Yet another 4 AM disclaimer. Don't own 'em. Don't wanna own 'em. Make diddly-squat writing this. Have no money anyways, don't sue.
Regarding the rating. I had actually been thinking about downgrading the rating on this work for several week. I'd originally assigned an NC-17 for the concept of nonconsensual relations, even if they weren't described except in the vaguest of terms. After reading NC-17 for a few months, I came to the realization that I was writing the equivalent of scripts for Sesame Street compared to most of that stuff. So I can rationalize and say that changing the rating doesn't change that much here.
I'm certainly not happy about FF.Net's decision to get rid of all the NC-17 stuff, but I can see their position in our litigious society. I suppose I wouldn't want to be stuck holding a big flaming bag of what could be considered kiddie porn in some states either. …..
But anyways…. Here it is…. I bet you'll hate me when it's done, but the story STILL isn't over… heh. I am evil.
It was an odd feeling to be so tired all the time, he thought. Legolas rolled onto his left side and closed his eyes against the dull morning light.
The new position was only moderately more comfortable than the one on his right side and he knew from experience that the newfound comfort would be short-lived.
No position truly felt good anymore. He could no longer lie on his back without feeling pinned. To lie on his stomach would have been a miracle. Even lying on one side was confining in its own way. Standing made one area of his back hurt. Sitting made another. He had actually found one position --half sitting, half propped against the wall near the window-- that had actually been endurable for a few minutes until the cold had seeped into his bones and driven him back to the fire. Sadly, when he'd tried the position again the next day, it had lost its effectiveness and was as uncomfortable as everything else.
He sighed and relaxed into the mattress. At least it was warm under the heavy blankets and quilts.
Almost as if protesting the slight measure of comfort found in the present position, the child began to move and turn vigorously.
It seemed lately as though the child retaliated for having less room to move with hard kicks and pokes in increasingly sensitive areas. At times he could swear that the young one took a sadistic joy in making him leap up and waddle for the garderobe as quickly as his legs could carry him.
Almost as if his thoughts had been read, a strong thump on his bladder made his eyes fly open. With a feeling of real urgency, he considered his options. He could send Disa for a heavy robe and slippers and go to the garderobe down the hall. It was a cold, cold room now, and he did not like the thought of leaving his warm nest of blankets and putting his skin on the cold seat there. Or he could make use of the chamber pot next to the bed. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of trying to keep his balance while squatting down over the pot. His body had only grown more ungainly in the past weeks, plus the fastidious part of him did not like the thought of having a pot of his own waste next to the bed. He had had enough of chamber pots when he had been locked in for months and wanted nothing more to do with them. Perhaps he could simply close his eyes and ignore the feeling for a little longer. He was warm and moderately comfortable. He could feel his eyelids sag as he relaxed back into the mattress.
A second thump removed that plan of action as his eyes flew open, even wider than before. He would have to relieve himself and soon.
For a moment he reflected on his lost maleness and mourned the loss of the ability to simply left fly when the urge hit. The vision of himself straddling the bedroom window and voiding his bladder down below -- not caring if there were passersby or not -- was rather humorous in his eyes and made him snigger under his breath until the child prodded the overfull bladder again.
With a small sound of regret, Legolas turned his mind back to the two options. Garderobe: Long, cold walk, slight discomfort, cold seat, no smell in the room. Chamber pot: Cold for a moment, very real possibility of falling over and fouling oneself, smell. The chamber pot was winning because he could simply crawl back under the covers again. But it was morning. He should rise. He'd promised Arod a good brushing today.
The horse had complained yesterday that no one would currycomb him the way his Elf did. He'd taken notice of a rather promising chestnut filly two stalls down that he knew had also taken notice of him. Therefore his coat should be at its most glossy and smooth. He mourned their lack of rides, but still enjoyed going to the exercise yard so that he could show his paces to the young lady. It seemed he lifted his hooves and measured his gaits so much more precisely when he knew she was watching.
True love, even of the equine version, was the last thing Legolas wanted to hear about.
With a sigh, Legolas reached over and poked Disa in the shoulder. The girl had slept with him every night for the past three weeks. He'd been able to rest with her there, strangely enough. Perhaps the feeling of a female next to him made some part of his mind think that he was male again. Or perhaps it was the sound of her deep and steady breathing as she dreamed that helped lull him into an uneasy rest.
She twitched and mumbled in her sleep, and then rolled over so that her back was to him. He bit his lip as the urge to urinate became an overwhelming need. He poked her again, hard enough to rock her small frame. She mumbled and then rolled over to look at him, eyes still heavy with sleep. "Again?" she asked in a long-suffering voice.
He simply nodded, eyes wide and showing his near pain.
The girl sighed and then rolled out of bed with a grace that Legolas envied. She offered her hand to help him from the bed and he grasped it gratefully. He'd been prideful the first times she'd offered but had learned to bow his head and accept the aid. He might not have ever gotten out of bed otherwise. She then left to go fetch a warm robe and slippers.
He paused before the mirror and saw the woman there. The stomach that bulged out before her dwarfed the rest of her body. Limbs that were once slender and graceful were swollen and stiff. Her face was worn and her eyes tired.
He touched her hand in the mirror and smiled at her, and her face lit up with a smile of its own, making her beautiful despite her adversity. "I would kill the one who did this to you with my bare hands, were I you." They laughed together at his poor joke. They both knew he would use steel.
His eyes traveled down to her stomach and rested there for a long moment. He then looked down at himself and rested a hand on the swell he found there. He looked up in the mirror again and found the woman watching him with an almost tender look on her face. He turned his eyes down again. She knew his heart even better than he did, it seemed. "You know I cannot allow myself to feel for the little one. It must stay and I must leave."
He looked up to see her frown. He then closed his eyes and shook his head as pain welled up in his chest. "I know. The child deserves better than that. It deserves to be loved and cherished like the treasure it is, and in any other circumstance I would welcome a child with open arms and loving heart." He looked back to her again and saw tears glistening in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't do what you want. I can't let myself feel for it. There is too much pain, too much resentment, too much anger. I can't."
Tears rolled down the woman's pale cheeks as he watched. "I'm sorry." He mouthed the words, his voice failing him as he felt a lump rise in his throat.
There was a small sound next to him and he turned to see Disa standing there, robe across her arms. "Who are you talking to?" She looked from him to the mirror and back again.
He turned back to the woman and touched fingertips with her again, and then reached up to wipe the tears from her cheek but touched only cold glass. The woman radiated sadness and it was painful to look into her eyes. "No one." His voice was a tight whisper. "Just myself." He and the woman nodded to each other as he acknowledged that simple truth.
