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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, no kissing, nothing even vaguely explicit, but if the idea of male pregnancy grosses you out then for the love of god, go find another fic that won't offend your sensibilities. This is definitely not for you.
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.
And as before, //... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)
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Legolas leant back and groaned softly. He still hurt, and steeling himself before Faramir had given him an added headache. He heard the door softly open and tensed himself for yet another duelling session but quickly relaxed when Eowyn's now-familiar scent ticked his nostrils. He never realised how comforting her bodily musk had come to be to him. It was softly hypnotic, lulling him into a puzzling yet welcome sense of contented complacency.
"I'm sorry, Legolas," she whispered. "He didn't mean to be so hard. It wasn't nice of him, that much I grant, but... he has a lot on his mind. He isn't usually that way. Faramir is a good man. That's why I'm marrying him."
"Do you love him?" It was a question, honest and true. She could sense the innocent curiosity that lay behind it.
"Yes, I do. But that isn't the point, is it?"
"No, it isn't."
"Just the way his personal need to hear his question answered is beside the point. Legolas, who's son is that? I don't need to know, Legolas. Eowyn the person doesn't need to know. But it's not just about me, or about Faramir. Legolas, who's child is it?"
"You want me to say he is Boromir's son."
"Gondor needs you to either confirm or deny it. I'm sorry Legolas."
"The king has returned. It is of no consequence."
"No, it is of large consequence. Politically, Faramir still holds position. He is the last survivor of his house. He is all alone in the world, Legolas."
"He has you."
"But I am not family. I never will be. Legolas, I feel so alone, so unbearable lonely after my uncle's death. I feel like my family is broken... reduced to ashes... and yet I still have my brother. And I know there will always be someone there to love me and support me... unconditionally. The two of us are the last of our house, Eomer and I. But Faramir has no family. He is all alone in the world."
"But that doesn't give him a right to..." he started, then broke off as he realised the weakness of his argument. Faramir indeed had every right to demand an answer if he suspected the child had man-blood in his veins. If it truly was Boromir's child then that would make it Faramir's heir. And not only that, it would make the child Steward as soon as he came of age, and unless the man had children of his own, it would inherit all claim to Ithilien upon Faramir's death. And that would make the child higher than Faramir in both rank and importance.
Eowyn sat down and sighed. "Legolas, I don't know what might happen when ... I fear... *we* fear... that perhaps... he is not man enough... and I am not woman enough... to create a child together. And if so, then the line will be broken," she said quietly, her head bowed low. "And we would have failed our people."
"Unless the elder son of Gondor left his legacy," Legolas nodded.
"Yes. Unless the elder son of Gondor left his legacy."
"He had no women? Somehow I find that surprising. Boromir always struck me as being particularly fond of his women."
"Oh, and he had many!" she blushed. "Or so the servants say when they think I'm not listening. But he had no heir, not even an illegitimate. And perhaps that is part of what bothers Faramir the most."
"Impotency?"
"His father had two sons. Only two. And his brother had none. And he feels they are more man than he is. And as it is, I'm not sure I am woman enough to bear one," she whispered. "That is my shame, that perhaps I am not woman enough. Do you understand, Legolas? You have the power to realise or destroy our hope. Please don't prolong it unnecessarily."
And Legolas nodded mutely. He understood perfectly. He realised the importance of it all, but still his heart would not let him speak. The child was his own, he had created it with his lover, and it was theirs alone, and he fought hard against his obligation to speak the name of his partner to his caregivers. No, that was one secret he vowed he would always keep mute on. As for the child...
The child stirred restlessly in his arms and whimpered, and Legolas looked up at her in alarm. "What's wrong?"
"I think he's hungry. Do you think you can nurse him?" she asked, instantly switching modes again. "One of my women had a child some months ago. But she produces so much milk it hurts if she doesn't extract what's left after her daughter is done feeding. She's been looking for a child to nurse for some time now. She would care for him well, Legolas, if only you would let her. She will willingly take care of him if given the permission."
Legolas nodded and swallowed hard. "That would be good," he said hesitantly, and forced a smile for her benefit, but changed his mind and drew away as soon as she reached for the bundle in his arms. "No, wait!" he rasped, cradling his son protectively, much to her dismay.
"Legolas, please."
