Author's Note: People's prayers have been answered. The father is even now in this chapter!

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The next morning was covered in a fine, misty glaze and it seemed particularly fitting to Elrond to wake up to such a grey day. The day had finally come, and if he admitted, so had the hour- he was going to swallow the poison and end his troubles.

Except that it was the first morning without sickness!

"Traitor," he glowered down to his unformed child, well aware that anyone watching him would have doubts for his sanity. "You deliberately planned this, did you not?"

The child, of course, had no reply for him.

Elrond forgot his troubles as the peace of the pre-dawn coolness took his senses far away. At times like this it was his wont to pity Celebrian for losing all interest in Arda for the never-ending perfection of Valinor. It seemed very insulting to the land that had harboured their kind for so long and while it had its low points, Elrond was quite content to walk Middle Earth.

He went in to breakfast amidst raised eyebrows. Erestor had been instructed to tell his immediate family the reason why he would not attend the meal and here he was, sitting down with a fairly hearty appetite and no sign of sickness or pain. The fact that he was avoiding everyone's eyes said enough for his indecisiveness.

"You did not do it, did you, Ada?" Elladan asked bluntly.

Elrond looked up, flushed just a little and shook his head, sipping at tea that was suddenly too hot for his tongue. He was hungry, but the unbroken attention was making him self-conscious. He felt the little prickles of cold that ran up his spine as he thought of how rash he was being.

"Ada, will you or will you not take the potion?" Elrohir asked softly.

Glorfindel and Aragorn shot the younger twin a warning look but Elrond himself did not respond. Merely he began to eat, as if it were any other day and nothing was the matter. But the tremble in his hands gave him away to his daughter, who touched his shoulder. He looked at her with a surprised glance and she smiled and nodded.

"How did you sleep, Ada?" she asked simply.

Elrond debated the question, sifting suspiciously through it in search of hidden sarcasm. There was none. "Very well, when I finally slept," he admitted.

"That is good. You worked too long into the night yesterday," Arwen said.

The words were light, loving and completely unconcerned with pregnancies. Erestor cleared his throat and took up Arwen's example. And for a time peace reigned. Those, like Elladan and Elrohir, who could not bring themselves to put aside their doubts kept silent, and those who did talked of anything and everything just like they always did. And sentence by sentence Glorfindel noticed that Elrond relaxed just a little more.

By the time the group was laughing over a ridiculous story of a missing saddlebag, Elrond was positively happy. The blond elf was a little taken aback at the sudden smile he received for his part in the conversation. The Lord of Imladris was not usually this responsive or open about anything, even with his family. Yet there he was laughing and talking as if it was the best day on Arda.

"My Lord, why do you not take the day off," he suggested impulsively.

Grey eyes turned to him in astonished enquiry. As did every other pair of eyes at the table.

"It is a good day to relax," he explained awkwardly, "And though I am loath to bring it up, you have been under a high level of stress lately."

The silence was deafening as he eluded to the one topic they had tacitly agreed not to bring up. Elrond himself blushed and bent his head, his braids swinging forward into his eyes. Or they did, until the Balrog Slayer sighed and groaned in a rather comical manner.

"That is not what I meant! You have been so pressured lately that it is a wonder you can still remember what the sunshine looks like! Go out; enjoy a ride through the woods or a walk in the gardens; replenish your herb supply or climb a tree; take a swim; talk to nature- just go do something does not involve a pen and parchment! Is that too much for a friend to suggest?"

Elrond blinked and shook his head. Glorfindel was actually looking upset. "But there's work," he ventured.

It was quite the wrong thing to say- "There's always work! And it isn't going to get any less whether you do it today or do it tomorrow."

Under Glorfindel's stern eye, Elrond let out a 'meep' and agreed. Besides, he reminded himself, he needed to go take the potion. His spirits sank immediately and he pushed away his food. He did not want the child, but he did not want to kill it either. Unfortunately he had an obligation to the other elves around- and outside of his lands- and he needed to concentrate on the troubles at hand. All his life had been immersed in duty and war, and he could not afford to simply think of himself now. He muttered his leave-taking and made for the door, intent on completing the task he had set for himself.

Glorfindel frowned slightly at the sight, wondering what was in his old friend's head to make him behave as such. Elladan and Elrohir were equally as confused, though Arwen was astute enough to glare at Glorfindel for ruining her Ada's mood so securely.

Erestor's voice was almost an interruption- "He goes to take the poison."

