Faramir could hardly believe his eyes when he entered Arwen's chambers again.

Aragorn was no longer sitting by the sickbed like a statue but hurried from one corner to another and gave calm instructions about what should be collected and prepared next. Neither the determined tension in his shoulders nor his much kinder tone had anything in common with the broken man Faramir had last left behind in here.

"You look tired, friend," he addressed Aragorn at last because the King didn't even seem to have noticed him yet.

For that, he let his eyes wander to Arwen far too often to assure himself that his little miracle had indeed happened while he was already having everything not needed any longer and now only reminding him of the last few dark days removed from the chambers.

"Nothing can't be changed about that for now, I'm afraid." A smile that one would definitely have not expected to see on Aragorn's face so quickly again spread on his lips. He quickly washed his face with cold water to look at least a little more alive before finally changing this shabby tunic for a new one that Ranír must have brought him already.

He answered Faramir's next question with a confused shake of his head and a laugh. "I wish I knew myself. For a little while, it got even worse. I thought, her body would just give now. But at some point, the healing finally started to work. Langhour and I could make the fever go down together. She hasn't given up for even one second …"

Faramir noticed it immediately when Aragorn's voice started to tremble, when the King was staggering slightly, and he quickly led him to a chair.

Only now that all fear was finally melting away from his friend, did the deep shock from the last few days fully unfurl. It wasn't only his emotional limits that the King had severely crossed.

"Let us thank the Valar for it. And now, it's your turn to recover." Faramir stopped Aragorn from getting up again immediately with his hands tightly closed around the King's upper arms. "Sleep for a while. There's nothing left for you to fear when you wake up."

"Nothing but angry citizens, you mean?"

Aragorn stared at his left hand reluctantly that was trembling away. Being a Ranger himself, Faramir could easily imagine, Aragorn hadn't even felt so much like he was at an end after being on watch in the woods for days at a stretch. It would probably have helped him to lay down beside Arwen, to hold her tight and forget everything else around him. Unfortunately, there was one more thing right now he couldn't ask anyone else to do.

"At least the new day can now start with me giving the citizens the good news first thing that another crisis is overcome. The people deserve that."

Though it was calming that his duties were already being so important to Aragorn again: Not even the most iron will could just eliminate a man's body's basic needs. When he made a move to stand up, he had to let himself fall back down immediately. With a hefty elvish curse, he closed his eyes.

Frustratedly, he crossed his hands behind his neck, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Part of me thinks that I'll be waking up any second. That unreal feeling probably won't vanish before I share the happiness with others. And there are still so many things to organize …" When he tried it again, slower now, he managed to get up. "Letters need to be sent to the other realms, we need new healing potions and …"

"Elessar!" Faramir stopped him by just grabbing Aragorn's shoulders and pushing him down on the edge of the bed. How easy that was tonight, manhandling such a battle seasoned warrior whose reflexes usually bested his own easily, supported his case.

"All of this is a job that other people can do for you. You can't just forget the last few days, just because Arwen is doing better, neither physically nor mentally. Believe someone who's already tried that with far too many tragedies. Such things don't just vanish."

Aragorn absently stroked the new bracelet on Arwen's wrist.

"You're right but that doesn't change anything. While you and the others stopped the word from reaching these rooms, I know how many are accusing of allegedly having left the people alone. Let me do it my way. I have to appear outside at least for a moment, so that the doubts about the strength of my rule will not return. If people will patiently wait for the real speech in the afternoon then, that's worth a collapse."

Faramir shook his head in resignation. "Does it make any sense, trying to convince you?"

"For how long have we known each other?"

"Right. I didn't even need come here."

When Aragorn gratefully put a hand on his shoulder, something loosened its painful grip on Faramir's heart that had actually already existed since shortly after the coronation. No matter how terrible this barely avoided catastrophe had been, at least the two of them finally seemed to be speaking the same language again.

Maybe that was all that counted right now.


