leaving would inflict on me did not even bear thinking about!
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"Allow me," Aragorn held his arms out to take Leofa. I hesitated, having just lifted the baby from my breast. He needed burping, and I hardly felt Aragorn was up to the task.
As Leofa grew, he'd become quite a greedy suckler, and he swallowed more air than he ought when he nursed. The result was hardly pleasant; most times, if the one burping him wasn't on his or her toes, they ended up with a lap full of milk, or a shoulder drenched quite thoroughly with it.
"Oh I think not, Aragorn," I answered him, "perhaps in awhile."
"Quit being this way, Maeren," Aragorn fussed at me. "Give me my son. I believe I can burp a baby. It cannot be as difficult as all that, now can it?"
I looked past the smug King at Elrond, who quirked a brow and nearly laughed. I smirked as well, picturing the haughty King with milk, which had been spit up, dripping down his back and his arm. Leofa could get quite forceful with the range he could reach—he made quite a spout of himself at times.I was feeling just contrary enough, that I smiled sweetly at Aragorn, and let him have his way and his son. I carefully handed Leofa—minding his wobbly head—over to his father for burping. Do your best stuff kid.
It was after the evening meal, and we were sitting in the library. This was Leofa's final feeding before putting him to bed for the night. I was quite surprised with this child. He had begun sleeping through the night just last week. Technically, he shouldn't have been born until last week, so he shouldn't be sleeping through the night for several weeks yet. Against my better judgment, Haldan and Elrond had insisted that I start Leofa on a special blend of cereal grains mixed with goat's milk two weeks ago, to which they added several of the little known herbs I had never encountered until I had come to Imladris. Not only had Leofa gained weight more rapidly, he had become brighter eyed and bushier tailed—and he slept through the night much quicker, thanks be! I owe the Elves much, to be sure—the least of which would not be several good night's sleeps.
Aragorn propped sweet little Leofa against his kingly shoulder and commenced thumping him on the back between the shoulder blades. No sounds came forth from the child, his head merely gyrated on the skinny axis of his little neck. So the King continued for a few minutes longer, increasing the pressure of the whacks, thinking that may dislodge the air within the body of his son. Leofa stubbornly held on to the pocket of air that was surely hiding beneath the roiling liquid in his stomach, waiting to emerge at just the right time. I could see the frustration building behind Aragorn's eyes.I held my hands out in silent offer to take Leofa off the King's hands, but Aragorn shook his head in stubborn refusal. I smiled slyly and shrugged. I had tried, and that was all I could do.
Aragorn continued to pat the back of the baby for a few more minutes, until Leofa grew restive and began to fuss. The King was becoming frustrated, to be sure. I tried very hard to contain my laughter—indeed to keep from smiling at all, because Aragorn's face was starting to resemble a storm cloud. He was becoming embarrassed over not being able to accomplish something—in his mind, at least—that was so simple. He finally lowered Leofa into his lap, with the baby facing him. It was then that it happened. Aragorn's son turned into a very fine imitation of the fountain beneath the White Tree of Gondor. He gushed all over the front of his father's velvet tunic—he even got some of it on his father's beard. Aragorn was a complete mess.
The entire room—except for me—erupted into laughter. Elrond, Glorfindel, and both twins were all in the library tonight, either reading or playing chess.I hadn't realized that the audience had grown from simply Elrond and me, so I was a bit startled by all the laughter. Leofa was too, apparently. He began to cry in earnest. I rose and whisked him from Aragorn's lap. The baby, miraculously, had come away from the disaster unscathed. He had not a drop on him. I sincerely was biting the inside of my cheek to keep from roaring with laughter, but I did not want to endanger my new found peace with Aragorn by laughing at him at this point. Aragorn, for his part, was sitting with a look of half disgust and half confusion, not knowing exactly what to do.
I gave him the towel I always used when burping Leofa, which I had not given to him—out of spite, I suppose.
"All you can do is simply change clothes, Aragorn," I told him honestly. "Just let that towel soak up the wetness, then proceed to stand."
"You could have warned me, you know," he said somewhat in anger.
"You seemed so positive you knew what you were doing, my lord," I said confidently. "I wanted not to step on your toes by telling you obvious things."
He only smiled a sickly smile at me. After mopping up the worst of the wetness, he stood and left the room. Snickers followed him, and he threw daggered looks behind himself at his brothers and father and Glorfindel.
So, it seems, the King of Gondor had his first lesson in the fine art of burping a baby.
I resumed my place on the couch in front of the hearth and continued with the nursing of my son. As soon as he'd finished at the second breast, I quietly burped him. He'd been much less eager and more sleepy at this one. He peacefully slept on my shoulder, full and content as only a well-fed baby can be. I rose to take him and myself to bed, and half way up the stairs, I met Aragorn coming down.
"I wondered perhaps since he sleeps through the night, if I may have him with me tonight?" the King asked me quietly.
I hesitated. Leofa had not been out of my room since the night he was born. I was almost superstitious about it. I wanted desperately to tell the King to just go away. Get back up on his horse and return to Gondor. It would be spring soon enough, and Leofa and I would be forced to attend him. He would get his time with him then. But I could not tell him such a thing.
"I suppose that is not too much to ask," I replied. "I will hold him, while you move his cradle."