"What!" Glorfindel was out of his seat and striding for the door before the others had even blinked, his blue eyes flashing fire and brimstone.

"You don't think it possible?" Arwen asked delicately, "Ada isn't carrying Glorfindel's child, is he?"

Elladan swallowed thickly at the very thought, but Aragorn and Elrohir shared a quiet snigger behind their hands. "I don't think so," Aragorn remarked, "Glorfindel doesn't, uh, like males." Neither would answer how they knew, and Arwen and Elladan made a tacit agreement between them to corner the secretive twosome alone somewhere and wrest it out of them by force if need be.

Meanwhile, Glorfindel was having an agitated discussion with the Lord he had sworn allegiance to. At that moment however, he just felt like swearing. "Elrond, why need you abort the child?"

"It's... I just cannot have the child! Glorfindel, I have a duty to others around me and having this child will interfere with them."

Glorfindel shook his head in dazed wonder- "You still think of it as a curse, do you not? But it is not! It is a miracle sent by the Valar!"

Children were a blessing to the elves, seeing as how most couples would only beget two even in their eternal lifetime together. Twins were an even rarer sight. And for Elrond of all people to have not only borne twins but also four children in total, would be absolutely miraculous indeed! Only, Glorfindel was willing to bet good money that the Peredhel did not see it that way.

"Be that as it may, it has come at exactly the wrong time."

Elrond was determined, his face paled and drawn but set in decisive lines. Glorfindel knew that look; his Lord's stubbornness was known to everyone who knew the half-elf. But he also knew what Erestor had told him. And Erestor had told him of how Celebrien had carefully selected the male who would lie with her husband, hating herself and him for having to do so, had told him how the family had sunk into misery when she lost her second child in the space of fifty years and of the soldier who was the real other parent of both the twins and Arwen. And his heart had bled for the carefully hidden shame that Elrond had carried inside himself for the six millennia he had never told the truth.

"You cannot kill the child simply because it is inconvenient," Glorfindel argued.

"I can and will because she is my child and I am her father and this cannot be," Elrond cried, in enough pain as it was because something seemed to be wrong. He was beginning to feel slight twinges of pain in his abdomen, flickering slowly like feather-light touches. Indeed, he didn't even know if it was pain or something else; but instinctively he did not like it and it scared him.

Legolas had woken late, having been deliberately tired out by Glorfindel the day before with a bout of swordplay that had degenerated into a virtual battle of wills. His shoulders ached and the muscles of his legs were sore; it had taken all his lithe quickness to avoid being beaten too easily.

He hurried to the dining hall, fastening the last braid into his hair with the aid of a simple gold clip when he was confronted by the sight of the two most revered elves in Imladris arguing and shouting at each other. His mouth agape, he stared as the blond seneschal gripped a fistful of the half- elf's robe in his hand and hefted, watched in wonder as Elrond's slender fingers fastened around that wrist with enough force to crush the bone.

"Stop! My Lords, what is going on here?"

Elrond and Glorfindel let go of each other so fast that the dark-haired elf stumbled backwards into a pillar. But something was definitely wrong by now. Elrond shrank back against the wall and then hunched over with a cry as a sharp shooting pain swept through him like a poison-tipped arrow. Falling to the ground, he cried out for Glorfindel, who instantly scooped him up and asked frantically what was the matter.

"Get Elladan," Elrond gasped. Of the two sons, his eldest was the most gifted healer. And as none of the other healers in Imladris knew of his condition, he did not want to cause a scandal by involving them.

Glorfindel nodded tersely and bade Legolas stay with him.

Elrond tried to protest but another wave of pain hit through him and his vision swam with black spots. By the time they had cleared, Glorfindel was gone. And he was left alone with one of the last elves on Arda that he had ever wanted to see.

"What are you doing here," he whispered, one hand pressed tight to his abdomen, expertly applying the exact amount of pressure, "You were meant... Ai Elbereth! Oh Valar, this is too much!"

"What is wrong? Are you ill? Is there naught I can do?" Legolas was obviously upset and beside himself, smoothing a hand over the disarrayed dark hair and a heated cheek that flinched away as if he had struck it.

Elrond wanted to laugh. Naught the young one could do? Oh, but hadn't Legolas done enough? For there, before him, sat the father of his unborn child! And his last thought as darkness overwhelmed him was that he was trapped in some kind of nightmare and the Valar had better be enjoying the farce they had turned his life into.