As it had been since the day that the king imposed his figurative banishment, the meeting of the advisors' council couldn't conclude soon enough for Lord Cirion's pride. Each one was more humiliating as the last now that he'd been cast down and all of his real power stripped away. King Elessar, who never held any real trust in the words of any advisor save Faramir – if the steward even counted as one– even though he always did listen, continued to follow through on his punishment down to the last detail. Everyone now refused to acknowledge Cirion's existence; the king even went so far as the restrain himself from even sending a glare in his direction when the lord spoke loudly, insulted anyone, or interrupted others. The meetings carried on around him as he were nothing more than a stone statue that memorialized a person and time that had passed instead of a high-ranking and well respected lord. The entire situation was maddening!

The most powerful blow to Cirion's pride and sense of dignity, however, came not during a meeting but rather after the one that took place the previous week. Desperate to regain the king's favor – well, not favor, for he never had that; attention was a more fitting word – the once mighty lord had approached Prince Legolas to humble himself before him. The elf had filled out a bit since the disastrous meeting that had led to all of his current difficulties and didn't seem to desire to move as quickly as he used to. Instead he had lingered in his seat, his hands resting on his stomach and a smile on his face so content that it mocked Cirion in his misery. The lord rushed forward to his side and, seizing his arm, begged – begged – for his assistance, for him to speak to King Elessar on his behalf and restore his position to what it should be. Legolas had looked at him and it pained Cirion to behold his beauty, his swollen stomach that told that he was with child, and his royal title while his own daughter had been denied the same. Then the elf prince did what Cirion deemed unforgivable: he refused.

'It is not my place to question the king's ruling once it has been carried out, Lord Cirion; nor is it my desire to presume to do so,' were his exact words.

Furious at being dismissed by this creature that shouldn't have such authority over him in the first place, Cirion tightened his grip on his arm enough to leave bruises and sting as much as his pride at that moment. Legolas never flinched or showed any sign of discomfort or fear, maintaining a cool expression even as the lord got into his face and hissed that it was disgusting how he walked around showing off his pregnant belly instead of going into confinement.

'Gondor's nobility will not long tolerate your strange elvish ways,' he fumed into that pointed ear.

King Elessar had witnessed the whole affair andforced himself to keep frominterfering while Cirion just spoke to his husband. Once his body language and facial expression revealed the extent of his fury he'd rushed to Legolas' side and pulled the lord away. The strain he had felt in resisting the urge to strike Cirion dead was evident but the king knew how to conduct himself in front of an audience and only warned that he'd rot away in some hideous dungeon if he ever presumed even to cast a scowl in the prince's direction again. From the looks in the other advisors' eyes as he then cast his gaze around the room in search of an ally, Cirion had known that he had lost whatever remained of his supporters.

That splintering of the old internal alliances was something that he was determined to confront the present day away from the king's watchful and suspicious eyes. As soon as the meeting adjourned he hurried from the room and searched out a place to hide himself until the proper moment. Finding an appropriately darkened part of the corridor that was still in sight of the meeting hall and yet out of earshot, he discreetly situated himself there and watched as they all slowly filtered out.

Cirion was most pleased when one of the very people he wished to speak to emerged a few minutes later and unknowingly headed in his direction. "Eärnil," he whispered loud enough to get the other advisor's attention. "I ask for an audience."

Eärnil refused to heed his voice and continued on his way. "Eärnil, halt," said Cirion at his normal volume as he came out of the shadows to block his path. Eärnil attempted to maneuver around him but he put his arms out to prevent that from happening. "Will you not listen to the urgent words of an old ally? We used to speak often about matters of a political nature that concerned our fair realm."

"I have no desire to speak with you in such a way again," replied Eärnil frostily. "I will not converse with you about anything again, as a matter of fact, if I am allowed to make that choice."

Cirion's blood boiled. "Those are not your words," he spat out. "Do you now blindly follow the whims of an elf instead of being true to your own countryman, you traitor?"