The girl frowned and then wrapped the robe around his shoulders. "I thought you had to go to the garderobe?"
The mention of it was enough to remind him how badly he had to go. "Yes." He looked one more time at the sad woman in the mirror and then turned to go as another thump on his bladder made him wince. He muttered as he waddled towards the door, "I wonder if I did the same to my mother, and if so why she let me live. I am not inclined to be merciful to this one when it finally comes, after the rough treatment I've received."
Disa laughed, the sound bright. "Estra says soon, Lady. The baby has already dropped and the child is eager to join us all in the bright world." She paused and then spoke almost solemnly. "You'll forget all the bad things once you hold your child in your arms. That is the way of the world."
Legolas could only roll his eyes. "Soon is not soon enough, Disa, and somehow I doubt I could forget even a fraction of what has happened here."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
The stable was loomed ahead and Legolas tried to walk faster to get to the warmth that it promised. A glance up showed that the clouds were slate gray, almost as if a sheet of metal had been drawn across the sky. The world seemed strangely quiet and still, as though it too was wondering what would come from such a menacing sky.
Disa and Clotild were talking as they walked behind him, voices loud in the silence surrounding them. A sudden wind picked up the edge of his cloak and penetrated the heavy layers of wool underneath as if he'd been wearing nothing. He suppressed a shiver as he waddled to the door and a waiting stable boy let them in with a tug on his forelock and a bow.
The stables were warm and smelled of horse. To Legolas' nose that was a good smell, a smell of comfort and familiarity. Disa wrinkled her face, not liking the strong odor. Clotild merely ignored it as she hurried to the far end of the stable and peeked out into the exercise yard.
She hissed at Disa and frantically waved the girl over to a gap in the door. Disa scampered over and they both stared out and whispered to each other. Legolas shook his head and allowed a smile to ghost his lips.
Outside Councilor Regin and his son Royd were exercising their horses. Their voices rang in the still air, deep and merry, unaware that they had admirers that hung on their every word or drank in the very sight of them.
Legolas walked behind them, and placed a hand on Clotild's shoulder. "Why don't you go out and watch them?"
Disa gasped. "Oh no, we couldn't do that! It would be most improper to be seen in the company of men without a chaperone."
There was a wicked twinkle in Clotild's green eyes. "We could chaperone each other, Disa. I know that you like to watch the son almost as much as I like to watch the father."
Lip curled, Disa asked, "The father? He's so... old."
Clotild smiled. "Yes, he's older, but he's a good man who appreciates a woman who can think on her own. I know he's been lonely since his wife died all those years ago. Who knows? Maybe he could appreciate an upstart made-noble wife better than the other men around here because of his own background."
The Elf nodded. "I think so. You two go. I won't be alone. Arod will be here to watch over me, and you'll be right outside the doors."
With a secret look shared between them the two grasped hands and slipped outside, excited giggles drifting back into the stable behind them.
A joyful whicker came from the end stall and Legolas walked to where Arod waited, hooves dancing in an anxious rhythm. The horse nosed his way through the layers of wool to find an apple hidden in a pocket. With a quiet laugh, Legolas fished it out and offered it to the horse who greedily lipped it up and then turned to present his side to his elf.
Legolas smiled. "Subtle hint there, old friend?" He reached for the currycomb that hung from the side of the stall. His fingers brushed the bristles, scratching the sensitive finger pads. He then froze as what felt like a band tightened painfully across his stomach. He couldn't move or breathe for a long moment. And then the pain stopped just as suddenly as it had come. He felt his shoulders sag as he gasped for air, filling his lungs.
Arod nickered and bumped against him, almost sending him sprawling. Legolas took a deep breath and then grasped the currycomb in almost numb fingers. He looped the leather strap across the back of his hand and began to work, long, hard strokes that made the horse's flank twitch in pleasure. After several minutes of brushing with no repeat of the pain, he began to relax. It was then that he felt the tightening again, this time stronger and harder.
He stood immobile, holding his breath against the pressure in his abdomen. Laughter rang out in the exercise yard and echoed in his head. All he had to do was call and Clotild and Disa would be there in a moment. But he had no breath in his lungs to talk, much less shout. And what would they do when they came? The pain abated. Legolas sagged against Arod's side, breathing in the warm scent of horse.
Arod shifted and then turned to look at the figure drawing breath in ragged pants against his side. He whickered a low, calming sound and tried to nose his elf.
Legolas looked up at the horse and weakly scratched an ear. Arod snorted, not willing to be placated, and tried to nose his elf again.
The Elf pushed back from the horse and leaned against the stall. He allowed himself to slide down the wall until he was sitting the clean straw that was piled there. He breathed deeply, the smell reminding him of summer, and looked up at the horse that regarded him with worried eyes. "It's alright, Arod. I've taken wounds that hurt worse than this. I can handle it. I just need to rest a moment." He reached up to scratch the outstretched chin as the horse moved to stand in front of him.
The horse whickered again, low and worried, refusing to be appeased by the scratches that came from familiar hands. He nuzzled the long hair, searching for a clue of what might be hurting his elf.
The straw was stiff and poked Legolas through the heavy layers of wool he wore. What normally would have been a minor irritant was now almost unendurable. He calmed himself with great lungfuls of air and spoke to the horse in a low voice. "I am a warrior. I will not let this break me. I can endure this, I can control this pain."
It was then that another wave of pain washed over him. He saw red briefly until he realized he had clamped his eyes shut so tightly they felt pressed into his skull. A small whimper escaped his lips before he pressed them shut. Arod was even more alarmed, this time whinnying and stepping carefully around him. When the pain left, it took all Legolas had to lay his head back against the wall and cluck comfortingly to horse. Arod snorted, refusing to be soothed by such obviously false sounds.
Rest. Rest would be good for a few minutes. Then he could get up and try to make his way back to his rooms. His eyes glazed and he dozed lightly while Arod stood guard. The sounds of laughter from outside grew louder as the girls walked back into the stables, and then stopped suddenly when they realized they could not see Legolas. Hurried footsteps made their way across the floor to where Arod stood, legs braced and teeth bared, waiting for them.
Sudden searing pain tore Legolas from his waking dreams, and a moan escaped his lips. Arod moved even closer, exercising extreme care not to step on his elf, and then turned to face the threat of the two women who had just come to the door of his stall.
"Lady!" Clotild's voice echoed through the low roof and was answered by a snort of challenge from the horse. The maid ignored the horse and ran forward to help Legolas to his feet when she was drawn up short by teeth snapping in her face.
