"That guard, Estel," reported Elladan, "is an idiot."

"We came here not even thirty minutes ago with news," Elrohir elaborated as he watched his irritated twin pace at the foot of the bed. "He told us that you two wouldn't see anyone unless the circumstances were dire; no matter what we told him, it was always 'unless the circumstance were dire' over and over again. That would've been annoying enough, but he then he had to come down just when we got comfortable and order us to come back up all those stairs because you requested our presence."

"He was just doing his duty," Legolas informed them serenely.

Thranduil scoffed in his chair beside the bed which – must to Aragorn's growing discomfort – the royal couple were still in. "That nitwit was not going to allow me to enter either," he pointed out.

Legolas discretely squeezed Aragorn's hand as the king swallowed a groan. "I'm glad that he takes his duty as seriously as he does," Aragorn managed to get out, feeling slightly nauseous as visions of his father-in-law barging in day and night still plagued him. Really now, how much more could he stand?

"Let's not belittle some poor guard who's not even here to defend himself," scolded Legolas. "We didn't ask for you two before we were even out of bed and dressed for the day to gossip. You said you have some news?"

Elladan stopped his pacing and stood next to Elrohir at the end of the bed. "Not news, exactly," he amended. "We haven't had the time or resources to gather actual news. But we have come up with some theories."

"Theories?" repeated Thranduil, obviously not impressed. While he respected – even liked, on some level – Elrond's twin sons, he wasn't about to trust his son's well being to their theories.

"I'm afraid that theories are the best that you'll get," said Elrohir apologetically, looking at Legolas and Aragorn after sparing the elven king only the barest of glances. "This kind of thing really hasn't happened before. There's not going to be any definite answers out there."

"That's quite all right," assured Legolas, tossing his father a Look that he inherited from him. "Any answers, definite or not, will be most welcome. Do you" – he ran his hand over his stomach and beamed – "do you know how I was able to conceive?"

"I don't..." Elrohir hesitated before taking a deep breath and plunging forward: "When male elves stopped conceiving it was attributed to the coming of the shadow. And I still believe it was, but not in the way that everyone thought. I don't think that male elves ever lost the ability to bear children."

"What?" demanded Thranduil with a snort. "The health and lives of my child and grandchild are at stake and that is the best you can do?"

Aragorn couldn't stand it any longer. He bore Thranduil's attitude the best he could, but there was no reason why his brothers should have to as well. "My brothers," he spat out, "are doing us an enormous favor by devoting so much of their time to this when they could have passed it off to any healer. I won't tolerate anyone being so rude to them in my private quarters of all places!"

Like a snake getting ready to strike, Thranduil tensed and glared. "How dare" –

"He's right, Ada!" jumped in Legolas. He was pregnant – why was his husband and father putting him in this position now? "I love you and I know that you're just surprised and worried, but you're a guest here and the twins are members of my family too. If you can't be patient then you need to leave."

The incredibly hurt expression that crossed Thranduil's face almost drove Legolas to apologize but he caught himself just in time. "Please continue, Elrohir," he nodded as his father slumped back in his seat.

Elrohir shot him a barely perceptible smile. "There's nothing in the lore books here, nor in any of our lessons as far as we can remember, that said that male elves couldn't bear children."

"That exact quotation was 'The birth of the firstborn decreased when the Dark Lord rose, diminishing entirely among male elves,'" added Elladan.

"Male elves have always had more choice when it came to matters of conception," Elrohir continued, his cheeks flushed with excitement and his eyes bright. "It stands to reason, then, that when Sauron first rose they despaired and would not conceive, not wanting to bear children into such darkness. And, of course, the fading times came after the Last Alliance. The hope of elves was no longer in Middle Earth but in Valinor; and the last time an elf – male or female – conceived on these shores after the first 100 years or so of the Third Age."

"But you, Legolas," broke in Elladan with a grin. "Your hope remains in Middle Earth, and the world of Men; your life and your future is here."

Legolas nodded slowly as he mulled this over. "Because of my love for Aragorn."

"Exactly," said Elladan, making his way over to Legolas' side and resting his hand on his belly. "And this child, you can say, is what that love brought into being."

Aragorn had to blink back his tears as he wrapped his arms around his husband. "And I thought that our love couldn't be any more amazing," he whispered, planting a kiss into the side of his head.

Legolas turned in the embrace and gave him a chaste kiss of the lips. "You've given me so much," he replied, his voice choked with emotion. "Now because of you I have something that was thought to be impossible."

Elladan cleared his throat. "We are still in the room, you know," he teased in a singsong voice. "And there's still a few more things that we need to discuss. Not the least of which was I hear was brought up by our dear Master Peregrin yesterday after we left: just how the baby's going to actually exit your body."

"I haven't really thought about that yet," admitted Legolas, faltering a bit.

"And how exactly is that supposed to happen?" asked Aragorn cautiously, fearing that they were about to ask him to do something...invasive.

"We haven't quite figured that out yet," Elrohir told him. "There weren't many details in the lore books here and we can't exactly draw on personal experience. We were never around a pregnant male, at least not as far back as we can remember."

"I was."

Four sets of eyes turned to Thranduil, who was still stewing in his seat. "I lived in the time before Sauron's rise," he reminded them curtly. "The condition of pregnant males are not as mysterious to me as they are to almost everyone else left in Middle Earth."

"Do you recall anything specific about the male childbirth process?" asked Elladan.

"No," he replied stiffly. "I was not a healer. However, I do know that pregnancy is invariably a bigger strain on the male body. They require more care during that time."

"We need more information," Elrohir stressed to his twin. "But I'm afraid that we've exhausted the most useful resources here. The only thing left to do is go back to Rivendell."