"No!" he cried in rising panic, before forcefully regaining a tight reign on his emotions. "No, Eowyn," he said, more calmly this time. "Please? I don't want to let him go. Please? I don't want him brought where I can't find him. I don't dare hand him to a woman I don't know. I'm sorry. It's so hard. It's just... too hard for me. I'm sorry, Eowyn. I am so, so sorry. But I can't do it. Please don't take him away from me."
"It's alright," she crooned and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "I suppose I can always bring her here," she said, and sighed when she saw Legolas tense up again. "I'll swear her to secrecy, I promise. And she doesn't know you. She'll probably think you were one of the Elves from the colony. And even if she does recognise you as Legolas she'll probably think you're your sister, or cousin, or some blood relative. She won't know it's actually you. You don't have to worry. She won't talk, I'll make sure of it."
Legolas stared at Eowyn for awhile, not quite daring to trust that things would work themselves out, but when the child wailed out in angry protest, he was quick to give his consent.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
By the time she returned with the nurse, the child was bawling it's head off. Eowyn could almost hear him from the common corridor! Thank goodness nobody visited this inner wing anymore, otherwise Legolas would never be able to keep his secret safe. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy oak door to Boromir's chamber and made to lead the other woman in, but froze at the sight that greeted her eyes.
Legolas looked absolutely ghastly. He was beside himself, trying frantically to calm his newborn as tears of helplessness streamed down his face. He looked like he was shaking, but it has hard to tell while he rocked the child. When his eyes rose to meet hers, she felt a physical pain at the raw horror she saw there. He was loosing control.
With a soft gasp of alarm, she flew across the room and threw her arms around him. "Hush!" she whispered as she held him tight. "Hush, stop it! Calm down. Relax. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. Listen to me. It's okay. It's okay."
"I can't nurse my son!" he whimpered. "I can't nurse my son!" Again and again he said it as again and again as he rocked with the weight of his distress. "I can't nurse my son," he wailed. "I'm such a monster."
"No, no, you're not. Oh dear sweet Eru, you're not!"
"Help me," he choked as he slowly regained his senses. "Eowyn, help me!"
Eowyn wrapped her arms around his head and kissed the top of his hair. "It's alright. It's alright. I'm here. And I brought someone who can help you. I brought someone who can nurse your child. It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. It's alright. Just calm down." She pushed Legolas back and arms length away and smiled reassuringly at him.
"This is Jenna," she said gently, turning to beckon to the wet nurse. "She's going to help you take are of your son. Is that okay, Legolas?" he nodded, and Eowyn felt herself taking a deep breath to release the tension within. "Come, that's it. Come on, let her carry him. Let her hold him for awhile. It'll be okay. Look at the poor dear, he's so hungry. Come on..."
Slowly Legolas released his hold of the child, and Eowyn gently handed it to Jenna to tend to, and watched as the child latched on greedily. As for herself, she settled down again beside Legolas and held him reassuringly as they listened to Jenna's cheerful banter slowly putting them all at ease.
After awhile, she became aware of a slight tremor running through Legolas' body, and looking down at him, was shocked to realise that he was crying silently into her shoulder. "Hush," she whispered, smoothening back his hair. "Hush now, it's okay. It's alright. Everything's just fine, Legolas. It's okay." She felt him nod and tighten his grip on her.
"I'm scared," he whispered.
"It's okay to be scared."
"I'm so scared."
"I know that."
"I don't think I've ever been so afraid in all my life."
"It's okay, Legolas. It's okay."
"But I've never been so scared and it's scaring me!"
"Oh, sweetheart..."
"Don't leave me alone. Please don't leave me alone. I can't do it if you leave me alone."
"I'm sorry. I won't."
"Please."
"I'm not going anywhere, Legolas. I'm not going anywhere."
"Please?" he whimpered, clinging even more tightly to her, almost as if she would disappear from the face of the earth if he did not.
"Legolas," she whispered, and cupped both her hands around his face, forcing him to look at her. "Legolas, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here for you. And I'm not letting you go through it all alone. Trust me."
He nodded, his eyes still wide.
"Do you trust me?"
Again he nodded, and this time she could feel the life slowly creep back into his features.
"Do you trust me?"
And finally he smiled. "Yes, I trust you. Thank you."
Eowyn breathed a sigh of relief as the colour returned to his face. "That's it," she smiled softly. "Now that's the Legolas we all know and love," she said and giggled. "Welcome back."
And heaving a huge sigh of satisfaction, she snuggled up to him, cat-like, and he could almost imagine her purring in contentment. And even after Jenna handed his son back and left the room, they stayed close to each other.
