Glorfindel had not dared to run in the more public areas of the house.
Elrond would not forgive him if he attracted attention to his illness. But
it took every ounce of willpower that the elf possessed to walk as fast as
he dared to the table and beckon Elladan and Elrohir out to the hallways.
As if on cue, everyone stood and followed the three.
"Your father is ill," Glorfindel whispered.
Elladan tried to run but Glorfindel grasped his arm and held it tight- "Do not be so foolish! He will not thank us to cause a panic amongst the servants. He is embarrassed enough with his condition to have it generally known."
The group walked as quickly as was possible to the entrance to the corridor in the family wing where Elrond was apparently left. Arwen gasped as she spied the unconscious figure of her father, unpleasant reminders of her mother running through her head. Elladan and Elrohir were met halfway by Legolas who was so shocked he could barely talk through his stammer.
"H-he f-f-f-fainted," the blond stuttered, "I- I tried to rouse him, b-but it-it d-didn't seem to be any use!"
Glorfindel picked Elrond up, not trusting anyone else with the limp body of his Lord and Elrohir ran down to the Healing Rooms to get as much equipment as he could without arousing anyone's suspicions. Elladan went ahead to his father's private study; or more precisely to the room next to his private study that Elrond kept for healing emergencies. As it contained an even bigger variety of healing ingredients and prepared potions and pastes, he did not send Elrohir to get any more.
It was no more than a minute later that Elrond was laid down on the couch in the little room. Aragorn appointed himself chief consoler and kept both Arwen and Legolas- who for some strange reason was very upset- out of the way in the study next door. He feared Legolas himself would fall ill as the elf paled at the sight of the set of operating knives Elrohir carried in one hand.
"What is wrong with him?" Legolas demanded, his mind whirling at the sickness. Elves never got sick! Maybe it was a condition peculiar to half- elves? Drat the elf, his mind muttered bitterly, had I known I would not have... have what? He wasn't in love, surely; he was too young!
"Ada's ill," Arwen murmured distractedly, pacing about the room very much like her father did when he was worrying, "Aragorn, what if he dies?"
The man wrapped a comforting arm around her and shushed her. "He will not die. Elladan and Elrohir are skilled, and Glorfindel has assisted Lord Elrond in many such endeavours. They will keep him safe."
He didn't need to say that many females already died during childbirth or during miscarriages when the bleeding wouldn't stop. Arwen already knew that. She buried her head against the soothing smell of Aragorn's shirt and let a few tears roll down.
Legolas wanted very badly to be comforted as well. But the one person's presence he craved the most was inside being cut open with a knife that looked capable of gutting a horse! Suppressing a groan of despair he curled into Elrond's chair and breathed in the familiar smell of parchment and trees that always seemed to haunt the half-elf, lost in remembrance of their few stolen nights together. He did not notice Aragorn's blue eyes slit with thought as the man watched his elven friend behave in a thoroughly love-lorn way.
Inside the room- though very far from being gutted- Elrond was barely coming to under the watchful eyes of his sons and seneschal. He raised a hand to his head and blinked dazedly at the muted blue ceiling that met his eyes. There was only one room like that in the whole house- the small room beside his study. What was he doing there?
"Elladan?" he called. He sat up and remembered as a pounding headache made its presence felt.
Elrohir silently dipped a soft cloth into cool water and handed it to his father. Elrond took it with a piteous moan of thanks and held it to his eyes. Hands pushed him back down to the couch and then one pair pushed his under-tunic out of the way and began to examine him.
"My Lord, I am sorry," Glorfindel whispered, leaning across to touch his hand.
"For what?" Elrond asked thickly, lifting the cloth off one eye to look at him.
"For upsetting you," Glorfindel seemed almost to be cringing, "For- for almost hitting you in your condition. I should not have done so; I am so very sorry. Saes, mellon nin, forgive me!"
"Glorfindel, you donkey, you did nothing!" Oh, but how his head pounded! He replaced the cloth hurriedly and continued his reassurances without sight. "I was feeling the pain before that. And it was not a reaction to anything you said or did. I think this will be a difficult pregnancy, though. The signs are not very good if I have fainted twice in two months and there is pain."
Elladan chimed in- "I can find nothing wrong with you, Ada. The child seems fine. There was a little bleeding but it has stopped. I, uh, do not know how to drain the blood, though."
"It will exit as the child went in," Elrond answered carefully, still hiding behind his cloth, "Now, more than ever, I must take that potion. Elrohir, could you bring it in here? I will take it now."
"Where is it?" Elrohir asked, feeling the temperature in the room rise as Glorfindel began to glower.
"In the second drawer of my desk," Elrond supplied, "A small glass bottle with a leaf-shaped stopper. The liquid is clear and looks like fine oil."
"Elrond, have you thought of how the father might feel?" Glorfindel asked carefully. He knew he shouldn't get involved; it was not his business what Elrond did in his private life. But this was a child and Glorfindel had a soft spot for children, just as he knew Elrond too did. Though in Elrond's case, it was more intense.