The maid leaped back and to the side and Arod's head swiveled to follow her. Disa, seeing an opening, made to dive under the horse's neck but was knocked over when Arod thrust his body forward to block her. She rolled out of the way of heavy hooves that struck the floor where she had just landed. Legolas tried to speak, tried to tell Arod to leave them be, but there was no breath in his lungs to use for words.
Disa swore under her breath, words that her father would have beaten her senseless for knowing, much less using. Her fear of horses was well known by all, and this experience would make not make things any better. Luckily her fear was not the paralyzing type. She rolled over to the stall door and stood up, brushed straw from her hair and made a silent note to thank the stable boy for mucking out the stall before they arrived this morning.
Clotild stood in front of her and watched the horse turn back to his Elf and gently lip the golden hair. "Disa, go get help. He won't hurt her. He's protecting her." Clotild's voice was smooth and calm, pitched to not alarm the horse. "I'll keep trying while you get help."
The girl bristled for a moment at the order, but then realized that Clotild was right. The maid was not afraid of Arod and would not hesitate to throw herself into the fray again if needed. Picking up heavy skirts, Disa ran back into the exercise yard hoping to find Regin or Royd.
She glanced anxiously at the rapidly darkening sky as she ran across the yard towards the sound of male voices. Her lungs burned with the cold air and her breath steamed before her. She turned the corner and then suddenly collided with Aragorn. Her small body bounced back from the impact and she landed on her backside with a cry of pain. She pulled her skirts back down over her legs and looked up to meet his gaze.
He was dressed in riding leathers and a heavy cloak, and spurs gleamed on his heels. It must have been time for his morning ride when he had stopped to speak with Regin on his way to the stables. The three men turned in surprise to see the oh-so-prim and proper Disa decorating the cobbles with her rear. The king seemed to find this most amusing. His eyes crinkled in good humor as he smiled and offered his hand to help her up.
Disa met his eyes, her normal modesty forgotten in the urgency of the matter. She grabbed his hand and leaped to her feet. "Majesty! You must help! The Lady…" She pulled the gloved hand she had yet to release and began to run back towards the stables, trying to tow him with her.
To his credit, he didn't argue. He simply ran with her back to the stables, Regin and Royd following in their footsteps. Their tread was heavy and thumped in the still air in counterpoint with her harsh breaths and light gait.
They returned to find that Clotild had worked her way halfway across the stall. Arod still stood over the elf, breathing hard and shaking, but not attacking. Legolas spoke quietly in Elvish, the sweet voice almost like the ringing of bells. The horse seemed to be about to allow the maid to reach her goal. Then the rhythm of the voice changed, becoming more strained and choked, and then silent after a small gasp of pain.
Arod lunged forward at the maid; teeth clicked together a mere hairsbreadth from where Clotild's outstretched hand had been a moment before. Clotild threw herself backwards out of reach and had almost fallen, but had been caught by Regin.
"Legolas", Aragorn spoke, "Tell Arod to let us help you." After he spoke, he realized that was probably what the elf had been trying to do when he arrived. He shook his head in disgust and then actually looked at the elf on the far side of the straw.
The entire body was tensed, every muscle tight as if the elf were fighting an enemy within. The fair face was pale and drawn; the eyes were clenched shut and the rosebud mouth drawn into a grimace. He could tell that Legolas was also holding his breath, as if in too much pain to take in air.
Clotild spoke as he regarded the scene. "The pain is too great for her to speak. It will pass in a moment and we can try again. She tried to help before, but the pains came on too quickly for me to get to her."
The king stared at the horse as he considered the situation. The horse returned the royal gaze with a baleful one of his own. A small gasp broke the tension between them as Legolas began breathe heavily, sucking in air desperately.
The horse turned again and lipped the heavy wool overdress, searching for what ever might be causing such pain to his elf.
The king used this distraction to grab a nearby length of rope from the side of the stall and tie a slipknot into it. He knew that he had to move now, while the horse was distracted. He strode into the stall, his boots thumping against the floor. Arod raised his head with a grunt, but Aragorn was ready for him. The noose was held in such a way that the horse lifted his head into the opening which the king then pulled tight.
Arod screamed in rage. He had not been bound since he had been with Legolas and he found it galling. He started to rear, but realized that he would step on his elf if he did so. He instead planted his hooves and lowered his head, snorting.
Aragorn gestured and Regin and Royd joined him to haul Arod to the far side of the stall where a strong iron ring was hammered into the heavy support beam. He passed the rope through the ring and pulled it so that the horse was pulled to the far side of the stall. A tight knot finished the job and Arod futilely tried to fight his way free.
Clotild and Disa ran forward and helped Legolas to his feet and began to half walk, half carry him from the stall. Legolas leaned heavily against one, then the other, and then found his balance and lurched over to Aragorn, his face pale and tense.
"I would have been able to calm him if you had allowed me time, Aragorn. Is this how you treat all that you cannot bend to your will? By binding them?"
Aragorn's eyes lowered of their own will to the golden collar around the pale throat. A look of guilt flitted across his face but then disappeared. "If that is what it takes to do what I must, then yes."
He opened his mouth to continue, but Legolas suddenly paled even more and began to slowly bend over, drawing breath in short, harsh gasps. Arod bugled in alarm and began to pull even more frantically at the rope, shaking the entire stall. A small strained sound escaped the elf's tightly pressed lips, but nothing else.
Clotild came forward and stood in front of the Elf, offering her shoulder as a resting area for his head as he held his breath and counted silently the time till the pain receded. His arms wrapped themselves around her neck after a moment, so that he could hold himself up. After a long moment, Legolas began to gasp for air again.
"We need to fetch Estra." Clotild spoke softly as she picked remnants of straw from the blonde hair with a soothing touch. "Someone needs to ride down and get her, and soon. The pains are coming fast, but the storm outside is coming faster." She did not address anyone in particular, but everyone there knew the sense of her words.
Regin stepped forward and tugged his forelock as he looked to Aragorn. "My Lord, I'll take some horses and go fetch her now. I'd hate to have your lady not have the help she needs when she needs it most." He turned his warm brown eyes to Clotild. "Can you tell me the way, Lady?" He spoke to the maid as if he were speaking to the most highborn of nobles.
Disa spoke up then. "Clotild can show you, My Lord. I'll help the Lady back to her rooms and make all ready." The girl opened her eyes wide and gave a meaningful look to Clotild. The maid frowned, obviously torn about leaving her charge, but also wanting to go with the Portmaster. "Go, Clotild. If you're with him, there's no chance he'll get lost, and you both can help Estra carry everything she needs."
"I agree, Lady. We can ride down together and bring a horse for the midwife." Regin smiled encouragement to her. "Royd, get the horses ready." His son nodded and left.
