A/N: The second half of this chapter was especially hard to write this time so I hope you all like it.

Many thanks to msg839 for commenting again. I'm happy that I could provide show you a new perspective on the elves/human relationship. However I do have to admit that generally I agree with your point that they come across as very haughty :)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, setting or plots of the Silmarillion or any other related works by Tolkien.

Enjoy!

Chapter Three

374 F.A.

In deep concentration Andreth sorted the chamomile flowers and fennel leaves together. She picked up a few cranberries and ground them into a thick paste.

Her mind was pleasantly void of any of the worries and disturbing thoughts irritating her lately.

She kept a single-minded focus on her task at hand. The only thing breaking up the silence in the room was Adanel's soft humming.

The older woman laid in a large bed propped up by an abundance of pillows, an equal number of heavy blankets and furs covered her lap, barely able to hide her large stomach. She worked lovingly on the stitches of a small patchwork quilt.

Realizing that while her gaze had trailed up observing Adanel she had started neglecting her work. Andreth hastily returned to her task, preparing the herbal infusion.

She grabbed a cup and laid out a clean cloth over it. She scooped up some of the herbal paste she'd been mixing and flopped it down on top of the fabric.

With quick steps she went over to the fireplace in which a small kettle hung over the dimly glowing coals. Returning to the table with the hot water kettle she poured some into the cup, letting the water absorb the healing properties of the plants.

Finished with her task for the moment her gaze trailed back up to Adanel. She looked slightly pale, her face worryingly had thinned over the course of only a few months, even her hair seemed less bright.

Her pregnancy had been very difficult, especially during these final two months.

Her aunt had been childless for a long time so that this almost seemed like a miracle. Despite the overwhelming joy that had permitted the entire household when the pregnancy was announced Andreth couldn't help but feel an increasing sense of dread.

She had taken more and more tasks in place of her aunt, looking after the small herb garden and assisting the villagers who lived under her uncle's protection should any medical need arise.

Hesitantly Andreth tested the heat of the steaming cup in front of her. Judging the brew as finished she slowly pulled the cloth out of the cup, fringing it some last drops out of it before putting it aside and walking over to the bed.

'Adanel?', she addressed the woman carefully, 'I finished the infusion.'

The soft humming stopped. Adanel looked up and smiled. Andreth had to suppress a wince, Adanel would never openly show any worry or sorrow. She put her stitching down and took the hot cup.

'Thank you, my dear!'

'Chamomile flowers, fennel and cranberries. For the baby! I thought it would do you good.'

Adanel nodded approvingly and took a careful sip from the hot drink.

Andreth began to fiddle with the fabric of her skirt, missing a distraction after she finished her task. Nervously, she chewed on her lower lip.

While taking small interspersed sips from the cup, Adanel lowered her gaze back to the fabric she'd been working on. Affectionately she caressed the patchwork of coloured cloth with the tips of her fingers.

When she began to speak her voice was thoughtful.

'You worry a lot, Andreth.'

It wasn't a question. Andreth forced her hands to let go of her skirt and failing to keep them still she had to forcefully relax each finger separately.

'No! … I mean of course I'm worried. It won't be an easy birth but…'

Her voice had started to waver. She forcefully shut her mouth.

'I know you are still young, but you are talented and have greatly improved over the last year.'

Adanel raised her gaze back up to Andreth, looking her directly in the eyes.

'I won't lie to you. It won't be easy. But you have helped me midwife before. This won't be any different.'

'But!', Andreth immediately interrupted her, 'You were with me then! And I only helped. I'm not ready yet. What if something goes wrong and I-I don't know what to do or… freeze up!'

Adanel grabbed her hands, stopping them from shaking and softly enveloped them with her own. Her usually serene face showing concern as she said:

'No! Andreth, no. Do not think about failure before you even tried! You know everything that you need to know.'

Her face turns gentle again she reached up and cupped Andreth's cheek.

'And don't forget you won't be alone. I have to be there after all, or you won't have a baby to deliver.'

Slowly Andreth nodded, taking a deep breath she pushed the worry and fear back down.

'Now!', Adanel said suddenly cheerful again. She took her sewing back up.

'I'm still missing some fabric. Do you think you could give me something of yours?'

Andreth felt a feeling of warmth rising in her chest. It was tradition for an expecting mother to create a quilt for her child out of pieces of fabric belonging to close family.

'I'm honoured', she whispered,'I…'

'Andreth,' Adanel said admonishingly, 'You are family, related by blood. My husband's niece in fact. You have been as a daughter to me for nearly five years by now.'

Andreth couldn't help but smile widely at Adanel. She nodded fervently.

'Yes. I have a few older dresses that won't fit me anymore.'

Adanel answered her with another warm smile.