It was comforting. The other's presence reassured them, and the child's being gave them joy. He loved it. Her devotion made him feel warm all over. Warm and idle and complacent, and not realising it, he brought his hand up to stroke her hair. It didn't seem to bother her though, or perhaps like Legolas she barely realised what was happening. It was as if they were each enclosed in a soft cocoon of warmth and love, and nothing around them quite mattered. Nothing registered. It was like a dream. It was perfect.
"Im mil lle, Eo--"
And the perfection broke, and Legolas drew back, mortified at what he had murmured in a moment of weakness. Eowyn looked up at him confused.
"What?" she asked. "What's the matter?"
But no matter how hard she tried to press him, he would not tell her the meaning of the words, and at length she gave up. She knew she would not be getting any answers out of him, and it was becoming painfully obvious that her presence there was making him uncomfortable, and so after making sure that all possible needs were tended, she left him alone to enjoy his newborn in peace.
But though she forced herself to forget, her mind was disturbed. What was it that unnerved him so greatly? What great secret did he utter that sent him spiralling down that path of cold aloofness again? She had thought he was opening up to them. Had she unwittingly slammed the door shut again? The thoughts swam inside her head, making her dizzy, making her ill until she decided to do something about it. But Legolas would not be persuaded to share with her, and she was not close to any other Elf. Aragorn would have knowledge of the language, and Gandalf, and many others, but... he had uttered something that should not be said. Something secret. Who could she trust to keep a secret?
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"Eowyn! How are you, love? Ai, Elbereth, you look lovelier every time I lay eyes on you. Is it no wonder that Faramir is so smitten. Ah, my dear, you would make such a lovely bride."
"My thanks, your highness."
"So tell me, how are the preparations going? I hear it's madness in the kitchens. Is your dress ready, my dear?"
"Almost, your highness. I just need to make a few alterations. It's a little too loose around the waist."
"Well then you had better get it settled quickly. You have only for days left to the wedding after all," she said and smiled. "Oh, come now. Surely we know better than to be so formal."
"And so it is. Arwen, I need your help."
"Anything, my dear."
"If I were to ask it of you, can you do me a favour? Can you keep a secret, even if it means keeping it from your husband? I need you to translate something, but I'm not sure if it is meant to be known. My heart tells me it might cause trouble, and that it would be better to just let the matter rest."
"But you are curious. Very well. What do you want to know?"
Eowyn hesitated. Now that the time had come for it, she was not quite sure she did want to know. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes, and called back the words she had tried so hard to forget. "Im mil lle eo. What does 'im mil lle eo' mean?"
For a moment, Arwen looked puzzled. And then understanding dawned, and it filled her with gay laughter. "It's not 'im mil lle eo'. It's 'im mil lle, Eowyn'," she exclaimed. "Oh my dearest, whoever said it must have backed out halfway. 'Im mil lle, Eowyn.' 'I love you.'"
Eowyn felt her head snap back with the force of the news and staggered back, as if a physical hand had slapped her hard across her jaw. All unbidden, she felt tears rise to prick her eyes. "No," she whispered. "It can't be. It must be a mistake. It has to be a mistake."
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Eowyn sat in her room and looked out the window. In her hand was a bejewelled dagger, a family heirloom. She hated herself. She hated herself so much it was unbearable. She felt the icy coldness of the metal as it pressed against the soft flesh of her wrists, but though she toyed with the blade and drew it across her skin, she could not bring herself to draw her own blood. She wished she could. She wished she had the guts to do so. She was such a coward.
Again she felt the tears come and take her until her whole body was overcome by her convulsive sobs. But nobody heard her from way up there. No sound passed through the thick stone walls. No sound escaped the heavy oak door. She was all alone in the world, and nobody even knew.
Tears ran down her face. She could not help it. She did not even know why. All she knew was that she hurt inside, and the tears came to wash her pain away. But why did she ache so badly? Why was it such an agony for her?
An image of Faramir rose in her thoughts.
//That is Faramir,\\ she told herself. //That is the man I am going to marry. And I will marry him in four days time. He loves me, and he is a good man, and he made me fall in love with him. It is a good match. He will take care of me, and I will marry him. I love him. Really I do. I do, I do, really, I do. I love him. I love him. I do love him, so much. So very, very much. He is so precious to me. And I love him. With all my heart.\\
And at that moment, she hated herself. She hated herself for crying. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and raised her dagger, and felt the sharp prick of the edge as it cut into her chest.