Clotild shook her head. "My Lord, I don't know how to ride." Her face crumpled while her hands kept smoothing the blonde hair.
The Portmaster smiled. "Then you will ride with me. I won't let you fall." His voice was soft and gentle, and Clotild's heart was won. "And after this is over, I promise I shall personally teach you. There is no shame in not knowing highborn things."
Royd ran up, leading three horses by their reins. Clotild gently disentangled the elf from her shoulder and ran to Regin's side. He effortlessly lifted her up and placed her before his saddle and then swung up behind her. He grabbed one of the other horse's reins and then gestured to his son.
Running on long legs, Royd reached the doors and threw them open, letting the three of them out into the cold air. A light spray of snow blew in as they raced into the teeth of the wind, the door blown shut behind them.
Disa watched them leave and then turned to Legolas. "We have to get you back to the room, Lady. You'll be so much warmer there." She had watched the elf shiver when the others had ridden out.
Straightening his back, Legolas drew himself up, nodded and began to shuffle towards the far doors. Disa trotted afterwards, and then positioned herself to one side to give assistance if needed.
Aragorn stood numbly for a moment, watching them make their slow progress to the far doors and then turned back to Arod. He leaned forward and deftly snagged the end of the slipknot and tugged on it as he moved towards the door. He slammed the door behind him just as the enraged stallion realized he was free.
An angry snort rang into the rafters as Aragorn turned back to his four legged nemesis and smiled. "I may bind those I cannot control, but I also free them against my better judgment. What say you to that, Arod?"
The horse fixed him with a steely eye and then deliberately turned his hindquarters towards the door in what the Man would have sworn was an insult.
Brow furrowed, Aragorn muttered quietly, "I still say living among the Elves has made you entirely too odd, my friend."
The tail swished, but there was no response from Arod's rear.
The
king shrugged and then strode over to where Legolas
was leaning heavily on Disa's shoulder, eyes closed
in pain.
He lifted his hand and gently brushed a strand of sweat soaked hair from the
pale forehead. The tenderness of his
expression was not seen by the pain wracked elf, but by Disa.
The girl narrowed her eyes as she looked from Elf to king, and then shook her head sadly as she turned to open the door to the courtyard. She could hear the wind howling through the heavy wood and knew that it would be a long, painful walk to the palace.
Legolas gasped and opened his eyes again, meeting those of the King. He could only lower his brows in concern as he concentrated on filling his lungs with sweet air.
"Hold a moment, Disa." Aragorn's voice made the girl jump. She froze, hands on the door latch, as he pulled his heavy cloak off and wrapped it tightly around the Elf. He then picked up the Elf with a grunt of effort.
"Put. Me. Down." Legolas grunted between clenched teeth, and flailed awkwardly in the arms that dared to touch him.
"Behave or I'll drop you." Contrary to his words, the king tightened his grip and then nodded to Disa. The girl threw the latch and pulled open the door.
The wind shrieked into the stables, almost pushing the man backwards. He hesitated the barest moment and then leaned forward and walked into the storm.
The wind was piercing, and he started at the feel of the cold biting through his clothing. Snow had begun to fall in heavy sheets, and it hissed in the air as it blew to and fro. The whiteness was beginning to blanket the world and obscure his view of everything. He began to hurry.
Snow flew around them as he made his way across the icy cobblestones. The Elf in his arms began to shiver uncontrollably and then went tense in pain. A pair of arms wrapped around his neck and a face buried itself against his chest. He thought he might have heard a sob, but it was whipped away by the fierce wind.
Disa walked next to him, trying to both guide him and steady him when his feet slipped on the slick ground. Her dark hair was speckled by snow and for a moment he thought it resembled the stars in the night sky. She looked over to him continuously, face drawn in worry, and he noticed the snowflakes melting in her eyelashes.
The ungainly bundle in his arms grew heavier with every step, and the cold air burned his lungs while the sweat generated from his efforts froze on his skin. The body in his arms went limp and then started to shiver violently again. He could feel hot breath gasped onto his chest as he mounted the steps to the double doors of the great hall.
Disa pulled open one of the doors, struggling with it as the wind tried to hold it closed. With great yank, she finally wrenched it open and he was able to step out of the storm.
The wind howled against the high windows of the great hall like a prowling beast and Legolas was reminded of the last time he had stepped through those doors in his own body. His legs almost buckled when Aragorn gently lowered him to his feet and pulled the heavy cloak from his body. Ice and snow fell to the ground around him. Despite himself, he leaned against the man for support.
"You have not gotten any lighter, my friend." Aragorn's voice was teasing, hiding his concern at the pain filled expression.
"I wonder who is at fault for that." There was snarl in the elf's voice.
Disa came forward and gently brushed more snow from Legolas' blonde hair. "I must go and alert the household so that they can make all ready for you." She paused and glanced at the king and then back to the Elf. "I must inform all interested parties of this. Can you bear to have him help you back to the rooms or should I get someone else? Perhaps I can find Lanelese?"
Aragorn wrapped his arms tenderly around the figure that leaned against him. "I will carry Legolas to the rooms. You do what you must." He could feel the Elf stiffen as another wave of pain began. He was unsure if the stiffening was from the pain or protest to his touch.
Disa crooned in the back of her throat as Legolas groaned quietly and clenched his fists. "There, there." Her hands gently brushed the sweat soaked hair back from his neck and caressed his cheek gently. She then turned her attention back to the king. "You don't carry her. A birthing mother must walk. The more she walks, the faster the birth." She put up a finger and silenced his protest. "I have helped my mother and sisters birth seven children. How many children have you helped bring forth?"
The king sighed. "None. I am as ignorant of this as Legolas is, I fear."
The girl frowned and then shook her head. She touched Legolas' face as he began to pant for breath. "I will get everything ready for you, Lady. Soon you'll be done. The pains will come faster and faster, and then your water break and the baby will pop out. You'll see."
"And then I will be free." Legolas glared back at Aragorn as he breathed the words.
"And then you will be free. I swear it." Aragorn lowered his eyes. "I cannot bear the thought of you in such pain because of me. My guilt is overwhelming. I can do nothing but apologize over and over."
Legolas hissed between clenched teeth as the pain began to build again. "Piss on your apologies. Just keep your promise." A low moan was bitten off as the Elf hunched over the source of his agony again.
Disa looked at the elf with worried eyes and then back to the king. "Go at her speed and I'll be waiting when you get there." She then turned and ran to the kitchens as fast as her feet would carry her.