Elrond ripped the cloth off his eyes and sat up in shock as a thought occurred to him- "Legolas is still in Imladris, is he not?" he hissed. Elladan nodded. "Why?"
"He joined us on patrol and we would not let him travel back to Mirkwood alone when the messenger came to tell us of your illness," Elladan answered.
"I have the poison," Elrohir called.
Elrond snatched it convulsively and then stared helplessly from Glorfindel to the bottle and back again. It would be so easy to drink it down in the presence of witnesses. And his body would return to normal after a week, with no one the wiser. Even Legolas could be sent back home and told it was merely a rare form of sickness made worse by work and exhaustion.
Sighing, Elrond put the vial aside and got to his feet. Elladan handed him something to take to ease his headache and that was the end. He asked that Legolas and Arwen be taken out of his study so that he could go and rest, and that Legolas be brought to his study on the morrow for an explanation. The three other elves nodded and left him to gather himself into a charade of his old serenity.
And on the morrow, the practise of doing so came in very handy:
"Legolas, I called you in because..." Elrond stopped and licked his lips nervously. This was quite the worst thing he'd ever had to do and frankly he wished the other elf in Mordor for all the affection he bore him at this point. But seeing as how Legolas was wide-eyed and patently unaware of the grudge borne against him, Elrond could only sigh and get on with it.
"I'm pregnant," he said tiredly.
Legolas blinked and twitched. Automatically his eyes travelled down to the other elf's stomach as if morbidly terrified of seeing a sudden bulge beneath the robes. But he discarded the words a moment later when he saw Elrond's body was as fit and non-pregnant as always.
"It's your child."
Legolas rose slowly from his chair and backed toward the door. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the Elf Lord still sitting calmly in his chair, hands folded neatly in his lap as if he wasn't spouting the most insane rubbish the younger male had ever heard. A hand reached back and as soon as it touched the doorknob, Legolas was gone, sprinting down the corridor as if the hounds of hell were after him.
Glorfindel watched the blurry shape race past with a wondering look on his face. He'd always know Legolas was a fast runner- indeed the muscles of his legs and his slender body proclaimed it- but he'd not known he was that fast! And why so terrified?
Aragorn shook his head as he stood by the blond's side and watched too. Glorfindel turned to look enquiringly at him as Aragorn began to make for the direction Legolas had headed in, a long-suffering look of concern on his face. "It's a long story," the man called back, "But I think Elrond just told him."
Light dawned and the Balrog Slayer nodded, returning to his work with his mind at peace. Well, if it was only shock at finding the Lord of Imladris with child, he concluded, that was quite all right.
"Your father is ill," Glorfindel whispered.
Elladan tried to run but Glorfindel grasped his arm and held it tight- "Do not be so foolish! He will not thank us to cause a panic amongst the servants. He is embarrassed enough with his condition to have it generally known."
The group walked as quickly as was possible to the entrance to the corridor in the family wing where Elrond was apparently left. Arwen gasped as she spied the unconscious figure of her father, unpleasant reminders of her mother running through her head. Elladan and Elrohir were met halfway by Legolas who was so shocked he could barely talk through his stammer.
"H-he f-f-f-fainted," the blond stuttered, "I- I tried to rouse him, b-but it-it d-didn't seem to be any use!"
Glorfindel picked Elrond up, not trusting anyone else with the limp body of his Lord and Elrohir ran down to the Healing Rooms to get as much equipment as he could without arousing anyone's suspicions. Elladan went ahead to his father's private study; or more precisely to the room next to his private study that Elrond kept for healing emergencies. As it contained an even bigger variety of healing ingredients and prepared potions and pastes, he did not send Elrohir to get any more.
It was no more than a minute later that Elrond was laid down on the couch in the little room. Aragorn appointed himself chief consoler and kept both Arwen and Legolas- who for some strange reason was very upset- out of the way in the study next door. He feared Legolas himself would fall ill as the elf paled at the sight of the set of operating knives Elrohir carried in one hand.
"What is wrong with him?" Legolas demanded, his mind whirling at the sickness. Elves never got sick! Maybe it was a condition peculiar to half- elves? Drat the elf, his mind muttered bitterly, had I known I would not have... have what? He wasn't in love, surely; he was too young!
"Ada's ill," Arwen murmured distractedly, pacing about the room very much like her father did when he was worrying, "Aragorn, what if he dies?"
The man wrapped a comforting arm around her and shushed her. "He will not die. Elladan and Elrohir are skilled, and Glorfindel has assisted Lord Elrond in many such endeavours. They will keep him safe."
He didn't need to say that many females already died during childbirth or during miscarriages when the bleeding wouldn't stop. Arwen already knew that. She buried her head against the soothing smell of Aragorn's shirt and let a few tears roll down.