Angry, throbbing pain was the first thing reaching Arwen's conscious mind. Her lower belly burned as if someone had pierced it with a sword. Memories of her injury from the Battle of the Black Gate flashed inside her head as blurred images; she could hardly have a clear thought. The first attempt at moving failed. It was far more tempting to keep on sleeping. Finally, her mind made it to fight its way out of the darkness enough to recall in fragments the last conversation with Aragorn, especially the unbridled fear in his eyes.

The thought of her husband and the twins enabled Arwen to turn her head at last. After the long unconsciousness, even the weak sunlight hurt her eyes. With a quiet moan, she blinked a few times.

The noise seemed to have attracted attention because she could sense movement in the room immediately. Someone bent over her and felt her pulse. It was not her husband; him, she would have identified immediately by the well-known, beloved scent of soil and wax.

Since the sun was standing right behind the silhouette of the man with the half-long dark hair, Arwen needed a few seconds before she recognized him. "I've actually to see expected another Dúnadan."

"I'm very glad you're awake. The King is next door, with the children."

Langhour helped Arwen to sit up a little straighter so that he could give her something to drink. Not without taking another look into her eyes, to be able to make out a possible haze that the aftermath of the fever might produce, he put the cup aside then and left her alone.

He was discreet enough to stay next door, too, and to instruct the people there not to follow the King either.

What felt like only a second later, Aragorn was sitting next to her and pressed Arwen against him.

She could feel tears on her neck and caressed his back calmingly, as well as she could manage to already. Only when her husband had calmed down a little, she murmured his name.

Aragorn seemed to feel that she was tensing up painfully more and more in the half-sitting position and helped her lay down again. "How do you feel?"

"If I said that out loud, I'd have to use words that are neither appropriate for a Lady at an elvish nor at a mannish court." Yearningly, Arwen nuzzled against even the smallest touch.

"That's alright. You know how much I like your insolence."

Aragorn's voice threatened to break; he had to swallow thickly. "I thought I would lose you, again …" He bent down to her so he could rest his cheek against hers.

"And I was so afraid that I wouldn't find my way back to you." Somehow, she mustered up enough strength to wrap her arms around his neck. "Mîl nín, I …"

A suppressed sob drowned out the rest of that sentence, subsiding only when Aragorn put his hand on her belly which was still clearly rounded from the pregnancy, and gave her a kiss on her neck.

"It's over. All that's left for you to do now is recover." Tenderly, he brushed her hair back.

Without leaving her out of his sight, he reached for a bowl with cold water. He had to see how much it bothered Arwen when he put a soft cloth on her forehead. "Leave it there, please. Your fever isn't completely gone yet. Sleep a little more, alright? A stock that will numb the pain a little will be ready soon."

"In a minute. Where are the children?" Clenching her teeth, Arwen tried to sit up again. She ignored Aragorn's worried glance at her breathless gasp when a protesting twinge went through her lower body. She finally wanted to take a good look at her babies.

If their places had been exchanged, Aragorn would probably not have fared any differently so he got Minuial from the room next door without an objection and signaled Ranír to follow him with Eldarion. He carefully put Arwen's daughter on her arm and sat down behind her in such a way that he could wrap an arm around her.

He didn't even try to calm her down when the tears started to fall again. This time, it was alright. No one needed to be ashamed of tears of this kind.

Minuial yawned quietly and stared at Arwen in surprise from these fascinating dark eyes, whining softly when one of Arwen's tears fell on her little arm.

Arwen wiped it away carefully. Minuial looked so fragile that she had to fear, every touch could too firm. But the little one made it wrap her little hand firmly around her finger.

"She's recognized you. The two of them were in your bed whenever it was possible." Aragorn kissed her hair and caressed his daughter's cheek, then asked Ranír to sit down next to Arwen.

Arwen needed a moment before she could show any reaction at all. "They are so beautiful …"

"And they would never have survived the birth without your strength. Thank you, Nauriel." Aragorn's eyes were shining once more too; with an embarrassed smile, he wiped them.

In spite of all happiness, he could feel that Arwen was trembling more by the second. "The little ones are tired, just like you. Get some rest now, alright?"