A servant was dispatched to inform Valda of the situation so that the rooms could be made ready for the birthing. Blankets must be prepared, water boiled, the birthing chair brought down, the cradle made up, the wet-nurse summoned. The cook turned her attention from the dinner to making a hearty broth of beef and healing herbs for the new mother.
And then Disa's feet turned to take her to the task she dreaded the most.
She climbed the stairs and then came to the simple wood door that opened into an even simpler and more modest office. Her hands shook as she knocked lightly at that same door and she jumped despite herself when the door flew open suddenly.
Gilby had lit several lamps in his office, and their light gave his pale skin an almost warm cast. His eyes glittered as he looked at the girl and then down the hallway to be sure she was alone. Without a sound he gestured for her to come in and then quietly closed the door behind her.
A large desk covered with scrolls and papers sat near the window that would normally have looked over the outer walls but now simply was gray and white from the storm outside. She stared out the window for a long moment until the thin man cleared his throat and spoke. "Well? What brings you here, little Disa?"
Disa turned from the window and spoke quietly. "The queen has been brought to her childbed, my lord."
Colorless eyes lit up and the thin lips raised themselves into a cold smile. "That is good news. How does she fare?"
"Well enough, one would suppose. The pains have come on much more quickly than I have seen before, but that could mean nothing. Every woman is different when it comes to birthing." She gave an involuntary shiver at his obvious pleasure.
Gilby turned to roll up the scroll that lay open on his desk and then back to the girl. "You should be very happy now, Disa. You'll be home by the end of the week."
The girl lowered her brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"
The thin man smiled as he picked up a sack from the corner. "I mean nothing, dear girl, except that you would be wise to pack your bags." He opened the sack and looked inside, and then closed it with a glance at her. "The only way I would share my plans is if I intended to kill you afterwards. Be grateful for your ignorance."
Disa nodded numbly, knowing how close to death at this man's hands she had been before. "Thank you, my lord."
Gilby nodded at this as if it were his due. "I will not keep you any longer. I expect you are needed to attend the queen." He turned to blow out a lamp, the girl dismissed.
Turning to leave, Disa hesitated and then took a deep breath. "My lord," she asked, fear making her blood go colder than the storm outside, "Are you going to hurt her?"
Fixing her with a cold stare, Gilby smiled a ghastly smile that didn't reach his eyes. "No, curious Disa. I will not be hurting her. She will be just fine if just a tad upset for a while, but I've never met a woman that couldn't learn her place when the lessons are given … strongly enough." The man looked down at the sack in his hand. "I would suggest you ask no more questions. Surely your father warned you about badgering me as well?"
The girl visibly flinched, curtseyed to the exact proper degree and left the room. This time her shaking was not from the cold of the halls.
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Estra frowned at the king as she shook the snow from her braid. The ride through a near blizzard had been bad enough, but to deal with this man was something near unbearable. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. "I said that you can wait outside."
Aragorn straightened. "And I said I will be right here. I want to help."
"You want to help?" Estra repeated the words with a tone of disbelief. "Haven't you done enough already?" She fixed him with a steely glare.
Aragorn crossed his arms and glared back at her. "I am fully aware of what I have done. I wish to make amends however I can. Let me do this."
The midwife threw her hands up in surrender. "Fine. You can stay. But if you disrupt anything or interfere, if she wants you gone, you leave. I want your word on that."
"I swear it." He placed a hand over his heart and bowed slightly to her.
Estra nodded sharply. "Good. Now go help her walk while I get everything ready." She waved dismissal at him and then turned back to the fire to warm her hands and unpack her bag. Clotild stood next to her, heating a cauldron of water and warming herself at the same time. Braziers stood in the corners of the room, bringing the temperature to a bearable level.
She then turned to look at the birthing chair and make sure that all was ready there. The chair was tall and straight with a high back that could come out if the mother needed to lean back on someone. A high stool sat before it, ready for the midwife to sit and guide a new life into the world. A silver basin sat under the chair to catch the waters when they broke and to hold the afterbirth until it could be properly disposed.
The wood was smooth under her fingers as she checked to be sure that there were no rough areas that would hurt the mother. Childbirth was hard enough without adding in the thought of splinters. She nodded her approval and then looked back to the elf.
Legolas had been stripped to a light chemise that hung down to the ankle. The long hair had been brushed out till there were no braids or knots and then pulled back into a loose scrap of leather. Sweat shone on the high forehead and cheekbones. Aragorn walked in front and held the small wrists in his larger hands. She could read his lips as he exhorted the exhausted Elf to keep walking, to keep breathing. She could also see the curl to the rosebud lip, as though the Elf wanted to snap back at the man but was in too much pain to do so. She smiled at the thought. Some things seemed universal to both humans and Elves.
The door opened and Disa walked in, her face pale. She took in the scene before her and then went to the far end of the room where Lanelese was to help prepare blankets and swaddling bands. Estra nodded her approval. The girl knew to keep busy. Everyone in the room was set to their task and did it well. Valda had overseen the setting of the braziers and of heavy tapestries on the walls to keep the heat in. She had then fetched the wet-nurse and installed her in the front room to wait for the child to come. She now sat and watched from the window seat, her hands busy as she finished knitting heavy booties for the child.
Estra then frowned as she saw Legolas bend over again in pain as another contraction hit. They were coming hard and fast, but the progress had not as great as she thought it should be. She turned her timer over to count the minutes between the contractions. Her brow was creased in worry.
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"What is wrong with you? You're as pale as a ghost." Lanelese whispered to Disa as the stepped apart to fold a large blanket between the two of them.
Disa grabbed the opposite corners and stretched out her hands, putting them together and then grabbing the new corner that formed. The two of them then walked forward to put the ends together and Disa whispered, "I am afraid. I had to tell Gilby about this, and he said… things. I am afraid he is up to no good, but I don't know what to do." Lanelese held the ends of the blanket up high and Disa picked up the bottom and matched it to the top edge and then continued. "I'd tell Legolas but I don't think she's in any condition to tell me what to do right now."
Lanelese furrowed her brow as she put the final fold in the blanket and stacked it behind her. "No. I don't think so. Have you told anyone else?"
Disa shook her head. "I don't know who to turn to or trust anymore, except for the people here."
Blue eyes glittering in the lamplight, Lanelese looked around the room. "Very true. But there is one we can trust now." She then grabbed Disa's hand and dragged her through the door to the sitting room. Their exit was so fast that few noted it.
Arnlaug and Regin sat in front of a roaring fire waiting for the birth of the heir. It was a tradition that the Chancellor would be up waiting so that he could witness and accept the child as heir for the people of Gondor. He was overjoyed to finally be doing this part of his duty.
