"Get out of the way!"

Standing guard at the entrance to the private royal chambers in the citadel, Beren started at the sound of the king's panicked voice. The corresponding frantic footsteps only served to confirm his fear that something terrible had happened. "Sire!" he cried, hurrying through the doorway to find Aragorn as soon as possible. True, a guard was never supposed to leave his post unless so ordered by a commander or the king himself, but Beren knew now that the danger wasn't going to come from the outside – it was already within.

It was so dark in the corridor that he could barely make out Aragorn's movements at all. "What is wrong?" persisted Beren as he tried vainly to find the king's exact location. Why was the king of Gondor groping around in the darkness like this? It seemed unlikely that he wouldn't have been able to locate a lamp or a candle.

"You're standing where I need to walk, that's what's wrong," shot back Aragorn, appearing from out of the darkness.

Beren jumped to one side immediately and Aragorn brushed past, taking no care to not bump into the loyal guard nor offering an apology when he did so. The actions of the normally courteous ruler confused the guard even more and he almost asked what had brought on this strange mood. The question, however, stuck in his throat when he saw the reason: the king's hands were already full. Prince Legolas, wrapped haphazardly in his luxurious green dressing robe, was cradled in his husband's arms.

One of the first things that Beren noticed about the elf was that he was being incredibly quiet. That wasn't right; when the king and prince interacted it was either with loving and teasing banter or else stubborn arguments. Aragorn's behavior clearly indicated that there was nothing fun about what had driven them out of their bedchamber that night. Yet Prince Legolas, a proud and willful creature, would never consent to being carried around like that otherwise; the guard had no doubt that if Legolas had two broken legs he'd still elect to crawl to the Houses before admitting to himself that he needed help. In this instance, however, it appeared that the time for resisting assistance had come and gone; the only responses that the prince was giving were the expressions of confusion, fear, and occasional pain that distorted his exquisite features as Aragorn charged ahead.

"What happened?" asked Beren as he quickly fell in step beside Aragorn. "Was there another attack? I don't know how the guards let this happen, but I can assure you that I ordered all of my men to inspect every corner of the citadel twice and then once more before you retired! What has some coward done now: more poison, or did someone opt for a direct assault this time?"

"No, no," dismissed Aragorn distractedly while he maneuvered his way through the corridors. Thank the Valar that he knew the citadel well, for stopping to get a light just wasn't an option; memory served him well enough to let him focus on balancing the added weight in his arms. He was determined not to cause further harm to Legolas. "I can't explain how this came about, but I don't really care right now either. Legolas has to get to the Houses of Healing at once – then we can figure out what's happened."

Legolas let out a pained gasp as his body tensed and constricted. "It hurts," he moaned. "And I can still feel it – I can still feel myself bleeding. It won't stop, Aragorn; the bleeding just won't stop no matter how much I try to make it."

"It will, my love," Aragorn assured him, trying to sound confident without being grim. "We're on our way to the Houses right now; you'll get settled in that room you've come to hate so much and then the healers will find a way to stop the bleeding."

"Elladan and Elrohir aren't here." The promise of the healers' work was only of little comfort to Legolas because of that one little fact. "The healers and the healing women are skilled in their craft, but I need your brothers for this. Those at the Houses, they don't have the resources to understand elven male pregnancies like the twins do."

"We don't know if this has anything to do with your pregnancy," replied Aragorn, though even he didn't believe his own words. "Is the baby telling you anything?"

"I can't tell," said Legolas heartbrokenly. "I can't sense anything now but blood, confusion, and alarm. Ai Elbereth, please don't let me lose my baby!"

Aragorn mentally cursed at his brothers. A fine service they were doing for them by continually being absent when Legolas really needed them! Rationally he knew that he couldn't fault them for being away when the elf had been poisoned; after all, no one save the perpetrator herself knew that it would happen. Nor could he blame them for not reappearing instantaneously the moment he sent out the messenger – the road to Rivendell was long and nothing save being carried by eagles would have made everyone reach their destinations at a speed that would satisfy Aragorn at this time. Still, it made Aragorn feel more focused and in control when he had something tangible to blame; now he just had to take that feelings and use them to concentrate on being strong for Legolas.

"You will not lose this child as long as I have something to do about it," he reassured Legolas as he carefully began to descend a shadowy staircase. Beren was still next to them, readying himself to catch the prince should Aragorn's feet stumble or arms give out. "I learned the art of healing from my father, just as they did. Even if the don't manage to get their lazy butts back here in time, I swear to you that someone with experience in healing elves will attend to you – even if that person has to be me."

"Aragorn, I –" Legolas gritted his teeth and winced. Shifting in his husband's arms as he did just now had made him feel the open wound between his legs all the more keenly. He had no doubt in his mind that this was the birth canal that had been anxiously awaited and thoroughly searched for in a series of demeaning examinations. It caused him no pain, unlike the sharp twinges that came every now and again ('Contractions,' he realized); unpleasant and uncomfortable better suit what he was feeling in terms of it.