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Whopie. Long chapter. Three breaks in the story, each break has a ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ sorta mark. I used to have chapter breaks with every break in the story, but I think all three breaks this time really does fit in as a single chapter. The whole thing is very much concerning Eowyn even though she's not the main, and that's another reason for a single extended chapter. I'm starting to miss writing through Leggy's eyes, and I hope hope hope hope that I will get more of him in the next chapter. By the looks of it, the post-birth drama might stretch up to what.. Say... three chapters instead of two? I seriously doubt I can wrap everything up with one more chapter.
Oh, and guys. I've got a crazy dance schedule until my concert on the 18th feb, we're practicing almost every other day on top of school and essays and tests so I apologise in advance if I don't manage to make next week's update on time.
Anonymous: Awww... Elrond and Aragron's reaction? I'm sorry to disappoint you dear. Large probability that they never find out it's leggy's kid.
YES! The baby came! I'm so glad that you managed to post today...and two chapters, even! Thank you! I'm dying to see Elrond and Aragorn's reaction. Does this mean that we have to wait until next Monday for chapter
9? Say it ain't so! Poor Legolas...I can't believe that he actually went through something like this. Faramir was funny, all through this situation...until the end, anyway. That was pretty mean, getting violent and then storming out! And now poor Legolas is left all alone! I wonder how he feels, physically. Hurry with chapter 9 please!
MyGirlCrais: Oh yes, the hard bit IS telling everyone! Haha! But you can bet he's going to find a way out of it. Coming up next chapter. Leggy deals with the little problem of having a secret son. And wohoo, I just love the way you put it! (((And it sounded like he got knocked up in the woods))) cool! Well, as for daddy's identity, all might be revealed. I have an evil shock for all of them. But only might. It's subject to change...
CandiX: yay! It's a boy! Though I'm starting to wish it was a girl because of the he/ she thing. Easier to differentiate between father and kid if they're of the opposite sex.
Lobo Diablo: hoi! That's my fav man, I'll have you know. Grins. Oh well. ;D But then again, what makes you so sure it's Boromir? You could be just making a big mistake. Maybe Faramir and Eowyn are wrong? After all, Leggy never said anything... *grinz*
JW7: yay! Thanks for the really long review! Yippie! yes, it's hilarious, isn't it? I just love poking fun at movie Legolas. I mean, he's soooooooooo fun to bully. I love anything which involves pushing him around, the poor sod. And Faramir's so nice it's kinda tempting to bully him as well. Oops. Ima nawthy liddle girl... And thanks for complimenting my style. I like it. Hehe. (fazy goes big-headed). Though I think my style kinda changes from situation to situation. It seems that I either do really monologue-style- impressionist passages or roleplay dialogues with little in between. Lol! I've been working on fleshing out the speaking bits though, so it's more than just stage dialogue. How Gimli will react? Hmmm.. never thought of that. He'd probably be so shocked he'd squirt his beer out of his nose or something. Hehe. And as for posts, I try to post one per week, so don't expect frequent updates. Good thing tho is that I really do put a deadline on myself and I usually start a new chapter every Monday.
Tap Dancing Widow: ooooh, another one who wants to know the Fellowship's reactions. Hm. I guess you've just gotta wait and see, huh? But don't get your hopes up. Leggy still hopes to weasel his way out of it. He still doesn't want anyone to know. And oh, did you say 'Boromir'? Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. What? What? I cant hear anything? *grinz*
Samwise the Brave: weeeeeell, I have gotten a coupla flames so far. I used to get really hurt when that happened, but that was some time ago. Anyway, now whenever I get a review in my mailbox from a new reviewer I kinda mentally prepare myself for a flame. If the first line seems favourable, I relax. Otherwise I think "oh no, flamer!!!!" and brace myself for an awful slamming. Oh, and guess what? I AM FROM SINGAPORE! Hehe. I'm 21 this year, a malay muslim, taking lit and philo at nus and I love durians too. I actually wrote that bit as a way of introducing my penpal to the world of durians. You know, rather than a long boring description I did a role play instead.
Deity of Sorrow: (((Deity: Go leggy! ^_^ Legolas: *glares at Deity* gr...))) Fazy: Hey you! Leave my reviewers alone! *throws bucket of water at Legolas* Man. I just hope that was MOVIE Legolas I just drenched. I get the feeling that book leggy might just turn homicidal... Or then again it could have been my leggy. Which would be a good thing. He needed a bath anyway.