The smell of mulled wine filled the air. Their conversation was quiet and subdued and then stopped completely when they noticed the two women.
"Lanelese. Disa." Arnlaug acknowledged them with a nod. "Is there news?"
Lanelese shook her head. "Not about that, my lord Chancellor. But Disa has something disturbing to tell you that may need your attention." She then looked questioningly at Regin.
Arnlaug saw the look and shook his head. "You can speak freely around Portmaster Regin," He shifted his gaze to Disa. "What is it, Child?"
Disa raised her eyes from their modest state to look at the Chancellor. He was a bear of a man, but kind and gentle. She swallowed hard. "I… I had to report to Gilby about the queen going into labor." She winced inwardly when she saw his face darken and added quickly, "Legolas had me reporting to him so that we could control all that he knew about the household." She closed her eyes and continued. "But when I told him that she was in labor, he was pleased and told me that I should pack my bags and that I would be home before the end of the week." She then opened and looked at him again with large eyes. "He had a sack with something in it and said that the queen would be upset but learn to accept her place soon enough."
Both men were silent. After a long moment, Disa nervously into the quiet. "I asked him what he intended, but he wouldn't tell me."
Arnlaug turned to the fire. "No, he wouldn't tell you. You're just one of his tools, and a female one at that." He shrugged his shoulders. "He doesn't think much of females, much to my wife's disgust." He sighed and turned to Regin. "What think you?"
"I think we need to find him. And quickly." Regin levered himself from his chair and turned back to Arnlaug. "It figures he'd do this during the worst storm yet. I think he does it to vex us."
The Chancellor grunted and then stood. "Let us hope we can find him in time."
The two men bustled from the room, Lanelese and Disa forgotten. Lanelese took the girl by the hand. "You've done everything you could, Disa. I pray it was enough."
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Legolas was exhausted. He had been walking in circles for what seemed to be hours, fighting the pains, using all of his focus so that he would not scream in agony. He had finally wrapped his arms around Aragorn's neck and allowed the man to half drag him around the room. The man had done this without question, whispering encouragement and caressing the long hair as the contractions became increasingly powerful and longer. If Legolas had strength in his limbs or breath in his lungs he would have thrown off the man's hands and cursed at him. Instead he simply laid his head on the broad shoulder and drowsed in between pains.
A feather light touch on his shoulder roused him from his stupor and he tiredly raised his head to look at Estra. The lines in her face were smoothed by the firelight and her hair had taken on golden hints. She looked ageless. Her mouth was set in a frown as she began to speak. He had to strain to hear her voice; it came from so far away.
"You need to stop fighting this, Legolas." She was blunt as usual. "Your body is trying to have this child, but your mind is fighting it. The more you fight against the contractions by not relaxing and breathing through them, the more you slow down your labor."
Legolas shook his head in denial. "This is not my body." He was too exhausted to say anything further, but she already knew all his arguments.
"If you're inside this body, it's your body." Her tone was sharp at first, but then softened. "The baby is going to come whether you want it or not. All you can do is make it harder or easier on yourself. And you've already made it harder." She sighed and tried again. "Don't hold your breath through the pain, but breathe through it. Relax your body and accept what is happening. Don't be afraid to make noise or show that it hurts. No one here will fault you for it."
The Elf shook his head but was too weak to answer. Aragorn stroked the hair again and then spoke softly to the midwife. "We have fought together and I've seen him stand his ground against more horrible creatures than you could ever imagine. I've also seen him endure horrible wounds and pain far worse than this. But I have never seen him like this before. Why?"
Estra sighed and looked into the glazed eyes of the elf. Drowsing again. "Because the pain is not from outside, but from inside. You cannot stop it, you cannot ignore it, you cannot make it go away. It is not from an enemy's sword or axe, but from within. I would think he feels as though his very body betrays him." She smoothed the golden hair back as blue eyes focused on her again, this time filled with pain as another contraction started. "Betrayal has become commonplace in this one's life, it seems."
She frowned as the eyes closed in concentration and the lips compressed into a line. A small whimper sounded in the back of Legolas' throat, but there was no other sound. "Breathe with it", she whispered sharply, but there was no response from the Elf.
The midwife's eyes narrowed her eyes as she reached over, took the slender shoulders in her hands and shook hard. Legolas' eyes flew open, his concentration broken. He sucked in a pain filled breath and then began to gasp. "Breathe", she repeated. "Breathe in, breathe out. Let the pain go through you and work for you. Relax into it." He tried to clamp down on the sounds coming from his mouth but he could not prevent a low moan of pain from escaping along with the breaths he was taking. The hurt receded and he felt boneless as he leaned up against the broad chest in front of him. He barely made out Estra's voice next to him, her tone much happier. "Good. A few more like that and we'll be getting somewhere."
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Gilby made his way to the shed in the garden, glad of the storm that hid him from view. He opened the door and let himself into the warmth that was there. The tip of his nose tingled with the sudden temperature change and he dropped his sack next to the door while he divested himself of his cloak. The wind wailed outside as if reading his purpose. He smiled grimly at that thought.
Arick stood and bowed to the councilor. With a wave of his hand, Gilby spoke. "Go back to the hall and get something hot to eat, Arick. I wish to have harsh words with our friend here. I'll come get you when I'm done."
The guard raised an eyebrow but would not disobey. He collected his cloak and left.
Gilby watched the hulking guard leave and then turned to the cell. "The queen", he started directly, "is in her childbed. What do you think she'll bring forth?"
Davyn half reclined, half sat in a chair. His increasing weakness had become more and more evident over the past few days and even now he was barely able to move. "A baby?" He had lost none of his wit, however.
The thin man smiled an unpleasant smile at the mage. "Yes, a baby." His smile became more feral. "A baby with an impeccable royal linage that needs to be raised to be a proper ruler for Gondor. A future king needing a proper education and upbringing."
The mage wrinkled his brow, but said nothing.
Gilby took his silence for encouragement and continued. "The queen will bring forth a child. She will insist on being returned to her normal form by you." A pale finger pointed to the mage. "She would be lost to us forever, and I cannot allow that."
"And how would you prevent this, Gilby?" Davyn groaned as he leaned forward. "The king has already forbidden you to force her to stay."
"The king doesn't know what is good for this realm. He would best serve his kingdom if he turned over his powers to a regency. He could easily retire from the public eye after the two of them have provided us with the heirs we need."
Davyn raised an eyebrow. "Treason, my friend, falls very easily from your lips. Why do you share it with me?"
