Disclaimer: I do not own Faramir or Éowyn or Ioreth, and I don't own the name Elanor but I do own the baby whose name is Elanor. Confusing, huh?

Chapter Three

The Miracle of Birth

Time happily passed and Éowyn grew larger, to Faramir's delight. She had many strange cravings, though, and more than once asked for a dish that was very rare and hard to prepare. Faramir didn't mind, he was far more happy than he could ever remember, and he wondered about the gender of the baby. They decided that they would name a boy Boromir, after Faramir's late brother, and if it was a girl, they would name her Elanor, because the Elanor flower was the most beautiful and delicate in all of Middle-earth. He knew that whatever sex the baby was, he would love him or her with all of his heart. He wondered if the baby would have raven or golden hair, if it would have blue or grey eyes, if it would be tall and strong or slender and delicate, a warrior or a lore-master. He planned the life of the child before ever it left the womb, and eight months into Éowyn's pregnancy, he had two nurseries prepared, one if the baby proved to be male, and another for a female. The other would be left for future children.

And so, one uncommonly chilly day in November, Faramir and Éowyn were sitting together on a chaise lounge, huddling to stay warm. Both were wearing three layers of clothing. Éowyn was knitting, and Faramir was making sure she stayed warm and comfortable.

Faramir shivered. "It's never this cold here," he commented.

Éowyn smiled. "I don't mind. Rohan was a very cold place." This was the most she'd ever told him about Rohan at a time, and the only time she'd mentioned it without being prodded. Faramir was surprised.

Éowyn set her knitting aside and laid her head on her husband's chest. He wrapped his arms around her and they sat this way for some time.

Suddenly, Éowyn leapt up and ran to out of the room. Faramir, who'd been dozing off, ran after her. "Éowyn! What's the matter?"

Éowyn stood in a puddle of water. She grimaced. "Call the midwife."

Faramir ran off immediately in search of Ioreth. "Ioreth! Ioreth! Where are you?" He sighed. "Why did they have to make this place so big?" he muttered to himself.

Ioreth came around a corner, wiping her hands on a towel. Faramir almost ran straight into her. "Lord Faramir! Where and why are you running? Surely there is some reasoning behind this? Unless you've lost your mind like your poor father, but I'm sure you don't want to talk about that…"

"Good Ioreth," Faramir replied gently but firmly, "Surely I wouldn't have run the halls calling your name unless there was great reason. And no, I have not lost my mind. I tend to believe that was a once-in-a-family-tree experience."

Ioreth clapped her free hand to her mouth. "You don't mean…but it's only eight and a half months. How could it be so early?"

"Only the Valar know, but we'd best get back to her before the child is birthed without midwife or father present!" Faramir ran back to Éowyn's chamber and Ioreth followed, albeit slowly. Faramir often had to stop and wait for her to catch up.

"Why did they make this place so big?" Ioreth muttered.

Faramir smiled in spite of the circumstances. "Yes, I often ask that myself."

They arrived back to Éowyn in a matter of minutes, but to Faramir it felt like hours. Éowyn was sitting in a large chair, wearing a thinly woven dress that had been spun and tailored for this sort of occasion. Ioreth looked her over and smiled. "It's time, milady," she said.

It took grueling hours. Often, Faramir felt so stressed that he felt he couldn't take it anymore, then he remembered what Éowyn must be going through. He recalled again the night the young one had been conceived and felt a pang of remorse. If he'd known that his few moments of pleasure would cause his wife hours of pain then he never would have taken the chance. Sometimes he sat with her, and sometimes Ioreth told him to leave because he was causing a stressful environment. "She's still be here if you release her hand, Lord Faramir," she said playfully as she shooed him out. He flopped on a couch outside the room and thought some more about the difficulties that sensual pleasure caused. Poor Éowyn! The monthlies and now the childbearing were repercussions to womanhood that men just didn't have. He truly felt her pain for the first time and winced at the weight of it. How strong a woman must be!

It was with this thought that the baby was born. Through the wall, he heard the first wail as the baby sucked in its first breath. He rushed in. Ioreth smiled at him. "It's a little girl, milord."

Faramir's concern for the condition of his wife was overwhelmed by his joy that he had helped bring this beautiful girl to life. Éowyn grinned tiredly and held out her arms for her cleaned and wrapped baby. Faramir went to his wife's side and looked at his baby's little red face, her wisps of curly dark hair and her tiny clenched hands. "She's so small," he said incredulously.

Éowyn smiled. "She's beautiful."

Ioreth nodded. "That she is, and a proper woman she'll be. Would you like to nurse her?"

Éowyn nodded. "I'd like that." Ioreth helped her get situated and showed her the right way to hold a nursing baby. The little girl looked up at her mother and in her eyes was nothing but love.

"What to name her, milady?" Ioreth asked.

Éowyn looked at her husband and nodded. Faramir replied, "Elanor."

"Elanor Anarion. She's perfect." Ioreth bowed to her lord and lady and left.

Faramir smiled at his wife. "Yes, she is. Yes she is."

End

End Note: I know that originally it was Sam and Rosie who had the blue-eyed blonde-haired Elanor but I love that name and thought that it fit here, too. I hope that my fellow Tolkien fanatics won't mind.

There's a chance that I may write a series of F/E fics about them raising little Elanor, and if I decide to do that, then I hope everyone who read "The Captain & The White Lady" and everyone who just finished "To Have & To Hold" will tune in for updates on my profile, because I'll put it in there before I post the stories. It's nice to be prepared sometimes.