Aragorn went into my room and took Leofa's cradle from within, moving it into the room he was occupying during his short stay here in Imladris. My eyes were tearing up, much to my frustration with myself, but there was nothing I could do about it. I had my arms full of my son. I took a deep breath of his baby smell, and at the same time rested my eyes against his blanket, blotting my tears away. I whispered my love to him as he lay in my arms, and I hoped he always knew how much his mother loved him.
Much too soon Aragorn was ready to take him from me. It is only for the night, Maeren. He handled Leofa with much care, and the baby did not even stir in his shift from parent to parent.
"Thank you for this," Aragorn said sincerely. I could see by the look in his eyes that he truly meant what he said. "I know it is hard for you. I can see it in your face that it is."
"I am sorry, Aragorn," I said shakily. "Tis nothing personal. It is simply old hurts that ache in my heart that make me react in this way."
He put his free hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
"I will guard him all the night long. You have my solemn word."
I smiled. "Now it is I who thank you. Good night, Aragorn."
"Good night," he replied.
I watched as the King entered his room and closed the door, taking my son with him.
It is only for the night, Maeren.
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I had no sooner closed the door to my own room, than someone had knocked on it. My heart leapt, thinking that perhaps Aragorn had had second thoughts about keeping Leofa by himself overnight, but when I opened the door, it was only Elladan. I am sure my expression must have fallen somewhat, but I bid him to enter. I closed the door after him and leaned against it, trying to still my fluttering heart—which was still quickened by the thought that my son may have been returned to me; not by the fact that Elladan was paying me a visit.
"You look as if you have been forced to swallow a bug," Elladan observed.
"Why thank you," I said with false cheer. "You are certainly charming this evening, my fine Elf. To what do I owe this immense pleasure?" I took a good look at him then, and my heart began to beat in a different rhythm. He had that look in his eyes he always got when he had things on his mind that excluded everything but him and me.
He approached me slowly, stopping only inches from me. He was close enough that I could feel the warmth of him radiating outward toward me, and it was drawing me closer. I franticly held to the spot where I stood.
"I was merely wondering if time had perhaps changed your mind," he drawled. "You are no longer suffering from the aftereffects of Leofa's birth, so I thought to come and persuade you to sleep with me, if you could be persuaded." He had wrapped me in his arms, the warmth of his chest was against my breasts, and his lips were dancing down my neck. Reluctantly, I pulled myself together and freed myself from his grasp.
"And what makes you so sure I could be persuaded now?" I asked him smugly.
His answer was to dance his lips down the other side of my neck.
"We cannot be doing this sort of thing, you know," I said impatiently, pushing at him to let me go.
"I do not really understand why we should not," he said with the patience I did not have. "Could you explain it to me again, please?"
"Of course," I said obligingly. "I would be happy to. As you have so graciously just pointed out, I have recently had a child—your sister's husband's child. A veritable mess, would you not agree?"
"I would definitely agree," he stated calmly.
"Your father was most unhappy with me when he heard the news that I carried Aragorn's child. I feared for my life at one point in the conversation, truth be known," I said, shuddering with the recollection of the horrible confrontation with the Elf lord.
"I can see how you would," Elladan agreed once more. "My father can be quite formidable at times. But that is all water under the bridge by this point. Father loves you! It is as apparent as the blush on your cheeks."
"And I love him as well," I told the Elf honestly. "So you can see how I do not wish to upset him, do you not? How do you suppose he would feel if he discovered that I, who he should be able to trust implicitly, would stoop to the treachery of having a physical relationship with one of his sons? Especially since he has already voiced his opinion on the subject? Do you suppose that would please him, Elladan? I certainly do not think that it would."
"Maeren," Elladan said, his smile most beguiling, "I am an Elf well past majority. I ceased asking my father his opinion of my bed mates centuries ago."
"That is all well and good, Elladan," I said, growing impatient once again, "but that piece of information does me no good, does it? Whether you have his permission or no, has no bearing on this situation. It is me who will bear the brunt of his disappointment, not you. And it is me who is indebted to him for all he has done for me. Please have pity on me. If you like me at all, please stay away from me. I must keep my nose out of trouble while I am here, and with you embracing me, and kissing my neck, I cannot keep my resolve strong. You have to leave me be. You simply must."
"I see your point, Maeren," Elladan said, "but I cannot make any rash promises at this time. If only you were not so bewitching!" He reached for me yet again.
"I can see you are not taking me seriously," I said angrily, evading his arms. "Please go now. I am very tired and need rest—alone!" I pushed him toward the door and when we arrived, I grasped the handle and opened it.
"All right," he laughed, "I am going. Seriously, Maeren, I think you are making much more of this than you need to. My father cares not who I bed—"
"Shhh! Elladan!" I exclaimed in a loud whisper. "The door is open you stupid Elf! Just go and leave me alone! What you must think of me to have made such a statement—'my father cares not who I bed'—go bed an Orc, Elladan!" And with that, I slammed the door in his face.
The randy Elf! Drat him! Why did he have to go and get me all stirred up again?
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A/N: It has been considerable time since my 'wee ones' were wee, and I do not remember when they begin with that sweet laughter. Let's pretend they can do it at a month to six weeks old since it coincides with Aragorn's visit, even though I believe it is more like two to three months! But, hey, they are in Imladris and (even though he was premature) the child is influenced by Elves and of Numenorean descent, and quite precocious!