Gilby walked back to the door and latched it from the inside, testing the tightness of the lock. He then picked up the sack he had left at the door when he'd entered the room. "The king will have to die, you know. He won't give up his powers willingly. I'd thought of imprisoning him, but he would escape."
His hands dug into the sack as he spoke in a light voice, almost as if discussing the weather. "And the queen would revert to her true form if he died. That would be most unpleasant. I'd actually thought about having you take her spell and turning the focus from him to me." He looked up at the mage and smiled. "She is very beautiful, and I thought it would be fitting for a Regent to take a royal wife. I could easily put aside the one I have now and force the Elf to accept me after a fitting period of mourning for the king. She would do it to protect the children that I would raise."
Davyn spoke in a quiet voice. "I am too weak to do that now, even if I would agree to it."
With a nod, Gilby agreed. "Oh yes. And the last thing I want is for you to have any power or strength." He laughed silently. "I cannot trust you, you cannot trust me. We understand this about each other." He drew from the sack a length of woolen blanket, cut into strips and tied together into a rope. The wool was the same as the blankets on the cot in the cell. "So it comes down to this. I have plans for the queen to remain the way she is. Her child I will raise properly as befits a ruler of Gondor, and the king I will either control or eliminate. If I can get them to produce a second heir before I do this, even better."
Davyn's eyes widened in understanding. "What if this child is a girl? A girl cannot take the throne."
"No, she can't. But I have a lovely son to marry her to if needs be. Then he can ascend the throne and I will be the father of a king. If the child is a boy, then I raise the king as my own. Either way I have many years of power as Regent." He took the blanket rope and tossed one end of it up over the rafter that crossed over the cell. The end fell on the table next to the mage, the end already tied into a noose. "So, you see, I can't lose. All I have to do is remove all the variables and remove the thing that will keep them from producing the heir and a spare. You."
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Legolas felt the cold wood of the chair beneath his buttocks. The back had been removed and he leaned slightly back against Aragorn's chest. The man's arms were under his breasts, and helped support him. Estra sat on her stool and looked up, waiting.
"Push!" Estra shouted.
"Push what?" Legolas gasped back through the pain.
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It took everything that Davyn had to stand and lean against the table as the councilor opened the door and strolled into the cell. "You mean to kill me now, then?"
"Yes. So sorry." Gilby's hands were deceptively thin. They certainly didn't look as strong as they were. Davyn was yanked forward and lifted onto a chair almost casually. "No one will come to stop me because the entire city is focused on what is happening up in that room upstairs. No one remembers you're alive right now, and no one will care that you're dead once they have an heir. It's perfect." The noose went down over the tattooed neck and was tightened cruelly. "Especially since you're going to kill yourself, you know. I mean, you ripped up your own blanket and made a rope while I went to go fetch your guard after our discussion about what you'll suffer after you've restored to Elf to his true form." There was a light chuckle.
"You are a reprehensible human being." Davyn loaded the phrase with as much sarcasm as he could while his weak fingers futilely tried to undo the knot at the back of his neck.
"And you're a glowing paragon of virtue, Davyn." Gilby responded in kind as he stepped back to the other end of the woolen rope and wrapped it around one of the ironwood bars.
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Legolas leaned forward as he sobbed in pain and bore down with all his strength. The arms wrapped around his chest helped steady him against the strong chest behind. His hands grasped the arms of the chair in a white knuckled grip. He then relaxed and rested for a few seconds, gathering his strength to do it again.
Estra gently rubbed the inside of his thigh and coaxed him, "You're doing fine. Now push harder." He sobbed in exhaustion and then looked up for the first time since he'd been in the chair.
The woman in the mirror looked back at him from over Estra's back. The fair face was red with effort and strain. His eyes shifted to what was happening between her legs and her face expression changed from fatigue to shock and terror. His breath died in his lungs and then he felt something inside him break. "Cover the mirror." He was barely able to breathe the words.
"What?" Aragorn leaned forward to hear him.
"Cover the mirror." Legolas sobbed aloud. "COVER THE MIRROR!" This time he screamed the words and then caught his breath as another wave of pain washed over him, another urge to push out the child that he knew in his mind that he couldn't be having even though his body WAS having it right then and there. He leaned forward and pushed, screaming in the agony of mental surrender as he did so. He was not male, he was female, he was trapped and having a child that he would be forced to leave behind. He was doing something that his mind could not accept except for the fact that he had seen in the mirror the child's head crowning from between his legs.
Lanelese ran forward and flipped a sheet over the looking glass.
He collapsed, limp against Aragorn, eyes wild with a tenuous grip on sanity, his mind on the brink of breaking.
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Davyn felt his feet leave the wood of the chair and wrapped his hands around the wool rope. Gilby hauled on the rope, raising the mage up another few inches. Davyn gagged and quickly considered his options. He already knew that there was no escape from this situation that would leave him alive, so he now had to figure what would cause the most damage to his enemy.
He fingered the wool and felt the natural oils in it. He curled his lip in a pained sneer. It would conduct energy, but not well. Most of it would be lost in the transmission. But this was his final strike, so what did it matter if there was a little waste? It was with a true feeling of irony that he realized his actions now would actually help those he wanted to hurt the most.
The mage closed his eyes and summoned up the life force that he bore deep inside and channeled it through his fingers into the woolen rope. The raw power flared and flowed in a bright blue light down the rope and through the bars into Gilby's body.
The councilor's body began to jerk and twitch with the influx of energy. His hands tightened on the rope reflexively as all the muscles in his body0 contracted. A high keening cry escaped from the thin man's lips as his skin and eyes began to smoke. And then Gilby burst into an eerie blue flame. The high pitched noise continued for a few more moments and then stopped.
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Legolas drew himself up and bore down again, tears flowing freely. A grunt of effort escaped his lips as he felt something give down below.
"Stop. Pant like a dog." Estra's command was sharp and he obeyed instantly. He was incapable of coherent thought at the moment.
He could see Estra holding something in her hand, wiping something with a rag. He then closed his eyes and turned his head into Aragorn's neck, hiding his face from whatever it was down there. He could feel the king leaning forward, looking eagerly and breathing out in wonder and joy.
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Davyn swung from the rafter, his feet twitching spasmodically as his face turned blue and then black. His swollen tongue fell from his lips and he breathed his last in a rattling gurgle.
Thus died Mage Davyn, former servant of Sauron, and last of his kind.
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"One more push, Legolas. One more." Estra's voice was not as sharp as before, but he obeyed just the same, eyes still closed and face hidden.
He closed his eyes even tighter, hid his face even more when he felt the strange feeling of something being pulled from within him and heard the first cries of an infant.
Thus was born the child of Aragorn and Legolas.