"Can they stay here?" Arwen wanted to watch the twins being cared for at least.

"They wake up frequently and start screaming because they're hungry. The wet nurse and they would wake you up regularly, and then you would recover even slower, Nauriel. It's just for a short time, I promise." Aragorn had to sense how deeply it hit Arwen that a stranger was feeding the children right now.

"The little ones are probably already thinking the nurse to be their mother." It should be a joke but there was a clear hint of pain in her too quiet words.

"Then why did they scream their heads off whenever the nurse took them away from you?" Aragorn's answer to Arwen's unbelieving expression was a loving kiss. "Ask Ranír. Eldarion in particular could get really loud when we parted him from you."

"Absolutely! The little one already has a strong will, your Majesty." The handmaiden nodded so eagerly that the jerky movement startled the baby in her arms that promptly started to cry indeed.

While Ranír and Aragorn grimaced, Arwen suddenly laughed, albeit still feebly. This was one of the most beautiful sounds she had ever heard. "He's already just as cheeky as I used to be as a child."

"You still are, you know." Aragorn got up, but visibly reluctantly. "They're waiting for the twins and me. Just like you, the citizens of Minas Tirith want to see their Princess and their Prince. But don't worry, I'll stay with you afterward. If I don't finally go to sleep, Faramir will probably knock me out personally."

"If he does, he'll feel my sword as soon as I can walk again."

A scanning glance over Aragorn's dried-out skin had Arwen agree with the Steward from a distance though. "I would insist that you're staying myself if I could talk louder than a mouse chirps."

"At least you're the most beautiful mouse in all of Gondor and Imladris, mîl nín." Until Arwen fell asleep from exhaustion again, Aragorn never stopped caressing her arm.


The public appearance exhausted Aragorn a lot more than the short walk in the court in the morning, to pass on the word about his family's recovery to a few curious watchers.

The twins had been welcomed by the people so exuberantly that Aragorn wouldn't be surprised if the first celebrations in the streets started in the evening already. It would probably only be the weather keeping people from doing that.

The noise had been so deafening that Aragorn hadn't only been brief with his speech because of his own condition. Such excitement also still strained the little ones too much right now.

Upon arrival at the door of Arwen's chambers, he paused and signaled Faramir to do the same. There was one thing he had to straighten out before his bed was waiting for him. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. Please pass that same word on to the Lord of Cair Andros. I will be seeing him as soon as Arwen has regathered a little strength."

"Don't burden your mind with that. You haven't been yourself in the last few days."

Faramir couldn't bite back a grin though, one eyebrow raised. He knew how difficult it often was for Aragorn to apologize. Courage and pride in particular weren't always an advantage.

Aragorn shook his head. "I can't just ignore that. For that, I'm demanding everything from the beings around me far too often. I even want them to show strength when they themselves think they can't carry on. Sometimes I don't meet my own requirements, it seems."

"Just remember exactly that. That's all that's necessary. Even a leader makes mistakes, my friend, even though many of them don't like to admit that. My father was a master of denying them. Since you're not as half as stubborn as he was, I don't have to worry about you."

He put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder for a moment and nodded at Minuial who was writhing reluctantly in his arms. "I think your daughter is hungry."

"It's time again already, yes." Aragorn soothingly caressed the girl's cheek.

Although he felt more dead than alive right now, it would have been blind, not to see the loving look Faramir regarded the babies with when the wet nurse took them from them. After the long strains of repopulating Ithilien and the problems with the Stewardaides, the young man suddenly seemed almost mirthful, and plenty wistful, too. Aragorn hoped that the Valar would soon show generosity in this regard as well. Not only for Faramir; Éowyn, too, deserved it to finally experience full domestic happiness, now that the long time after the war had ended that she had almost become a victim of the King's enemies in.

But when he teasingly remarked that people would surely love an announcement about offspring in the Steward's house as well, his friend shook his head.