"Those words are my own and they express my own decisions," responded Eärnil fiercely. Accusations such as traitor were not usually tossed around so lightly and never tolerated by the accused if false. "I am loyal to the King Elessar and will not give him a reason to doubt that. He would rightly strip me of all of my power and influence if I began consorting with you. He has made it clear that he will not endure a wormtongue in his court."

"You admit, then, that the king is trying to create divisions amongst the ranks of the advisors," said Cirion forcefully, desperately. "Those are the actions of a puppet or a tyrant. Either he seeks to wield total control over Gondor or else his elvish husband is using him for the same ends! We must now stand together if we wish to maintain any sort of power at all. Tell me that you are not blind enough not to see that."

"King Elessar was right in his decision to disempower your voice," breathed Eärnil, sounding completely horrified. "Every phrase you've uttered and action you've taken since Prince Legolas announced his pregnancy has been more and more insane! You dare call me a traitor? Treason spews from your mouth even now, and comes so close on the heels of your attack on the very person that is bearing the heir to the throne. For your own sake, Cirion, let go of the Gondor that was and this imagined future that will never be and accept the king and prince as they rightfully are."

This betrayal could only be a jest! "I could accept King Elessar if he conducted the court in a manner befitting a king," Cirion growled, "but there is nothing 'rightful' about Prince Legolas' position. His presence makes a mockery of our meetings. We cannot be expected to carry on as we always have been when he disrupts the process and tries to force his own views and beliefs into our laws."

"That is not true and you're a fool if you believe otherwise," shot back Eärnil. "He says nothing unless either he is asked or else we are discussing the child. I have grown quite grateful for his attendance actually, if you want my opinion –"

"I do not," muttered Cirion irritably.

"Having him there is an asset to the advisors," Eärnil continued, sending a dark look in his direction. "King Elessar is a fair ruler and Gondor is fortunate to have him on the throne, but he sees little use for our council. It's almost as if he thinks of court politics as nothing more than a child's game, always searching out hidden meanings in what we say and never completely trusting our words. Prince Legolas grew up in a proper court setting and because of that he understands what part we play in Gondor's political stability. I believe he's even been encouraging the king to embrace that; perhaps the council would have been dissolved a long time ago without his influence. He could be a powerful ally for us."

Cirion wasn't ready to concede the debate yet. "He is an elf who is set on forcing his peoples' ways on this realm of Men," he insisted scornfully.

"What does that even mean?" Eärnil demanded. "You can name no law that has been added, altered, or overturned because of his influence; there are none. Are you objecting to the gardens that he and the other elves have planted, to the green trees that stand in place of the dead ones, and the restoration of a living White Tree? Do you not like the fact that it was due in part to his friendship with the Lord Gimli that the walls and gates of Minas Tirith are being repaired by skilled dwarves? If beauty, strength, and life are the results of this perceived interference, I can safely speak for the rest of the people when I say that I hope to see more of it."

"He had no business marrying Gondor's king just because he bewitched and seduced him when he was still a young Man!" Cirion burst out, venting his deepest resentment. "My daughter –"

"My daughter, my daughter, my daughter!" mocked Eärnil, unable to stop himself from covering his own ears and pulling his hair in frustration. "Everyone is sick of hearing about how your daughter should be the queen. Ever since she was a little girl you have pushed for her to enter into the most advantageous marriage possible and she has told anyone who would listen that she was going to be the wife of whoever ruled our kingdom. I too have an unmarried daughter and while I cannot deny that I was disappointed that she could not marry King Elessar, I am still able to see that he chose his spouse wisely. Your daughter had no more claim to the position of queen than any other noble – none at all. Prince Legolas did not rob her of anything! Your foolish ambitions have failed, Cirion. I implore you to cease this madness before it utterly ruins you."