"You can't!" protested Aragorn. He clutched Legolas closer, feeling the elf's grip tighten on his arm. "You two are the only healers in the city qualified to take care of Legolas. And you can't take him with you – look what happened last time!"

"Relax, Estel," ordered Elrohir with a wave of his hand. "Legolas isn't going to be leaving with us and he'll be fine here. You just need to get more rest, my friend; don't go traipsing all over Middle Earth or battling a mumakil or anything and you'll be just fine. That Ioreth woman has expressed a rather, um, keen interest in learning all she can. We can sufficiently prepare her to take care of your basic health needs before we depart. And just to be on the safe side" – he shot Aragorn an apologetic look –"it might be wise for King Thranduil to remain close-at-hand as well."

"That sounds like a good idea," agreed Legolas, still shaky after thinking about all the ways the baby could come out of his body.  Thranduil sat up a little straighter.  "We can have a room prepared for you immediately, Ada."

Aragorn couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Excuse me?" he blurted out before he could fully consider the consequences.

"I just told my father," answered Legolas testily, giving Aragorn a look that reminded him plainly that he was his father's child, "that he can stay with us. I really need him to be around right now, when I don't always feel my best and have a little trouble controlling my emotions; is that fine with you?"

"Now, now, my Little Greenleaf," soothed Thranduil, barely disguising his amusement. "I do not want to stay where I am not welcome."

"You're welcome. He's welcome, right Aragorn?"

The hand on his arm squeezed painfully. "Yes," Aragorn squeaked out. Funny, knowing the source of Legolas' mood swings didn't make them any less scary.

"Smart call," observed Elladan wryly.

Aragorn gave him a long-suffering look. "When will you two have to leave?"

"We'll be able to stay until after the reception."

The reception! The meeting of leaders from all over Middle Earth was going to begin with a welcoming reception tonight. The dignitaries were probably arriving even as they spoke. "I completely forgot about that," Aragorn groaned.

"Well, thankfully all you have to do as king is show up and make small talk," Elladan told him. "Although I would suggest that it will also be the ideal opportunity to announce the good news."

"Is that really a good idea?" frowned Legolas. "The people of Gondor may be prepared for the news, but the dignitaries..."

The twins exchanged a knowing glance. "You have to do it soon," advised Elrohir. "After all, you're pretty far along. Five or six months, I would say."

"Five or six months?" How much more could Aragorn handle? "But he's –"

"He was always a little too thin," stated Elladan. "And he's been active. Any weight that he's gained is mostly the baby. From the strength of their connection we can safely assume that Legolas is entering the final few months of pregnancy."

Thranduil jumped up. "Come now," he told the twins. "Let's leave them to prepare for the day. You two need to pack and I need to send for my things."

Aragorn flopped back on the bed as soon as the door closed. "We should just hide in here until tomorrow morning," he suggested.

Pushing the covers away roughly, Legolas stormed out of bed. "What was that all about?" he demanded. "Why were you so rude about my father coming to stay with us?"

"I was a little surprised," shot back Aragorn defensively. "What were you doing inviting him to stay here without even asking me?"

"You didn't ask me before you told the twins that they could stay here," Legolas reminded him fiercely. "Or do I have to ask your permission in all matters that concerns this living space? I'm sorry; I was under the impression that it was ours."

Aragorn gritted his teeth. "You know that's not true!" he snapped. "But the twins are family – you said so yourself."

"Ada is family too," argued Legolas.

"But you can't want him to stay here for the next three or four months."

"I happen to like my father," was Legolas' testy response. "And since I have to remain rested, it would be nice to have someone here who's only concern is taking care of me and keeping me company. You can't exactly neglect your role as king until the baby comes."

"He doesn't even like me," protested Aragorn. "Why do I have to live with someone who doesn't like me?"

"That's not entirely true. And anyway, you don't like him either. You've never even tried to like him!"

"How can you say that?" asked Aragorn, flabbergasted. "I've been bending over backwards to please him for years!"

"To make him like you," said Legolas shortly. "But have you ever tried to get to know him? To find out why he is like he is? No, all you've been doing is trying to say and do what you think he wants and resenting it. And all he sees is you acting phony around him. My father values honestly above all else, Aragorn. It puts him off to see you behave in such a manner."

Before Aragorn could respond, Legolas clapped his hand over his mouth and dropped to his knees. "I need –"he choked out.

Aragorn grabbed a bowl off of a table within arm's reach of the bed and sprang up, giving it to his husband just in time for his bout of morning sickness. "Let's not do this," he said, holding back Legolas' hair. "I don't want to fight with you."

"I know," Legolas half-sobbed, still trying to get his body under control. "I hate fighting with you."

Feeling pangs of remorse at the sight of the elf feeling so miserable, Aragorn sighed. "When your father comes back, I'll apologize."

"Thank you," said Legolas emphatically. "And I'll tell him to be nicer to you. But you have to at least try to meet him halfway."

"All right," replied Aragorn calmly, helping him off his knees. "But at the moment you should probably get a little rest. Maybe you shouldn't come to the reception tonight, either. I don't want you to over-exert yourself."

"I'm fine," Legolas told him. "Morning sickness is nothing new to me or any other pregnant being. I've been through Moria, Helm's Deep, a haunted mountain, a battle on the fields of the Pelennor, and fought before the gates of Mordor. How much harder can pregnancy possibly be?

To be continued...

A/N: Because I want it to be, elven pregnancy in this story is going to last 9 months, just like a mortal's. I'm not sure how many months a pregnant person has morning sickness in the real world, but this isn't the real world so it'll probably last for a while. But Legolas' weight gain is possible: when my sister was pregnant she only gained about 10 pounds because she actively exercised both before and during those months. Until the last 2 months or so, no one could even tell it unless she wore something that was body-hugging.