Author's Note: Only another chapter or so to go. But the climax is finally here!

Author's Note2: I recieved a flame very recently from 'Autumn'. In reply to your complaints: yes, Elrond is behaving in a slightly feminine manner. But then he is undergoing a pregnancy. There are hormones involved! Also he is feeling ridiculously weak at the moment due to his captivity. He has been in the back of a wagon for three months with no hope, knowing he is being sold as slave for breeding purpoes (which, by the way, is something he is ashamed of) and his daugher is to be sold as well to people who will likely want her only for her usefulness. Try living without nature for three months- even without an elvish connection to nature- and see how you are affected by the smell of fresh air! If there was something in particular, I would be honoured if you could send me your email address or something so we can sort this out. I'm not upset, truly; you're entitled to your opinion and certainly entitled to express it. Indeed, I'm happy you have! But I think I should be allowed to defend something I put so much effort into, don't you?
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"Keep him still," Herdir snapped, sending another man to light a fire and boil water in preparation for the operation.

Elrond bit back a cry of pain and kept his eyes closed very tight. His manacles had thankfully been removed, so he no longer had worry about that. But still, he currently had hold of the hand of his only friend in this place and concentrated on trying not to break every little bone in the appendage.

But as the hour crawled on, it was obvious that they were in for a long wait. And that worried everyone, for the Elf Lord was not in any condition to undergo a long labour, nor was it likely to benefit the child seeing as how it was two weeks too early.

With all the chaos in racing around anxiously, nobody in the camp noticed when a pair of blue eyes stared down at them from the boughs of a tree, or even when grey eyes watched them angrily from where they were hidden in the depths of the surrounding trees.

Aragorn looked to Legolas, who was currently gazing at the men as if to kill them with only a glance. And had such a thing been possible, the camp would have been nothing more than a large pile of ash. But the nudge he received from his foster brothers brought his attention back to the work at hand.

As far as the Ranger could see it, it would be more than easy. For the men seemed too distracted to notice them until it was too late. Legolas looked down and caught Elladan's nod.

The three on the ground drew their swords and the one in the tree readied his bow...

It was over in minutes! With the men kneeling on the ground while Legolas and Elrohir stood guard over them. The blond was visibly bouncing up and down as Aragorn and Elladan disappeared into the partially hidden wagon, a frown on his fair face that dissolved in a comical mixture of apprehension and delight as Aragorn's shout for Elrohir floated out.

"Stay here," the younger twin ordered, sprinting off to answer it. He wouldn't let himself believe the worst. But then again, the best would hurt too much too, so he kept his mind as neutral as it was possible, telling himself that it was nothing more than something they wanted his opinion on.

Until he was reaching for the canvas flap to pull it aside and a loud cry of pain came from inside. Then he dropped his sword and scrambled up, hauling himself in with wide eyes that strained to see in the darkness.

What he saw, were two white faces staring worriedly down at a writhing, squirming being who was so lost to his body that he barely registered who exactly it was who was holding him down.

"Ada!"

But another contraction hit and the Elf Lord responded only by biting down on a scream and ripping at Aragorn's hand. From the look on Aragorn's face, it hurt.

"Elladan, what..."

"Quickly, muindor nin, he is in labour. Take off your jacket and bring water. We have no time to move him; we perform the birth ourselves."

"But what if we can't find the child?" Elrohir was perfectly well aware that he wasn't making much sense, but he had the right to be panic- stricken, thank you very much!

His father glared up at him with frustrated grey eyes. "Do you imagine that my body is this size because I ate too much? The child is big enough to see in a dark room!"

"All right, all right! Hush, now! Elrohir, just get the water?" Elladan was torn between laughing and crying and decided that nobody would appreciate either of those options.

And in another part of the same forest- which was wondering why there was so much happening in its confines after years of being avoided by most living beings- a strange party of riders were chasing the trail that they had been told the party of four had taken.

Glorfindel promised himself that if this was another wild goose chase, he would go on no more in this frenetic way. In his heart of hearts, he knew he would break the promise, but after countless times racing to places where he hoped his Lord might be, he was getting too disheartened to keep going. But surely this time would be right? Surely this time?

He spared a glance for the healer who was insisting that they set this pace. Lady Galadriel had sent him to Imladris the minute she got word that her efforts had been in vain. Aurief had been turned over to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel until such time as Elrond was fit enough to give evidence against him. Not that they really needed any- Aurief had been so terrified by four hours locked into a room with Erestor that not only had the Steward come out looking like a smug Cheshire cat, but the Lothlorien elf had been more than happy to tell them everything he knew.