With one last censoring look, Eärnil stalked around Cirion and vanished down the corridor. Cirion, unable or unwilling to let go of what had driven him for so long, stewed over the betrayal he believed he'd just received from someone who used to be trustworthy. Prince Legolas was destroying so much of what he held the right too, he fumed silently, and that needed to be rectified soon before the birth of the baby further complicated matters.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"It doesn't matter if this child prefers his Uncle Peregrin over his Uncle Meriadoc or if it's the other way around," declared Gimli triumphantly as he held his hand on the bulge of Legolas' stomach. "It's plain to me that he prefers his Uncle Gimli over the lot of them!"

"Are you not hungry then, Gimli?" asked Legolas mischievously, making a show of moving his hand closer and closer to the dwarf's food-laden plate. He probably shouldn't be teasing him during mealtime, when he had the responsibility of nourishing his unborn baby, but he couldn't help himself. Having Gimli show up unexpectedly with his father for lunch was one of the happiest surprises he'd had in weeks. "It would be a shame to let all of that go to waste. Shall I call for the dogs? They like people food."

Gimli snapped his head up, ready to defend his lunch from whatever would prevent it from ending up in his belly when a sudden movement made him freeze. "He kicked again!" he announced, a delighted grin spreading from ear-to-ear. "By Aule, laddie; he's going to be as strong as a mountain dwarf and that is the highest praise he could receive from one of that race."

"If you're quite done, master dwarf," Thranduil spoke up with mock disapproval, "I must ask you to allow my son to eat. Honestly, why did I miss you when I know you are such a distraction?"

Legolas quirked an eyebrow. "You missed him, Ada?" he teased.

The tips of Thranduil's ears turned slightly red to Legolas' surprise and amusement. "There is nothing wrong with admitting that."

"Stop tormenting your father," Gimli piped in. "Especially since your mouth could be busy doing more important things, like eating."

Legolas rolled his eyes but complied, spreading some honey on a piece of bread and popping it into his mouth. "What did I ever do to deserve you two?" he bantered. Suddenly his face scrunched in disgust and it took all of his court training not to spit the bread out. "Or that! Ai Elbereth, that was revolting! Since when had bread and honey had such a sickeningly sweet taste?"

"I've never liked that honey stuff to be sure," said Gimli, concern in his voice as he watched him take large gulps of water, "but you've always liked it in the past."

"It's the pregnancy," said Thranduil knowingly. "Your mother had a similar experience when she was carrying you; her taste in food was always altering. Try some of the fruit instead."

The prince obediently but cautiously put a grape in his mouth and was relieved that he found it to be delicious. "I'm sorry that Aragorn couldn't be here," he said, more to Gimli than to his father. Thranduil, he was certain, had probably had more than his fill of the Man's company. "He needed to discuss some business with Faramir."

"I can excuse his absence for that," stated Gimli simply. "There is much that he must attend to with the impending birth and the delegations."

"Still, I wish that he didn't have to conduct politics like this," Legolas sighed. He looked up and forced a smile when he saw the worried gazes of his father and Gimli. "But it's not as bad as it has been in the past. Aragorn is starting to utilize the advisors' council more efficiently. The meeting today was very productive."

Thranduil's eyes clouded over. "Was that Cirion in attendance?" he demanded darkly.

"Yes," replied Legolas carefully. "He's always present but he didn't even look at me today."

"I should hope not," was his father's grim response. "It is damnable that he is even walking around as a free Man after attacking you last week."

That got Gimli's attention. "Someone hurt you?" he growled protectively. "Why wasn't I informed?"

"No one hurt me," bristled Legolas, somewhat offended at the unintentional implication that he couldn't defend himself. "Lord Cirion asked me to speak with Aragorn on his behalf and when I refused he squeezed my arm. It was only a little uncomfortable! It will take a lot more than that to intimidate and frighten me. Stop making it should like it took every one of the citadel guards to keep him from slaying me, Ada."