"That's not going to happen in the next few years. Not because we don't want it," he quickly added when Aragorn critically lowered his head. No new problems in this marriage then that had been so turbulent so far anyway. Especially none that would possibly have been traceable back as far as Éowyn's former infatuation with Aragorn; that really was a relief.

"We're just not in a hurry. First, we finally want to leave the terrors of war behind and find ourselves. And I think, I'll motivate Éowyn to serve in the White Company for a few years. She's been far too unbalanced since the war. If she only focuses on healing henceforth that she loves so much right now, she'll wither. Being able to let off some steam with her shield and sword, in addition, will do her well. Once she's found her inner peace, we'll be ready for a baby."

"Your wisdom shows once again, my friend. I rather don't want to be anywhere nearby when you try to explain that to His Majesty Éomer though." Aragorn laughed quietly, still fighting his surprise. It seemed, he had missed several things in the last few weeks. About time to catch up.

"Since you don't want to hear any extensive apologies, can I get you and your wife interested in a diner instead, as soon as Arwen is feeling better?"

This broad, anticipating grin had Faramir almost look like a little boy sometimes. "I'll gladly accept that. I hope this is not an attempt to duck out of the celebration though."

"The celebration …?"

"Of course." About to leave the chambers already, Faramir looked back over his shoulder once more, a smirk on his lips. "An extravagant celebration for the whole city has to happen soon. Or does the King not want to honor the birth of his children appropriately? I'll take care of it. Now go to sleep before someone has to carry you to the Houses of Healing."

Yes, given that commanding tone, Faramir would surely be a good father one day …

The thought of a feast didn't please Aragorn much, especially because of the Stewardaid in the Citadel; but his substitute was right of course, there was no way people wouldn't demand that.

But these were definitely not worries he wanted to deal with today on top of everything else today.


T.A. 3021


"So, how was it?" Arwen tried to push herself upright but gave it up after a few painful moments of effort. The recovery progressed only slowly. She hadn't even been able to attend the celebration at the turn of the year of Men a few days ago, because she just couldn't get out of bed. Due to recent events, a party on an only very humble scale anyway.

She wanted to be there at least for the celebration in honor of the twins, and for that exactly, she should be resting. But first, she had to make sure that everything was alright with Legolas and the children – all of the children.

Ioreth had had agreed to that whole plan, of course; and the other elf had withheld his request until Arwen had done noticeably better which had surely not been easy for him, because his own wife was doing worse by the day. At some point, the hope that the sight of the almost completely healthy twins would cheer Tarisilya up, had just been too tempting.

Given the threat of the King's enemies still hovering over them all, Arwen hadn't been happy about the twins being taken from her chambers anyway. But she had owed this to Tarisilya. And she didn't want Legolas to bear this fear any longer that Aragorn had had to deal with after her own delivery.

Unfortunately, her friend's expression quickly revealed that the visit hadn't achieved the desired effect.

"She wants me to tell you that the little ones are developing splendidly. Ilya is acting like nothing's wrong everything, as usual." His thoughts visibly still in the guesthouse of the King, Legolas lowered himself onto the windowsill, with the typical smooth movements of an elf that didn't even make the baby on his arm stir in its sleep.

"Now that she can hardly leave the bed anymore, her mind shuts out every rationality for good and almost embraces dark visions, no matter how stupid they look in daylight."

Legolas hardly took his eyes off of Minuial for even a second. The little ones had taken his heart by storm; the anticipation in his smile at the sight of the newborn was hard to ignore.

"I'm afraid, she won't listen to me. That's only worked once, for a few weeks, back then before your wedding. And yet, there's probably no one who understands her better than I do." Arwen hadn't processed what had happened at the birth by a long shot. In weak moments, the memory still had her tremble. When Legolas' sighed, only even more crestfallen, she shook her head in determination. That was over, damnit.

"Ilya is doing far better than I had before it started. If she finally understands how strong she is and stops telling herself that something bad must happen, she'll soon be able to laugh again."