"Faster," he called, "We are almost there."

The journey that had taken five days on foot was no more than two and a half days on horse-back. And the riders pushed their mounts to their limits, anxious to reach the elusive Lord of Imladris if he truly did wait for them at journey's end.

And so the forest waited in wonder and watched. by On one side, there was the miraculous though very dangerous birthing process and on the other was the party of rescuers who were terrified about the situation on the first side going wrong! It was beautifully tangled and very complex; the forest was intrigued.

Legolas had relinquished his place to Aragorn and escaped to the dark confines where his child was being born. Though there was no sign of anything happening at the exact moment as the contractions were too erratic and Elrond had forbidden his sons to cut him until he told them.

"Melme, you cannot take much more," the blond tried to tell him, "You need to let Elladan finish this!"

"No," the half-elf pleaded, "Not yet. It will... will not help if it's..." he was cut off by a sharp shooting pain that had nothing to do with contractions. "You're right. Elladan, get on with it."

"Are- are you sure?" Elladan asked, feeling his nerves begin to fail him. Orcs he could slay, trolls he could face, but bring potential harm to his father and his sibling was too much.

Elrond gripped Legolas's hand so hard that the Prince let out a sudden yell and squirmed. But neither let go. They seemed to hold a quick conversation with their eyes and then Legolas turned pale and nodded to Elladan- "Hurry. And whatever happens, keep the child alive."

Elrond sighed with relief and seemed to lay down with peace. His features relaxed and his body no longer fought the pain for everything was all right. His daughter would be born and Legolas had promised to see to that. It was ironic, he thought dreamily, he had almost killed the child fearing he would be distracted from his duties and here he was, giving life to the elf-maiden who might one day save her race from some unspecified danger. Perhaps Herdir had done more good than he'd ever intended!

Elrohir was sent to get the healer's equipment and Elladan leaned over his Ada and began to chant him to sleep. Placing a hand over Elrond's closed eyes he murmured the hypnotic string of words that his Ada had taught him to use, sending him as far into the elvish dreamscape as he possibly could. Legolas kept a tight hold of his lover's hand, murmuring reassurances in his mind so as not to disturb anyone.

By the time Elrohir returned, they were ready and waiting. Aragorn wanted desperately to be there, to be with the elf who had given him home and family, but he couldn't risk leaving his captives to escape. Or could he? His ears were not as quick as elves' were, but he was certain that he could hear the thud of hoof beats. In which case... he dared to hope it was a good omen.

"Elladan, wait," he yelled, not dropping his sword or moving the direction of his gaze.

Elrohir stuck a very displeased head out of the wagon- "What is it, Estel?"

"Listen, Elrohir," the man called, "horses approach."

Elrohir's eyes went wide. "Oh Valar, not orcs too! I'll go mad!"

But they had all heard it too late and the horses burst into the clearing with fiery eyes and steaming flanks, the riders sliding off immediately to disperse and take efficient control.

Elrohir almost fell out to the snowy ground as he grabbed Glorfindel and pulled him to enter. "Ada's here," he babbled, "He's in labour. Elladan's going to... no, it's Glorfindel! And Haldir too, yes."

Elladan was obviously holding a conversation with his brother until a roar that sounded like Legolas seemed to remind everyone exactly what it was they were doing in this forest in the middle of winter. In which case, the healer was bundled in and his case of supplies tossed in after him. Glorfindel came to find Aragorn standing with his back to a tree and a hand over his eyes.

"How is he?" the seneschal asked anxiously.

Aragorn lowered his hand and shrugged. "He might not survive it," the man said carefully, "From what I saw he had been starved. He does not look very strong."

"Ai Elbereth," Glorfindel breathed, clenching his fists by his side, "Those pigs had better pray that his life is spared; else they will not escape to death without much pain."

Aragorn said nothing but the two walked slowly to the wagon where Haldir already stood, golden hair shining in the pale winter sunshine. He turned decisive silver eyes at them and wordlessly drew a flask from his pocket. "Here," he said, "I asked Erestor for this. You look worse than Lord Elrond sounds."

Aragorn thankfully accepted a mouthful or so of the miruvor and handed it to Glorfindel. Haldir had been right. In spite of being sent into the dull mists of sleep, there was enough pain that the unconscious father could not keep back the groans or soft cries of pain that he would normally have swallowed.

Inside, the situation was even worse. The healer looked very grave as he selected the right knife and decided where to make the cut. Now that clothes had been shucked and replaced by the cleanest blanket they could find, Elladan noticed a scar on his father that he had never seen before- a long, slender scar just below the navel where someone had obviously make a quick, clean incision.