Legolas wanted very badly to be comforted as well. But the one person's presence he craved the most was inside being cut open with a knife that looked capable of gutting a horse! Suppressing a groan of despair he curled into Elrond's chair and breathed in the familiar smell of parchment and trees that always seemed to haunt the half-elf, lost in remembrance of their few stolen nights together. He did not notice Aragorn's blue eyes slit with thought as the man watched his elven friend behave in a thoroughly love-lorn way.
Inside the room- though very far from being gutted- Elrond was barely coming to under the watchful eyes of his sons and seneschal. He raised a hand to his head and blinked dazedly at the muted blue ceiling that met his eyes. There was only one room like that in the whole house- the small room beside his study. What was he doing there?
"Elladan?" he called. He sat up and remembered as a pounding headache made its presence felt.
Elrohir silently dipped a soft cloth into cool water and handed it to his father. Elrond took it with a piteous moan of thanks and held it to his eyes. Hands pushed him back down to the couch and then one pair pushed his under-tunic out of the way and began to examine him.
"My Lord, I am sorry," Glorfindel whispered, leaning across to touch his hand.
"For what?" Elrond asked thickly, lifting the cloth off one eye to look at him.
"For upsetting you," Glorfindel seemed almost to be cringing, "For- for almost hitting you in your condition. I should not have done so; I am so very sorry. Saes, mellon nin, forgive me!"
"Glorfindel, you donkey, you did nothing!" Oh, but how his head pounded! He replaced the cloth hurriedly and continued his reassurances without sight. "I was feeling the pain before that. And it was not a reaction to anything you said or did. I think this will be a difficult pregnancy, though. The signs are not very good if I have fainted twice in two months and there is pain."
Elladan chimed in- "I can find nothing wrong with you, Ada. The child seems fine. There was a little bleeding but it has stopped. I, uh, do not know how to drain the blood, though."
"It will exit as the child went in," Elrond answered carefully, still hiding behind his cloth, "Now, more than ever, I must take that potion. Elrohir, could you bring it in here? I will take it now."
"Where is it?" Elrohir asked, feeling the temperature in the room rise as Glorfindel began to glower.
"In the second drawer of my desk," Elrond supplied, "A small glass bottle with a leaf-shaped stopper. The liquid is clear and looks like fine oil."
"Elrond, have you thought of how the father might feel?" Glorfindel asked carefully. He knew he shouldn't get involved; it was not his business what Elrond did in his private life. But this was a child and Glorfindel had a soft spot for children, just as he knew Elrond too did. Though in Elrond's case, it was more intense.
Elrond ripped the cloth off his eyes and sat up in shock as a thought occurred to him- "Legolas is still in Imladris, is he not?" he hissed. Elladan nodded. "Why?"
"He joined us on patrol and we would not let him travel back to Mirkwood alone when the messenger came to tell us of your illness," Elladan answered.
"I have the poison," Elrohir called.
Elrond snatched it convulsively and then stared helplessly from Glorfindel to the bottle and back again. It would be so easy to drink it down in the presence of witnesses. And his body would return to normal after a week, with no one the wiser. Even Legolas could be sent back home and told it was merely a rare form of sickness made worse by work and exhaustion.
Sighing, Elrond put the vial aside and got to his feet. Elladan handed him something to take to ease his headache and that was the end. He asked that Legolas and Arwen be taken out of his study so that he could go and rest, and that Legolas be brought to his study on the morrow for an explanation. The three other elves nodded and left him to gather himself into a charade of his old serenity.
And on the morrow, the practise of doing so came in very handy:
"Legolas, I called you in because..." Elrond stopped and licked his lips nervously. This was quite the worst thing he'd ever had to do and frankly he wished the other elf in Mordor for all the affection he bore him at this point. But seeing as how Legolas was wide-eyed and patently unaware of the grudge borne against him, Elrond could only sigh and get on with it.
"I'm pregnant," he said tiredly.
Legolas blinked and twitched. Automatically his eyes travelled down to the other elf's stomach as if morbidly terrified of seeing a sudden bulge beneath the robes. But he discarded the words a moment later when he saw Elrond's body was as fit and non-pregnant as always.
"It's your child."
Legolas rose slowly from his chair and backed toward the door. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the Elf Lord still sitting calmly in his chair, hands folded neatly in his lap as if he wasn't spouting the most insane rubbish the younger male had ever heard. A hand reached back and as soon as it touched the doorknob, Legolas was gone, sprinting down the corridor as if the hounds of hell were after him.
Glorfindel watched the blurry shape race past with a wondering look on his face. He'd always know Legolas was a fast runner- indeed the muscles of his legs and his slender body proclaimed it- but he'd not known he was that fast! And why so terrified?
Aragorn shook his head as he stood by the blond's side and watched too. Glorfindel turned to look enquiringly at him as Aragorn began to make for the direction Legolas had headed in, a long-suffering look of concern on his face. "It's a long story," the man called back, "But I think Elrond just told him."
Light dawned and the Balrog Slayer nodded, returning to his work with his mind at peace. Well, if it was only shock at finding the Lord of Imladris with child, he concluded, that was quite all right.