"And that's exactly what she won't allow to fill her mind. My hopes are now resting on the son of our old combat trainer. Thondrar couldn't leave the settlement on a whim so far. The other elves feared that there could be new attacks from the last remaining Stewardaides. But now there's a couple of Faramir's soldiers around, and they've been instructed. Now he can go with a clear conscience. There are elves to whose wisdom even a stubborn being like Ilya tends to listen."

A slightly absent, light kiss hit Miniual's little forehead. "And that the three of you are doing so well alone should make both her and me look forward."

His next words were interrupted by the door opening. The administrator of the food supply in the Citadel entered the bedroom without knocking properly, but with an almost exaggeratedly heartfelt smile instead. "Your Majesty, excuse the disturbance." The man deliberately ignored someone else being in the room. He looked as if he'd run the whole way to Arwen's chambers. He dabbed his sweat-covered forehead with a cloth again and again. The festivities upcoming next had him be even more busy than usual without a doubt.

"I just want to make sure personally that the Prince and the Princess have everything they need. And you too, of course. If there's anything you wish for, just let me know. I instructed the kitchen explicitly to prepare everything that helps with your recovery, no matter how costly."

"I lack for nothing, thank you. I only need silence."

Hithrim did unfortunately not seem to be susceptible to kind subtlety; he only entered the room even further. Arwen couldn't tell if it was nervousness making his eyes dart into even the last corner repeatedly or pure curiosity since he'd never personally been to her chambers.

Finally, he stopped next to Legolas and stared at Minuial. The man was the first one to not show any stir at the sight of the girl at all; on the contrary, he seemed a bit disappointed.

"Is everything alright? Are the problems with the supplies? Do you need additional deliveries for the celebration? I'm sorry that the children and I cause more work than usual for the kitchen."

"No, no, Your Majesty, don't apologize." Hithrim immediately shook his head, defensively. "Everyone in the Citadel would work to complete exhaustion if that made you feel better. You're still looking far too weak. People are looking forward very much to be able to toast to the new life together with you soon. Actually, they're still shocked that you made it."

"Shouldn't it be the greatest joy to the people that the King's family is doing well?" Something in Hithrim's voice seemed to annoy Legolas. His own tone and expression seemed very hostile now. Probably more unconsciously, he held the baby closer to his body.

"If I wasn't worried about the Queen, I wouldn't be here, would I?" Bristling in offense, Hithrim turned away.

"I really appreciate it." The very last thing Arwen needed right now was more childish bickering between another elf and a man.

The twins would soon be hungry. Now that she could finally feed them herself, she had to take it easy if her eyes weren't supposed to fall shut while she had the babies in her arms. And she also needed as many refreshments as possible.

"If there's any dried fruit from last summer left in the pantries, I'd like to have some."

"I'll take a look immediately." But Hithrim still didn't make any move to leave. Instead, he interestedly looked into the cradle next to Arwen's bed now. This time, a smile crept onto his face. His eyes reflected a vague memory which confused Arwen. As far as she knew, the man was unmated.

"He's so small," he murmured hoarsely, caressing Eldarion's head for a moment. He was probably not even realizing that thereby, he presumed to do something not granted to many people.

"But unbelievably tough," Arwen assured as so often in the last few days. "He's already so much like the King."

Hithrim startled a little. "Oh, forgive me, I didn't mean to …" He backed away so abruptly that the movement had Eldarion wake up who became frightened and started to scream. "Yes, right. Just like the King."

Overwhelmed by Eldarion's crying that did now wake up Minuial as well and made her yell, Arwen looked back and forth between Legolas and the visitor. "Legolas, please give me the little one and try to calm Eldarion down." Even with their efforts combined though, they would need some time before the children would at least be so quiet that you could hear your own voice again.

"Please leave now, Hithrim. If there are any questions left, turn to my husband. He knows best what is most beneficial for my recovery and will also have a sympathetic ear for you and your worries anytime."

"Of course. I was really just worried about you." Hithrim briefly bowed towards her, nodded at Legolas without looking at him, and hurried away as quickly as he had entered the room.

Arwen was too busy comforting her little ones to give much thought to the encounter.