What scared him beyond comprehension was the presence of blood. He wasn't ignorant to the goings-on of pregnancy, and through both life lessons and what he'd been reading since he'd found out that he was pregnant he learned that such bleeding was oftentimes a sign that the baby was lost. The very idea was unbearable to him – how was he supposed to live through the loss of his child? Legolas thought of Thranduil then and understood better than ever what his own choices concerning mortality had done and was going to do to the older elf. "I want my father," he told Aragorn.

'I want mine too,' Aragorn thought and almost answered, but managed to hold his tongue. There was a time and place for him to long to hear the comforting voice of Elrond while feeling the elf lord's arms wrap around him and this wasn't it. Instead he threw an annoyed glance Beren's way. "Did you not hear the prince?" he demanded, angrier than he should have been. He would just have to apologize later, when his wits and senses returned to him and he could claim to be sane again. "Fetch King Thranduil at once and tell him to meet us at the Houses of Healing!"

Beren hesitated, reaching tentatively toward the royal couple to steady Legolas as coming off of the stairs onto the landing jostled him. "I will send one of my most trustworthy men right away," he promised. "It will take but a second and then I can return to help –"

"I didn't tell you to do that!" Aragorn shouted furiously at him. "I don't need my guards ignoring my direct orders and wasting time while passing off their duties to one another! There is no guard I trust more than you – for now – and right now I need my most trusted guard to make sure that my husband can have his father with him when he needs him. I can get Legolas to where he needs to go – just do as I say!"

Swallowing hard, the guard nodded and dashed ahead to hold the door to the main entrance of the citadel open so that his king could pass through it without harming himself or the precious burden in his arms. Aragorn sucked in the cool night air as he passed through in order to bolster his already-charged nerves. The second that they cleared the stairs he was going to run as if Sauron himself was after them; and he wasn't going to stop until he reached the Houses. Legolas stirred uncomfortably against him and the Man felt warm moisture beginning to seep through his husband's leggings. It reminded him of the gravity of his task – the bleeding was not going to stop on its own.

"Find King Thranduil," Aragorn repeated to Beren curtly.

"He may still be outside of the city," added Legolas tightly. He'd never felt so out of control when it came to his body before. Of course, he'd felt helpless when he'd been poisoned but he'd also been unconscious during most of that period of uncertainty right after, when everyone was trying to find out why he collapsed, and once the cause had been discovered he'd been relatively sure that it wouldn't be happening again. If the cause of this was as he feared and he was indeed miscarrying then knowing what was happening wouldn't make it stop. Elbereth, this was even worse than the time that he'd thought that he was dying because it wasn't his life at stake. He could only compare it to watching Aragorn nearly getting squished by a gigantic troll outside of the Black Gates and even then he had the inadequate assurance that Aragorn had the knowledge and capacity to protect himself. The baby needed his body and strength to survive and now both appeared to be failing.

"He's gone all the way back to Ithilien?" gasped Beren. He didn't want to have to travel so far when the prince was in danger! As far as he was concerned, one step in the opposite direction would be an almost intolerable distance.

"No. Gimli –" Legolas let out a sharp cry as another sudden burst of pain struck him. "Gimli just – just took him be-beyond the city w-w-walls – for some fresh – air. He shouldn't – be too – too hard to find. Aragorn…"

Aragorn drew him closer as he felt the elf's hand grasp one of his. 'Please,' he silently begged Eru, though he wasn't particular about who answered his prayer just as long as it was answered. 'Please make the bleeding stop and take away his pain. I will gladly bear it myself if you ask it of me if only his suffering ends because of it.'

"Find King Thranduil," he stressed aloud yet again, "and Gimli while you're at it. Then contact the Lord Faramir and Lady Eowyn and tell them where to find us. Oh, and the hobbits as well."

"Yes, sire," responded Beren diligently. He turned to go but Aragorn's voice made him pause.

"Beren, make sure that the other guards know that they aren't to let any visitor that I haven't named just now into the Houses of Healing, and to let no one there to seek the help of the healers anywhere near Legolas' chamber," instructed Aragorn, his irritation mounding as he imagined all of the unwelcome people that might start crawling around the Houses even while everyone that the king wanted to be there – namely the twins – wouldn't be. "And if the lords Elladan and Elrohir happen to come strolling along, let them know that it might be nice if they could find the time to come to Legolas' room in the Houses!"

Beren nodded briskly, though slightly unnerved by the king's rage, and tore off so quickly that later when he remembered he would swear that his feet never had the chance to touch the ground. With those little but important details taken care of, Aragorn started to run again as well. "Hold on, Legolas," he urged, forcing his mind to think about and react to what might be before him on the path to their destination so that he didn't make a bad situation worse by crashing into something or someone.

