Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, ideas or anything else from Lord of the Rings. I do however lay claim on Elrond's twin daughters as Tolkien never wrote about any twin elven girls anywhere in his books. Everything else though, as much as I wish it, is not mine and belongs to the Estate of J.R.R. Tolkien (a wonderful, wonderful man). Except for a 2-year-old toddler by the name of Estel (forever called tithen min by his siblings) who needs looking after.
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Isil had long ago risen by the time the last of the desert dishes were cleared from the table and Elrond rose to lead the way to the Hall of Fire. Three of his four children in attendance were considering the repercussions of disappearing altogether and facing the penalty the next day. After all, forgiveness was so much easier to get than permission.
But just as Elladan and Elrohir were about to make a break for it, one of the Imladris guard, Glorfindel's second they noted, appeared from the front courtyard and drew their father aside. A moment of fierce whispers followed as the twins attempted to edge closer to overheard. Elrond suddenly looked up and caught Elladan's eye, and with a quick motion bid them both follow as he disappeared back into the main house. Elrohir exchanged a look with his brother, tapped his sister on the shoulder, and the three of them followed.
Celebrían continued into the Hall with the rest of the company, swiftly taking up her husband's conversation with Círdan and assuring anyone who asked that everything was well.
Dúnë did not notice until later that her siblings had disappeared with her father.
"Ada, what has happened?" Elladan caught his father up as they passed into the house and out of view of the dinner guests.
"The guards found a young man and his wife on this side of the Bruinen; within our borders. The man is badly injured and the woman with child." As he turned slightly to look at Elladan as he addressed him, he realized one of his children was missing. "Where is Dúnë?"
Arómenë snickered softly and bit her lip to keep herself from outright laughter. "Prince Legolas," was all she said, but realization dawned in Elrond's eyes, followed by a clear look of disapproval. He would most certainly be having a talk with his middle daughter when things had settled down. Rómë smiled in delight to herself; a look matched perfectly by her brothers. Talks with Elrond rarely were good, and even more rarely ended at all well.
Elrond and his children breezed into the Healing Halls to find three of the guard standing watch over the two mortals. For mortal they were, and very obviously not of Dunedain blood. Rómë checked herself at that, caught slightly off guard. These people were certainly from the west then; perhaps one of the villages near Bree, or Bree itself. But if so, they were a long way from their home for a culture that did not like to stray far from their hearths. And even stranger was their presence here, for the lesser races of men both feared and shunned the elves and surely would not go seeking them for any reason.
Elrond went immediately to the bed the archers had set the young man upon, dismissing said guards at the same time. They seemed to hesitate only slightly, as if unsure of leaving their lord and his family alone with strange humans, but neither would they question Elrond's commands.
The healer examined his patient, calling out quick instructions to his two sons who scrambled to collect what he needed.
Rómë edged as close to the bed as she dared, at the same time trying to keep out of the way of her brothers. A young man he was indeed, little more than a grown boy, she thought, but she had not seen many mortals in her life, and even fewer that were not of Dunedain blood. For all she knew this boy was considered a man among his people. Likely so, if the woman sitting on the bed near him was indeed his wife. His very pregnant wife, she noted.
Realizing she would be of little help to her father, and would only get in the way, she went instead to the young mother-to-be and sat down at the end of the cot, keeping her distance so as not to frighten the girl.
"Welcome," she started in Westron, keeping her voice as soft and kind as she could. "I am Arómenë. May I ask your name, and the young man's?"
The woman looked at her with something akin to terror, a look that multiplied as she caught the elf-lord giving her husband something to drink. If she wasn't so scared, Rómë suspected she would have told them to stop. But she could only sit there in shock as her husband was tended.
Seeing as she wasn't about to answer until she had at least assured herself her husband was not being killed by the elves that tended him, Rómë turned her attention to the other bed as well. From her viewpoint she could make out a good many of the injuries, not the least of which was a badly broken leg; the lower half so covered in blood she was sure it had been all but shattered. Even her father might have difficulty saving it. The man's torso was also bloodstained, thanks mostly to a deep gash across the stomach that Elladan was currently trying to stop the bleeding of. They would be awhile, she knew; no doubt once the bleeding was stopped and the more simple wounds cared for they would move him into the surgery across the room: to save the leg or take it Rómë could not yet discern.