Legolas felt every shred of pain as if it was his own and he trembled to take at least some of it on himself, to bear it so Elrond didn't have to. But there was nothing he could do except hold on and try to will his strength into the now frail body.

The healer looked from his knife to the others and then made his cut.

Elrohir felt his stomach shift but nobody shut their eyes, used at they were to blood. Even the blood of a parent was not something that could horrify them any longer. What did make them cringe was the shriek of pain that ripped from the pale throat of the reclining figure that began to thrash.

Glorfindel winced and snatched the flask back to gulp down as much of its contents as he could fit into his mouth. Haldir spared a wince of sympathy and Aragorn bit his lip and shifted. There was nothing they could do anything about! There was no foe they could fight, or battle they could win. It was a war for nature and the Lord of Imladris alone and they could only stand by and watch.

The blood was efficiently wiped away as fast as it ran as the healer leaned forward and widened the opening. Legolas mewled in disgust and protest as the sensitive hands slowly began to pull the wound open.

Elrohir growled but forced Elrond's shoulders back down to the cushioned floor. He hardened his heart against the piteous cries and did not look at anything except where the healer's hands disappeared into his father's body. Anything else could wait, he thought desperately, once the child is out everything will be all right.

Glorfindel was just ready to throw a fit and go take a long walk when another voice began to cry as well.

Everyone in the clearing stiffened and stared at each other.

The cries of a newborn infant sounded especially loud in the silence.

Legolas almost fell over, unconsciously squeezing the limp hand in his. His daughter was wriggling in Elladan's slender hands, covered in blood and mucus. She was red, wrinkled and wailing, and the Prince of Mirkwood was enchanted. She seemed the most miraculously beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Without knowing it, he turned to Elrond's glazed eyes and dropped a kiss on his cold forehead. "She's beautiful, Elrond," he whispered, "You were right. She is wonderful."

The healer exchanged a quick smile of knowing with the twins before asking for their help. His patient was bleeding far too much but he was confident that if he acted now everything would be fine. "Give the child to her father and assist me, my Lord."

Elladan nodded and carefully wrapped the little bundle of life in a blanket. Grinning his congratulations, he placed the child in Legolas' arms and turned away.

Legolas was, in short, terrified. This was no bow or knife or even something that could protect itself! This was a baby and what if he broke it? But then puffy eyes stared up at him and he felt the unaccustomed urge to coo like an elf-maiden at the sight of something so cute. He settled the child in one arm and returned to holding the cold hand that also needed him.

"Ssh," he whispered, though not quite sure who it was he was talking to, "everything will be fine. Everything will be all right."

For an hour the healer and the twins fought for the life of the prone Elf Lord, but finally he was breathing evenly, his eyes shut as his body slipped into an exhausted sleep. Legolas' lip was bleeding from where he had bitten it too hard and the child was getting restless.

"It's over," the healer said tiredly, washing his bloodied hands in the basin of water.

Elladan joined him and then took the child back. "She needs to be cleaned, Legolas."

Elrohir, stole her in his turn with a wide grin. "You've already held her," he teased, "Let me do this."

The Mirkwood archer stumbled out and stretched the knots from his spine and legs. He did not look to the three who were anxiously regarding him; he was too overwhelmed. After everything that had happened, he couldn't believe that everything was all right!

"Well?" Glorfindel was developing a nervous tick in one eye and Aragorn was tight-lipped in dread.

"The child lives," Legolas said neutrally, not looking up, "A girl, like Elrond said."

"Legolas!" That was Aragorn's temper getting the better of him.

Then the blond turned, letting his wet eyes speak for him. And just when Glorfindel was about to collapse thinking that his Lord had departed his world and that he had failed him, Legolas began to smile. The smile stretched into a grin. Soon the grin was wide enough to light the world!

"He will survive," the healer broke in, climbing stiffly down, "It was a battle, but he has a strong will. The child is beautiful in every way. Lord Glorfindel, I do not, however, encourage you to move either of them for at least another day. For one thing, he will likely go into shock if you do, and I would like him to wake first."

Glorfindel nodded vigorously, blue eyes wide and eager. He looked to Legolas who nodded, still grinning and disappeared into the wagon for a while.

Haldir looked amused to see Aragorn and Glorfindel hop impatiently from foot to foot. But the second that the proud father reappeared with his child held gently in his arms, the two almost melted into the snow. Whatever it was with children, Haldir laughed, this one would never lack for allies.