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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, no kissing, nothing even vaguely explicit, but if the idea of male pregnancy grosses you out then for the love of god, go find another fic that won't offend your sensibilities. This is definitely not for you.
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.
And as before, //... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)
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Legolas leant back and groaned softly. He still hurt, and steeling himself before Faramir had given him an added headache. He heard the door softly open and tensed himself for yet another duelling session but quickly relaxed when Eowyn's now-familiar scent ticked his nostrils. He never realised how comforting her bodily musk had come to be to him. It was softly hypnotic, lulling him into a puzzling yet welcome sense of contented complacency.
"I'm sorry, Legolas," she whispered. "He didn't mean to be so hard. It wasn't nice of him, that much I grant, but... he has a lot on his mind. He isn't usually that way. Faramir is a good man. That's why I'm marrying him."
"Do you love him?" It was a question, honest and true. She could sense the innocent curiosity that lay behind it.
"Yes, I do. But that isn't the point, is it?"
"No, it isn't."
"Just the way his personal need to hear his question answered is beside the point. Legolas, who's son is that? I don't need to know, Legolas. Eowyn the person doesn't need to know. But it's not just about me, or about Faramir. Legolas, who's child is it?"
"You want me to say he is Boromir's son."
"Gondor needs you to either confirm or deny it. I'm sorry Legolas."
"The king has returned. It is of no consequence."
"No, it is of large consequence. Politically, Faramir still holds position. He is the last survivor of his house. He is all alone in the world, Legolas."
"He has you."
"But I am not family. I never will be. Legolas, I feel so alone, so unbearable lonely after my uncle's death. I feel like my family is broken... reduced to ashes... and yet I still have my brother. And I know there will always be someone there to love me and support me... unconditionally. The two of us are the last of our house, Eomer and I. But Faramir has no family. He is all alone in the world."
"But that doesn't give him a right to..." he started, then broke off as he realised the weakness of his argument. Faramir indeed had every right to demand an answer if he suspected the child had man-blood in his veins. If it truly was Boromir's child then that would make it Faramir's heir. And not only that, it would make the child Steward as soon as he came of age, and unless the man had children of his own, it would inherit all claim to Ithilien upon Faramir's death. And that would make the child higher than Faramir in both rank and importance.
Eowyn sat down and sighed. "Legolas, I don't know what might happen when ... I fear... *we* fear... that perhaps... he is not man enough... and I am not woman enough... to create a child together. And if so, then the line will be broken," she said quietly, her head bowed low. "And we would have failed our people."
"Unless the elder son of Gondor left his legacy," Legolas nodded.
"Yes. Unless the elder son of Gondor left his legacy."
"He had no women? Somehow I find that surprising. Boromir always struck me as being particularly fond of his women."
"Oh, and he had many!" she blushed. "Or so the servants say when they think I'm not listening. But he had no heir, not even an illegitimate. And perhaps that is part of what bothers Faramir the most."
"Impotency?"
"His father had two sons. Only two. And his brother had none. And he feels they are more man than he is. And as it is, I'm not sure I am woman enough to bear one," she whispered. "That is my shame, that perhaps I am not woman enough. Do you understand, Legolas? You have the power to realise or destroy our hope. Please don't prolong it unnecessarily."
And Legolas nodded mutely. He understood perfectly. He realised the importance of it all, but still his heart would not let him speak. The child was his own, he had created it with his lover, and it was theirs alone, and he fought hard against his obligation to speak the name of his partner to his caregivers. No, that was one secret he vowed he would always keep mute on. As for the child...
The child stirred restlessly in his arms and whimpered, and Legolas looked up at her in alarm. "What's wrong?"
"I think he's hungry. Do you think you can nurse him?" she asked, instantly switching modes again. "One of my women had a child some months ago. But she produces so much milk it hurts if she doesn't extract what's left after her daughter is done feeding. She's been looking for a child to nurse for some time now. She would care for him well, Legolas, if only you would let her. She will willingly take care of him if given the permission."
Legolas nodded and swallowed hard. "That would be good," he said hesitantly, and forced a smile for her benefit, but changed his mind and drew away as soon as she reached for the bundle in his arms. "No, wait!" he rasped, cradling his son protectively, much to her dismay.
"Legolas, please."