She sighed deeply. No matter how much she wished to become a great healer like her father, and no matter how many times she helped to tend the simple injuries that occurred in Imladris, there were times such as this that the very thought of being responsible for saving someone's life scared her deeply. It was something she knew she would have to either overcome or learn to live with, but neither prospect sounded promising whenever she thought about it.
She looked to the young mother again. "Lady, please, would you tell us your name and how you came to be here? We will not harm you or your companion." She held her hand out, but made no move to touch the woman.
Her words garnered her attention however, and the girl look at the offered hand in apprehension. "My….Iselle. My name is Iselle. My husband, he is Darin. Please, we did not mean to trespass. We were attacked yestereve, on the road. We were only trying to find help. My husband, he was hurt trying to protect me. They took our horse, and I did…I did not know where to go. I knew not the Fair Folk lived in these part…." She trailed off looking helplessly at Rómë, who was trying to not smile at the "Fair Folk" comment.
"Everything will be well Iselle. We do not mind that you are here. My father's home is a haven for all races, not just the Eldar. I am sorry to hear of what has befallen you. The roads are not safe anywhere, it would seem. A tragedy after all we have fought and died for. You will be safe here, I promise you that. And my father will do all he can to heal your husband. But tell me, how many months along are you? Is the child due soon?"
Iselle looked a bit shocked at the sudden change in topic. "I…I am nearly due my lady. I am not certain, but, soon."
Rómë smiled gently. "May I feel?" she reached her hand forward again, but this time Iselle made no move to stop her and she laid a gentle hand upon the large swell of the woman's stomach. The child kicked under the foreign touch, but quickly quieted as Rómë began to speak soothing words in a language the woman did not understand. Going slowly so as not to surprise the woman, Elrond's daughter reached out with her senses to feel the child. A boy, healthy and hale, and quite active by the feel of it.
Rómë smiled at Iselle. "The babe is doing fine. It will not be many days now, if I am any judge. But once my father is finished with your husband he will wish to examine you in more depth. You need not fear anything, I will stay with you if you wish it. My father is counted the most skilled among the elves in the art of healing. You are both in good hands." She smiled encouragingly again. "Do you wish to know the gender of the babe?"
For a moment she thought she had not been heard, but then the woman's shocked eyes met hers and she nodded mutely. "A boy. You're going to have a son."
The shocked look became one of understanding, and then a small smile began to blossom on her face. A moment later she was grinning in happiness and let out a disbelieving laugh.
"I've wanted to know for nine months, but I could only guess, and now…how do you know?"
Rómë laughed with her. "It is a elven gift if you will. But those trained specifically in the art of healing are more sensitive to such things. Are you pleased?"
Iselle nodded instantly. "Oh yes, we were hoping it was, Darin and I. Wait, what's happened? Where are you taking him?"
The twins had suddenly stood and moved across the room to the surgery. Elrond had lifted the young man in his arms and followed.
"No," Rómë said, and reached out to grab the woman's arm to prevent her from rising. "They are taking Darin into surgery, to fix his leg." I hope, she added silently. "We will only be in the way. You must stay here."
Iselle gave her a lost and helpless look but sat back against the pillows, one hand going to her swollen abdomen. "Will he be alright? I did not know what to do, except try to stop the bleeding. I did not even do that well, did I?" She sighed in resignation.
The younger twin squeezed her hand. "When did you last eat Iselle? Or sleep?"
Iselle seemed to consider this. "It was before we were robed. A day perhaps. Longer since I have slept."
"Come with me." She rose and, still holding the woman's hand, led her from the Hall. "It is the Solstice feast tonight, so everyone is in the Hall of Fire. The kitchen will be busy, but we will be able to find you something to eat. Do you want anything specifically? I understand mortal woman often have cravings for certain foods."