"I do not like that Man!" groused Thranduil as he turned to Gimli. "Do you know, my friend, that the very same noble accused Legolas of being unfaithful to Aragorn? He had the audacity to stand before the council and say that there was an excellent chance that the baby wasn't sired by him because no Man could satisfy an elf's lust."

Gimli's face contorted with outrage and he grabbed for his axe. "That is inexcusable!"

"It was not excused," interjected Legolas firmly. "Aragorn imposed a fitting punishment; now Lord Cirion is little more than a figurative exile with no real power."

"He should be a literal exile!" Gimli fumed. "Why wasn't he banished on the spot."

"Because I asked Aragorn not to," explained Legolas with a weary sigh. There was a time and place for everything and he didn't want to spend what was supposed to be an enjoyable lunch discussing these matters. "Not only had the Man just challenged me to prove my baby's legitimacy, but he was also one of Lord Denethor's most loyal political allies. If he'd been banished, he and his friends would have stirred up rebellion. They could have said that Aragorn was nothing but a cuckold that couldn't even inspire fidelity in his own spouse and that I was using him as a puppet to be the real power behind the throne. Or they could have spread rumors that their king was a tyrant, that he was trying to wipe away all remnants of the previous government so he could mold the realm into his own vision despite what everyone else wanted. If Cirion is allowed to maintain his position, he gets no such leverage and Aragorn can show the other advisors that he is both merciful and exacting at the same time."

"You were paying attention all those years in Mirkwood's court," noted Thranduil approvingly. "Is thatwhat you weredoing when you listened to all of those troubadours? Strange; I always imagined that you were thinking quite - sarcastic - thoughts."

Ah, yes; the troubadours that flocked to Mirkwood with songs and poems about him. Legolas grimaced as he remembered rumors of his beauty spread around the elven world, making it so that he was coined the "Sun Star" and forced to listen to many flowery verses instead of spending his time at the archery field and generally enjoying life. "Neither assumption is totally without merit," he confessed. "I did much of both."

"Was that after you stopped trying to escape from that particular duty?" asked Gimli. "Your son told me a lot of tales during the Quest of the Ring, Thranduil; perhaps my favorite was the one when he was still a lad andsmashed berries in his hair so that it wouldn't be so 'sunny' anymore."

Thranduil groaned. "That was a nightmare to get out! An elf with red hair – he looked like," he paused, staring wide-eyed at the dwarf. "He looked a little like you."

Legolas had to laugh, happy that they were finally back to bantering about pleasant things. "That was only –" His voice broke off suddenly as a sharp pain came to his abdomen.

"Little Greenleaf?" asked Thranduil in alarm.

"Laddie?" asked Gimli at the same time, noting the white-knuckled grip he had on the edge of the table.

"It – it hurts," Legolas gasped out. He took several deep, ragged breathed but the pain only increased.

"What hurts?" cried Gimli, rising to his feet. "Are you in labor?"

Legolas let go of the table and wrapped his arms around his stomach. It wasn't labor, he knew. The baby seemed – seemed – Oh, dear Eru. He rolled off of the bench, landing hard on his knees on the stone floor before vomiting. "My baby," he choked out. "My baby's in trouble."

"Ion nin!" screamed Thranduil, throwing himself down beside him as Legolas' body began to convulse.

Something was harming his son. Legolas cared nothing about what the pain was doing to him; he would endure even the tortures of Barad-dur if it meant saving his child, but at the moment his pain could also be the baby's pain and that scared him. Everything else around him sounded so far away, but he could still hear Gimli yelling for help and his ada's gentle whispers and soothing touch. Where was Aragorn? His agonized mind couldn't remember. As he fell into unconscious darkness, Legolas wished that his husband could be there to hold him.

To be continued…

A/N: For those of you who haven't read the prequel to this story, What is Meant to Be, or those who don't remember, the story above about a young Legolas smashing berries into his hair in an attempt to discourage the troubadours is mentioned in chapter 15 of that story, near the end.

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