And the snow hissed against the window panes as the heavens wept.
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"A girl." Estra's voice rang out over the squalling of the child. "A beautiful, perfect girl."
Legolas clamped his eyes shut even tighter and turned his head away from the sound.
"Do you not wish to see her? She's beautiful. Look what you have given me." Aragorn's voice was awed.
The elf shook his head and tried not to hear the cries. "No. I have given you nothing. You took what you wanted. Now free me."
He could hear the child being taken away, her cries becoming fainter as they carried her into the front room to the wet-nurse who waited there. The howling continued unabated, but was filtered slightly by the door.
Legolas finally opened his eyes and looked down at the midwife who was still perched on her stool between his legs. "We're not done yet." Estra smiled gently. "But we're done with the worst part." He nodded numbly.
Valda tapped Aragorn on the shoulder. "Come. Clotild can take your place while you come see your child."
The king nodded and allowed the maid to sit behind the exhausted elf. His feet barely touched the ground as he thought about the joy of holding his infant daughter for the first time.
Together he and Valda made their way into the sitting room where the infant was yowling at the top of her lungs. The wet-nurse, a vacant eyed brown haired woman, was desperately trying to get the child to nurse.
The child's entire body was a bright, angry red with eyes closed in rage as she screamed her fury again and again at the world. The nipple was put into her mouth, and then rejected. The woman then tried to dribble a little milk into the open mouth but the child gurgled and choked, refusing to swallow. The woman kept trying, much to the child's dismay.
Arnlaug and Regin walked in at that moment, their faces showing apprehension.
Aragorn thought it was from the child's screaming. "Look, Chancellor!" He gestured proudly at the screaming child. "I have a daughter for you to recognize."
The Chancellor looked down at the child and then at his liege again. "A daughter? I accept her as your child for the people of Gondor. Many congratulations." He shook his head. "I was hoping for a son, of course, but I'm not complaining. She certainly sounds healthy."
Regin snorted. "If the daughter is half as beautiful as the mother, every kingdom under the sun will be trying for a marriage alliance by the time she's walking. A daughter is just as important as a son."
Nodding his agreement with this point, Arnlaug's face turned grim. "My Leige, I have bad news to report. Any other news I would not disrupt your bliss with, but this is important."
The king frowned. "What?"
Regin cleared his throat. "We were informed that Gilby might be making a move of some sort while everyone was distracted. Our informant was correct, unfortunately."
Arnlaug nodded. "We searched his offices and his quarters first, then the barracks thinking he might be contacting one of his operatives for something covert. We went last to see Davyn, who he has been conspiring with for quite a while. It was there that we found…" The old man shook his head at the memory of what they had found. The smell had been the worst part.
"We had to kick in the door because he'd locked it from the inside. He'd strung up Davyn on a rope made from wool blankets -- we think to make it look like a suicide. The one thing he didn't count on was Davyn retaliating in some way. Gilby was… burned. Horribly burned. They were both long gone by the time we got in, My lord." He wiped a hand over his tired face. "We've failed you."
Aragorn sat down hard next to the wet-nurse and the still screaming child, his expression shocked. "This will kill Legolas, you know. The only thing that has kept him sane has been the knowledge that he would be restored once this child was born. He will surely die of grief when he hears this."
Valda turned from where she had been watching the wet-nurse try to feed the struggling child. "Then we will have to give her a reason to live." She gently took the child from the dull eyed woman and rocked the infant gently. "I say her because there is no hope of a restoration to her former self. We will have to force her to realize this, and force her to accept the child."
"I promised." The king covered his face with his hands. "I promised again and again that he would be free after this."
Valda only shook her head. "You know as well as I that the only way he can be free now is if you were to die." She turned and faced the rest of them. "Not a word, not a breath of this to anyone, and especially not to her." She turned back towards the bedroom with a rustling of skirts that was drowned out by the wailing of the child.
Legolas leaned back against Clotild and drowsed. Estra was busily laying stitches in an area that had torn, but he felt no pain, strangely enough. Perhaps it was because his spirit was lightened by the thought that he would soon be free. Free of this form, free of this place, free of Gondor.
He was so lost in dreams that at first he did not hear the screaming of his daughter when Valda walked back in. It was the calm sound of her voice that roused him. "It is as we feared, Estra. The child will not nurse from a human."
"But…" The midwife cut off her protest for some reason.
Legolas focused his eyes on the countess as she held the squalling bundle against her chest. He then closed his eyes and looked away. "No." He spoke the word from the bottom of his soul.
"You must." Valda's voice was equally deep.
"No." He shook his head in denial of everything. The child screamed louder and turned redder, if that were possible.
Aragorn then spoke. "You must."
Valda leaned forward as though to pass the child to him. He threw up his hands and sobbed. "NO!" Flailing his arms weakly, he tried to push them away, but hit the child's leg instead. "NO!! You can't do this to me."
Clotild gasped behind him and was pushed out of the way by Aragorn, who settled again in back of him, this time holding the thrashing arms still as Legolas began to weep.
"It would be a shame for this little one to die after all the work you've done in birthing her." Valda's voice was smoothest reason. "If you deny her your breast she will die, and you would have killed her. What would your father say to that?"
Legolas froze at those words. "No. You said you'd find someone else." Tears ran down his cheeks as he realized the enormity of what they were saying. He turned to Aragorn. "You promised. You swore." The king nodded sadly.
"We did find someone else, but she won't nurse from a human. Do you see any Elven wet-nurses here?" This time Valda did move forward with the child. She pulled the neck of the chemise open and laid the child awkwardly against his left breast.
Estra leaned forward and helped steady the child, her face drawn with sadness. The child instantly stopped crying and began to root for the nipple. The midwife deftly helped the child find it, and smiled when the child instantly latched on and began to suckle. "Hold her like this." Estra then took Legolas' arms and arranged them around the baby in the proper way. "Always support her head."
Legolas made as though to push the child away, but his arms were held in place by the man behind him, strong dark arms over his own pale ones.
Aragorn leaned over the pale shoulder , watched the child vigorously nurse and smiled. "What shall we call little no-name, Legolas? It is our custom here that the women name the girls. Do you have a name for her?"
Legolas stared at the thing in his arms and tried to process the sensation of a child nursing at his breast. He shook his head numbly, unable to speak.
"I have a name for her then. Luthiél, after your mother."
The child made small noises as she nursed, and Legolas stared down at her. A head full of silky, fine dark hair covered a delicate ear with an even more delicate point. Her skin, once an angry red, was fading into a pearly pink color.
He started at his daughter for what seemed days before he took one small hand into his own and began to count the tiny fingers.