"No!" he cried in rising panic, before forcefully regaining a tight reign on his emotions. "No, Eowyn," he said, more calmly this time. "Please? I don't want to let him go. Please? I don't want him brought where I can't find him. I don't dare hand him to a woman I don't know. I'm sorry. It's so hard. It's just... too hard for me. I'm sorry, Eowyn. I am so, so sorry. But I can't do it. Please don't take him away from me."
"It's alright," she crooned and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "I suppose I can always bring her here," she said, and sighed when she saw Legolas tense up again. "I'll swear her to secrecy, I promise. And she doesn't know you. She'll probably think you were one of the Elves from the colony. And even if she does recognise you as Legolas she'll probably think you're your sister, or cousin, or some blood relative. She won't know it's actually you. You don't have to worry. She won't talk, I'll make sure of it."
Legolas stared at Eowyn for awhile, not quite daring to trust that things would work themselves out, but when the child wailed out in angry protest, he was quick to give his consent.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
By the time she returned with the nurse, the child was bawling it's head off. Eowyn could almost hear him from the common corridor! Thank goodness nobody visited this inner wing anymore, otherwise Legolas would never be able to keep his secret safe. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy oak door to Boromir's chamber and made to lead the other woman in, but froze at the sight that greeted her eyes.
Legolas looked absolutely ghastly. He was beside himself, trying frantically to calm his newborn as tears of helplessness streamed down his face. He looked like he was shaking, but it has hard to tell while he rocked the child. When his eyes rose to meet hers, she felt a physical pain at the raw horror she saw there. He was loosing control.
With a soft gasp of alarm, she flew across the room and threw her arms around him. "Hush!" she whispered as she held him tight. "Hush, stop it! Calm down. Relax. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. Listen to me. It's okay. It's okay."
"I can't nurse my son!" he whimpered. "I can't nurse my son!" Again and again he said it as again and again as he rocked with the weight of his distress. "I can't nurse my son," he wailed. "I'm such a monster."
"No, no, you're not. Oh dear sweet Eru, you're not!"
"Help me," he choked as he slowly regained his senses. "Eowyn, help me!"
Eowyn wrapped her arms around his head and kissed the top of his hair. "It's alright. It's alright. I'm here. And I brought someone who can help you. I brought someone who can nurse your child. It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. It's alright. Just calm down." She pushed Legolas back and arms length away and smiled reassuringly at him.
"This is Jenna," she said gently, turning to beckon to the wet nurse. "She's going to help you take are of your son. Is that okay, Legolas?" he nodded, and Eowyn felt herself taking a deep breath to release the tension within. "Come, that's it. Come on, let her carry him. Let her hold him for awhile. It'll be okay. Look at the poor dear, he's so hungry. Come on..."
Slowly Legolas released his hold of the child, and Eowyn gently handed it to Jenna to tend to, and watched as the child latched on greedily. As for herself, she settled down again beside Legolas and held him reassuringly as they listened to Jenna's cheerful banter slowly putting them all at ease.
After awhile, she became aware of a slight tremor running through Legolas' body, and looking down at him, was shocked to realise that he was crying silently into her shoulder. "Hush," she whispered, smoothening back his hair. "Hush now, it's okay. It's alright. Everything's just fine, Legolas. It's okay." She felt him nod and tighten his grip on her.
"I'm scared," he whispered.
"It's okay to be scared."
"I'm so scared."
"I know that."
"I don't think I've ever been so afraid in all my life."
"It's okay, Legolas. It's okay."
"But I've never been so scared and it's scaring me!"
"Oh, sweetheart..."
"Don't leave me alone. Please don't leave me alone. I can't do it if you leave me alone."
"I'm sorry. I won't."
"Please."
"I'm not going anywhere, Legolas. I'm not going anywhere."
"Please?" he whimpered, clinging even more tightly to her, almost as if she would disappear from the face of the earth if he did not.
"Legolas," she whispered, and cupped both her hands around his face, forcing him to look at her. "Legolas, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here for you. And I'm not letting you go through it all alone. Trust me."
He nodded, his eyes still wide.
"Do you trust me?"
Again he nodded, and this time she could feel the life slowly creep back into his features.
"Do you trust me?"
And finally he smiled. "Yes, I trust you. Thank you."
Eowyn breathed a sigh of relief as the colour returned to his face. "That's it," she smiled softly. "Now that's the Legolas we all know and love," she said and giggled. "Welcome back."
And heaving a huge sigh of satisfaction, she snuggled up to him, cat-like, and he could almost imagine her purring in contentment. And even after Jenna handed his son back and left the room, they stayed close to each other.