Iselle regarded her with disbelief. "You do not also have such cravings? I never thought…I mean, how different are your pregnancies from…ours?"
Rómë was momentarily at a loss. "Well, mortal woman carry a child for only nine months; for elven women it is a year. We seldom suffer from any sicknesses or general discomfort during that time. Elven women do not begin to show until the seventh month. Also, the husband and wife cannot be separated during the entire year. It is considered a tradition. The labor is generally short, only a few hours and there are seldom complications during it. It seems of all the elves only my mother has had any great difficulty during labor. Adar believes it is because of his Edain blood. My brothers," at this she motioned back towards the Healing Halls, "were born three weeks early, and Elrohir did not wish to emerge from the comfort of his mother's womb. My eldest sister, Arwen, her birth was perfectly normal, but my father remembers in horror when my sister and I were born. Twins are rare indeed among the elves, but female twins have never been born in our entire history. My mother had difficulty during the time she carried us, and she was in labor most of the night before we were born. She swore she would never let my father near her again if this was to be the outcome." She was becoming wrapped in the telling of her history and could not seem to stop herself. "There is only two other elven women that have ever had five or more children. One of them was Eärwen who is my mother's grandmother. Her youngest is Galadriel, she who is ruler of the Golden Wood. Men and dwarves call her a witch and a sorceress, but she is neither. Of all the elves left in Middle-earth she is the oldest and the greatest. My grandmother remembers the light of the Two Trees in Valinor. My people say that in her eyes alone is the last beauty of Laurelin and Telperion, and the Silmarils that were once so treasured of the Eldar. Ah, here we are."
The kitchens were indeed busy, but Arómenë left Iselle in a quiet corner outside and scrounged through the numerous leftovers for something simple and filling for the expecting mother. Returning to Iselle with a tray of different dishes, one of which she hoped would appeal, she beckoned her to follow. "Let us retire to my room. You can eat there, and try to get some sleep. My father will find us when he is finished."
She simply nodded at that and walked beside her host through the maze of hallways.
Sometime later a soft knock sounded upon the door, and Rómë rose to admit her father.
"How is he Ada? Were you able to save the leg?" She glanced furtively towards the bed where Iselle had fallen asleep only an hour or so before.
"Master Darin is in one of the recovery rooms. The surgery went well. One of the lower leg bones was severely broken, but it was not beyond repair. He will be long in recovering, but I believe he shall heal completely. They will have to remain here through the winter; Darin will not be able to walk until the fall. I would not let them go into the wild with winter coming on and a babe in arms. How is she?"
His daughter looked relieved at the good news. "She is well. She had not eaten or slept in more than a day, but I made certain she ate a good meal. She has been asleep but an hour yet and I would leave her until she wakes. The child seems well enough, but I explained to her you would probably wish to examine her. She says she is mere days away from birth and I would agree. I fear the shock of the last few days and the travel through the wilderness may have an difficult effect on the birth, but as I said, the child seems active and healthy. A boy."
Elrond smiled proudly at her assessment. "We shall let her sleep until morning. Darin shall be awake and aware by that time. Are you very tired iell nin? I must return to the party, but if you wish you may remain here and watch over our young mother."
It was a good excuse to not attend and they both knew it. "I will stay Ada. I do not want her to wake to an empty room. Where are the twins?"
"Elladan has gone to inform your mother of what has happened and Elrohir sits watch over Darin. I will bid you goodnight. If she should go into labor, find me immediately. Goodnight Rómë."
"Goodnight Ada," she kissed him softly on the cheek and shut the door quietly behind him.
The bed she sometimes shared with her sister, and it was quiet large enough to accommodate two people. She lay down near the edge, having given Iselle the centre and most of the pillows in order to make her comfortable. Before she gave in to elvish dreams she lay a gentle hand on the woman's swollen belly and felt the child kick softly within. Reassured of the health of both mother and child she settled herself against the remaining pillow and slept.