Legolas only responded with a groan as he tried unsuccessfully to speak to the baby through the haze that stood between them. "I'll see to it that this is all over soon," Aragorn murmured the promise. "Just stay with me – you and our son."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Minas Tirith had attained such a high standing in Pippin's mind and heart that it stood only behind the Shire in terms of places that he'd gladly lay his life down to defend. It was the place where he'd spent some invaluable time alone with Gandalf; where two of the greatest Men he'd ever known – Boromir and Faramir – had come from; and where the greatest one of them all – Strider – sat as the king that he was sworn to serve. Yet there were unpleasant and horrible memories there as well, ones that Pippin feared to confront once and for all. Why he'd thought that it would be any easier now was beyond him.

"I don't know," said the youngest hobbit doubtfully as he faltered just before he led Merry and Sam out from under the archway. "This doesn't seem to be a very good idea anymore."

"This was your idea, Pip," Merry reminded him, though he wasn't entirely unhappy that his cousin was backing down. It was brave and foolish and while Merry appreciated the need for both of them to deal with their pasts, he was glad that now he wasn't going to be expected to do just that in the morning.

"That doesn't mean that it was a good idea," protested Pippin. "Since when do I have one of those?"

"Lots of times lately, and this one's no exception," Sam both reassured and admonished at the same time. "Now Mr. Legolas and Strider faced down some rather unpleasant memories of their own from the recent past at the trial today; and I think it was very brave of you to decide that it was time for the two of you to do the same. And, Mr. Pippin, since you were the one who first got all inspired and such – and since yours is the closer one anyway – you've got to go first."

Turning his head ever so slowly, Pippin stared fearfully out at the open area before them. Suddenly the stone that stood so close and the towers that loomed overhead seemed menacing, as if the past was about to come bearing down on him once again. "Just talk to us about it," urged Sam in a tone that he'd honed well during his time as Elanor's father. "The only way to let it go for good is to get it out of your system once and for all."

Pippin nodded valiantly and after a second or two more of delaying he stepped out from the protection of the archway. The other two hobbits followed closely at his heels to support him on the rest of his journey. "I don't think I can ever forget it," he recalled aloud, remembering the panic and fear of the day – and the moment – in question. "The city was under siege and Denethor had lost his mind and decided to burn himself and Faramir alive. After he tossed me out I managed to find old Gandalf in all of that commotion. We were riding, riding up to stop him, and came through that archway" – he gestured back toward it awkwardly –"and – and then the –"

"Go on, Pippin," encouraged Merry as the hideous screams of the nazgul echoed through his time into his mind. He resisted the urge to clamp his hands over his ears; that wouldn't keep them out and it wouldn't do much to help Pippin relax.

"Why, after all of these years?"

"Because when we get back to the Shire you want to start courtin' Diamond Cleeve in earnest," said Sam knowingly. "Just like Mr. Merry wants to do the same with Estella Bolger. But before that can happen, you've got to find a way to lay all of these horrible memories to rest; and before you can do that you've got to look them straight in the eye without blinking. Trust me on that."

Taking a deep breath, Pippin continued on with a renewed resolve. "We were riding and then the Witchking came flying down over there –"

"Master hobbits!" Beren's hurried call interrupted the difficult narrative. The guard couldn't believe his good fortune! Stumbling across the hobbits like this would not only save him the time that it would have taken to track them down later; but also offered the opportunity of finding a way to return to his duty of protecting the king and prince almost immediately. "I cannot begin to describe how happy I am to have found you!"

"You were lookin'?" asked Sam, surprised. What would anyone want with them at that hour?

Beren nodded his head a bit breathlessly. "Yes," he confirmed. "And not just for you. There is something terribly wrong with Prince Legolas and he wants his father. King Elessar sent me to find him, along with Lord Gimli, you three, and Lord Faramir and Lady Eowyn. You are to meet them at the Houses of Healing."

"Oh no," gasped Pippin. He had known that anything worth finding someone so late would be serious, or at least complicated, but this was truly bad. "Can you tell us what's wrong with him?"

"I'm not sure if I'm the one to tell you this," Beren wavered, but their frightened eyes and concerned expressions pushed him to go on. "The king and the prince were too distracted to give many details, but the prince said that he was bleeding and he fears – he fears that he is miscarrying. It has to be something serious, as he wasn't resisting while the king carried him to the Houses."

"No, that isn't a good sign," noted Merry in a worried tone. "This is terrible! Poor Legolas, and poor Strider too! Do you think that someone's trying to kill Legolas or the baby again, or both?"