It was comforting. The other's presence reassured them, and the child's being gave them joy. He loved it. Her devotion made him feel warm all over. Warm and idle and complacent, and not realising it, he brought his hand up to stroke her hair. It didn't seem to bother her though, or perhaps like Legolas she barely realised what was happening. It was as if they were each enclosed in a soft cocoon of warmth and love, and nothing around them quite mattered. Nothing registered. It was like a dream. It was perfect.
"Im mil lle, Eo--"
And the perfection broke, and Legolas drew back, mortified at what he had murmured in a moment of weakness. Eowyn looked up at him confused.
"What?" she asked. "What's the matter?"
But no matter how hard she tried to press him, he would not tell her the meaning of the words, and at length she gave up. She knew she would not be getting any answers out of him, and it was becoming painfully obvious that her presence there was making him uncomfortable, and so after making sure that all possible needs were tended, she left him alone to enjoy his newborn in peace.
But though she forced herself to forget, her mind was disturbed. What was it that unnerved him so greatly? What great secret did he utter that sent him spiralling down that path of cold aloofness again? She had thought he was opening up to them. Had she unwittingly slammed the door shut again? The thoughts swam inside her head, making her dizzy, making her ill until she decided to do something about it. But Legolas would not be persuaded to share with her, and she was not close to any other Elf. Aragorn would have knowledge of the language, and Gandalf, and many others, but... he had uttered something that should not be said. Something secret. Who could she trust to keep a secret?
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"Eowyn! How are you, love? Ai, Elbereth, you look lovelier every time I lay eyes on you. Is it no wonder that Faramir is so smitten. Ah, my dear, you would make such a lovely bride."
"My thanks, your highness."
"So tell me, how are the preparations going? I hear it's madness in the kitchens. Is your dress ready, my dear?"
"Almost, your highness. I just need to make a few alterations. It's a little too loose around the waist."
"Well then you had better get it settled quickly. You have only for days left to the wedding after all," she said and smiled. "Oh, come now. Surely we know better than to be so formal."
"And so it is. Arwen, I need your help."
"Anything, my dear."
"If I were to ask it of you, can you do me a favour? Can you keep a secret, even if it means keeping it from your husband? I need you to translate something, but I'm not sure if it is meant to be known. My heart tells me it might cause trouble, and that it would be better to just let the matter rest."
"But you are curious. Very well. What do you want to know?"
Eowyn hesitated. Now that the time had come for it, she was not quite sure she did want to know. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes, and called back the words she had tried so hard to forget. "Im mil lle eo. What does 'im mil lle eo' mean?"
For a moment, Arwen looked puzzled. And then understanding dawned, and it filled her with gay laughter. "It's not 'im mil lle eo'. It's 'im mil lle, Eowyn'," she exclaimed. "Oh my dearest, whoever said it must have backed out halfway. 'Im mil lle, Eowyn.' 'I love you.'"
Eowyn felt her head snap back with the force of the news and staggered back, as if a physical hand had slapped her hard across her jaw. All unbidden, she felt tears rise to prick her eyes. "No," she whispered. "It can't be. It must be a mistake. It has to be a mistake."
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Eowyn sat in her room and looked out the window. In her hand was a bejewelled dagger, a family heirloom. She hated herself. She hated herself so much it was unbearable. She felt the icy coldness of the metal as it pressed against the soft flesh of her wrists, but though she toyed with the blade and drew it across her skin, she could not bring herself to draw her own blood. She wished she could. She wished she had the guts to do so. She was such a coward.
Again she felt the tears come and take her until her whole body was overcome by her convulsive sobs. But nobody heard her from way up there. No sound passed through the thick stone walls. No sound escaped the heavy oak door. She was all alone in the world, and nobody even knew.
Tears ran down her face. She could not help it. She did not even know why. All she knew was that she hurt inside, and the tears came to wash her pain away. But why did she ache so badly? Why was it such an agony for her?
An image of Faramir rose in her thoughts.
//That is Faramir,\\ she told herself. //That is the man I am going to marry. And I will marry him in four days time. He loves me, and he is a good man, and he made me fall in love with him. It is a good match. He will take care of me, and I will marry him. I love him. Really I do. I do, I do, really, I do. I love him. I love him. I do love him, so much. So very, very much. He is so precious to me. And I love him. With all my heart.\\
And at that moment, she hated herself. She hated herself for crying. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and raised her dagger, and felt the sharp prick of the edge as it cut into her chest.
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Whopie. Long chapter. Three breaks in the story, each break has a ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ sorta mark. I used to have chapter breaks with every break in the story, but I think all three breaks this time really does fit in as a single chapter. The whole thing is very much concerning Eowyn even though she's not the main, and that's another reason for a single extended chapter. I'm starting to miss writing through Leggy's eyes, and I hope hope hope hope that I will get more of him in the next chapter. By the looks of it, the post-birth drama might stretch up to what.. Say... three chapters instead of two? I seriously doubt I can wrap everything up with one more chapter.
Oh, and guys. I've got a crazy dance schedule until my concert on the 18th feb, we're practicing almost every other day on top of school and essays and tests so I apologise in advance if I don't manage to make next week's update on time.
Anonymous: Awww... Elrond and Aragron's reaction? I'm sorry to disappoint you dear. Large probability that they never find out it's leggy's kid.
YES! The baby came! I'm so glad that you managed to post today...and two chapters, even! Thank you! I'm dying to see Elrond and Aragorn's reaction. Does this mean that we have to wait until next Monday for chapter
9? Say it ain't so! Poor Legolas...I can't believe that he actually went through something like this. Faramir was funny, all through this situation...until the end, anyway. That was pretty mean, getting violent and then storming out! And now poor Legolas is left all alone! I wonder how he feels, physically. Hurry with chapter 9 please!
MyGirlCrais: Oh yes, the hard bit IS telling everyone! Haha! But you can bet he's going to find a way out of it. Coming up next chapter. Leggy deals with the little problem of having a secret son. And wohoo, I just love the way you put it! (((And it sounded like he got knocked up in the woods))) cool! Well, as for daddy's identity, all might be revealed. I have an evil shock for all of them. But only might. It's subject to change...
CandiX: yay! It's a boy! Though I'm starting to wish it was a girl because of the he/ she thing. Easier to differentiate between father and kid if they're of the opposite sex.
Lobo Diablo: hoi! That's my fav man, I'll have you know. Grins. Oh well. ;D But then again, what makes you so sure it's Boromir? You could be just making a big mistake. Maybe Faramir and Eowyn are wrong? After all, Leggy never said anything... *grinz*
JW7: yay! Thanks for the really long review! Yippie! yes, it's hilarious, isn't it? I just love poking fun at movie Legolas. I mean, he's soooooooooo fun to bully. I love anything which involves pushing him around, the poor sod. And Faramir's so nice it's kinda tempting to bully him as well. Oops. Ima nawthy liddle girl... And thanks for complimenting my style. I like it. Hehe. (fazy goes big-headed). Though I think my style kinda changes from situation to situation. It seems that I either do really monologue-style- impressionist passages or roleplay dialogues with little in between. Lol! I've been working on fleshing out the speaking bits though, so it's more than just stage dialogue. How Gimli will react? Hmmm.. never thought of that. He'd probably be so shocked he'd squirt his beer out of his nose or something. Hehe. And as for posts, I try to post one per week, so don't expect frequent updates. Good thing tho is that I really do put a deadline on myself and I usually start a new chapter every Monday.
Tap Dancing Widow: ooooh, another one who wants to know the Fellowship's reactions. Hm. I guess you've just gotta wait and see, huh? But don't get your hopes up. Leggy still hopes to weasel his way out of it. He still doesn't want anyone to know. And oh, did you say 'Boromir'? Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. What? What? I cant hear anything? *grinz*
Samwise the Brave: weeeeeell, I have gotten a coupla flames so far. I used to get really hurt when that happened, but that was some time ago. Anyway, now whenever I get a review in my mailbox from a new reviewer I kinda mentally prepare myself for a flame. If the first line seems favourable, I relax. Otherwise I think "oh no, flamer!!!!" and brace myself for an awful slamming. Oh, and guess what? I AM FROM SINGAPORE! Hehe. I'm 21 this year, a malay muslim, taking lit and philo at nus and I love durians too. I actually wrote that bit as a way of introducing my penpal to the world of durians. You know, rather than a long boring description I did a role play instead.
Deity of Sorrow: (((Deity: Go leggy! ^_^ Legolas: *glares at Deity* gr...))) Fazy: Hey you! Leave my reviewers alone! *throws bucket of water at Legolas* Man. I just hope that was MOVIE Legolas I just drenched. I get the feeling that book leggy might just turn homicidal... Or then again it could have been my leggy. Which would be a good thing. He needed a bath anyway.