"I don't know," Beren informed him honestly, feeling the need to return to his duty even more acutely. "All I am certain of at this point are my orders: I am to find King Thranduil and Lord Gimli outside of the city walls; Lord Faramir and Lady Eowyn at their house in Minas Tirith; you hobbits, who thankfully were very easy to locate; and gather the guards under my command to tell them that only you seven are allowed to visit the Houses while Prince Legolas is there – the king is concerned about unwanted visitors. I must do all of that before I can resume my duty of protecting the prince."

Sam shook his head. "No, that won't do at all," he declared determinedly. "Protecting Legolas is the most important thing you could be doing, 'specially since no one knows what brought all of this on. You just go and find your guards and then get back to what you're supposed to be doing at once. We'll see to it that everyone who needs the word gets it."

Beren didn't need to be told twice. With a quick but grateful "Thank you" and a quiet vow that he'd make it up to them later for his albeit harmless manipulation, he ran off, leaving Sam in command of the situation. "All right then," said the simple gardener hobbit who was really anything but simple. "Mr. Merry, you go find Captain Faramir and the lady. Sounds like there's gong to be some political mumbo-jumbo to deal with and Strider's not going to be in the mood for it. He's going to need his steward and his steward's going to need his wife. Mr. Pippin, since you're the quickest of the lot of us I think you should be the one to run down to Gimli and the king."

"And what are you going to be doing while we're running about?" demanded Merry with an irritated edge and Pippin nodded in agreement. They didn't want to be running errands right now – they wanted to be with their friends, waiting for word on how Legolas was faring!

"Telling Rose and the kids why I won't be back for awhile," replied Sam grimly. "From what it sounds like, Mr. Legolas is going to be at the Houses for awhile – and so are we."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The night had grown dark a little while beforehand but Thranduil had refused to retire inside the walls. Though he was tired and getting a little cold, Gimli had decided to keep him company no matter how much he was beginning to doubt that the elf could really see anything without the sunlight. "Are you sure?" Gimli asked yet again, for it wasn't in a dwarf's nature to suffer doubt in silence. "How can even elf eyes see anything right now? For all you know they could have stopped for the night."

"No, Gimli," responded Thranduil, his eyes not leaving the movement he was watching diligently in the distance. "You would be surprised what I can perceive when the need is great and I tell you that Elladan and Elrohir and riding forth even as we speak! They are too close now for it to make sense for them to halt and make camp, especially since they must still be operating under the assumption that Legolas is 'mysteriously ill' or whatever that snail of a messenger told them. They will be here shortly."

"Good," broke in an unexpected but not unwelcome voice coming from behind them. Thranduil and Gimli spun around to look at Pippin, whose cheeks were flushed red and was panting from his recent run. "Are they coming in a hurry, then?"

"Hello, young hobbit," greeted Gimli warmly but with an underlying ill-at-ease tone. "What brings you out so late at night?"

"Legolas," replied Pippin in a worried voice that succeeded in capturing both of their attentions immediately. "There's something wrong with Legolas; something that has Strider carrying him off to the healers right quick. According to the guard we spoke to Legolas said that he's bleeding –"

"But this guard didn't see the wound?" interrupted Gimli, trying to sort out the sudden onset of uncertainty and concern. "What kind of ninny-hammer guard is he to not see that?"

One terrible word flashed into Thranduil's mind; he didn't want to say it aloud, but he had to know. "The guard did not see it because it is not that kind of a wound," he said, dreadfully staring down at the hobbit. "Legolas fears that he is having a miscarriage, does he not?"

A broken cry escaped Thranduil's lips when Pippin silently confirmed his worst fears. Oh, after all that they had endured, to lose the child now would be devastating to everyone – not least of all to his Little Greenleaf. "I have to go to him," he said out loud but to himself.

"That's the idea," said Pippin sincerely, "because he's been asking for you."

"Yes, yes, of course," Thranduil responded, his most intense parental instincts taking over. "I will go there right away."

"I'd best come too," added Gimli hastily. "But what about the twins?"

Thranduil's heart froze. What he'd been so focused on for a good part of the evening had slipped his mind so easily when he learned that his son and grandson were in danger. Elladan and Elrohir couldn't be forgotten, however; they would have to be directed to the Houses of Healing right away if they were going to be of any help to Legolas. Searching about helplessly, his eyes finally landed on Pippin. "May I ask of you the most important favor that I have ever asked of anyone?" he requested apologetically.

"Do you want me to stay here in the dark to wait for Strider's brothers." It was more of statement than a question.

The king pointed out to the moving shapes that only his elven eyes could see. "They will be coming from that direction in a half hour at the most," he said, sounding more convinced than he actually felt. If they did stop to make camp for the night he was going to kill them. "Let them know wall that is going on the second you see them. Waste no time or words, master hobbit – I fear that the lives of my son and grandson rest on how quickly they can reach Legolas' side."

To be continued…

A/N: Sorry, no birth yet (next chapter…maybe…if I feel like it) :)