'Then go fetch them, so that we can pick a nice patch of fabric!'

Hastily Andreth spun around and hurried off to her own room, looking for her old dresses.

The bright cloth of the bed linen was stained red. The dim candlelight didn't reveal any colours; however, the dark, wet and sticky fabric left no doubt in Andreth's mind that it was soaked in blood.

Adanel's water had broken rather abruptly. She had barely finished her quilt a mere day ago. It was just as if the unborn child had sensed this and decided that this meant it was time.

Adanel's pressed screams had long since turned into hard laboured breaths.

The small wet body of the child lay heavy in Andreth's arms. She stared down at the infant. His skin was an unnatural bluish grey tint and he was terribly still. Exhaustion dimmed her vision, smudging it at the edges.

He was so silent. He was supposed to scream.

She pulled the infant closer slowly clapping his back. Trying to startle him awake.

Why was he silent?!

'Breathe, breathe, please breathe…'

Only belatedly did she realise that the desperate whispers were her own.

A sob broke the otherwise dreadful silence filling the room. Andreth's breath stuck in her throat.

Adanel. She would know what the silence meant.

No, no, no, no, no… The birth had been hard.

On multiple occasions Andreth had nearly panicked and frozen.

But in between her pain filled screams Adanel had gritted her teeth and with a voice full of authority told her what to do.

To hear her broken sobs now tore Andreth's heart to pieces.

No, no… You must breathe. You must!

'Breathe, breathe!'

Swiftly she put the still body down on the bed. Grabbing his tiny limbs, she began to rub them trying keep his heart beating, his blood flowing.

Carefully she took hold of his tiny, scrunched up face and softly bowed a flat breath inside his tiny body. Going back to rubbing his soft body she tried to keep her voice from shaking as she whispered:

'You have to breathe. Please, please…'

The beats of her heart droned on in her ears nearly deafening her. She forced herself to stay focused. No matter what she had to try.

She wouldn't accept failure before she had even tried. Her vision had become more and more blurry, the thundering in her head had become a stabbing pain.

Her heart nearly leaped out of her throat when the cries filled the room. The sudden wetness on her cheeks betrayed her tears. A strange nearly deranged laughter left her dry throat. The soft cries increased in volume, transforming into loud indignant screams.

A pair of arms reach past Andreth. Geldir quickly carefully wrapped the child into clean linen cloth and before stepping over to Adanel and giving her her son.

The screams continued to fill the room, as if now that he had found his voice, he couldn't stop using it.

In a daze she realised that she was sitting on the floor. Her tired mind needing some time to catch up with what was happening around her. Andreth looked up at Adanel.

She held her child in her arms, slowly rocking him back and forth, humming a soft melody. Her face looked tired, almost gaunt.

But her eyes!

Despite the dark skin under them and the tear streaks on her cheeks. They seemed to shine as she smiled down and cooed at her baby. His screams had started to subside as he looked up at his mother's face.

Adanel's son! Belemir must be so proud…

The loud crash of the door being thrown open interrupted Andreth's thoughts.

As if they had summoned him, her uncle stormed into the room. The noise reignited the babe's screaming.

Belemir abruptly stopped in his tracks. He stared at his wife and their child. A look of shock and wonder on his usually stern and controlled features. Adanel raised her head looking up at her husband.

'Look at him! Our son! He is beautiful!'

As if her voice had freed him from his petrified state, he rushed forward scrabbling to his wife's side a relieved laugh leaving his throat.

Andreth jumped as a hand grabbed her elbow pulling her to her feet. Looking up she saw Geldir guiding her to the door.

'Come, let me bring you to your room before you fall asleep.'

'Wait', Andreth hesitated as they reached the door.

'It's fine. I can manage the rest. You are exhausted.'

'No, wait', raising her voice she addressed the couple on the bed.

'What is his name?'

Adanel and Belemir looked both up before looking at each other.

They seemed to share an entire conversation in one single glance in the mysterious way of two people in love. They smiled. Belemir looked back up.

'Beren. His name is Beren.'

Andreth nodded smiling weakly and let Geldir lead her out of the room. The entire way back to her room seemed to pass by in a flash. Later the only thing she would recall after she had left that room was the vague memory of being tucked into bed before drifting of into a deep exhausted sleep.

Yeah baby Beren! However, don't be too excited this of course is not THE Beren, but his maternal grandfather whom he presumably was named after.

Like last time there shouldn't really be any vocabulary necessary to explain.

At this point Andreth should be around 13 years old. Adanel is 34, which by modern standards is of course no where near to old to be pregnant. However, considering the patriarchal society they are living in and the fact that she probably got married somewhere in between her late teens and early twenties, Andreth would likely think of her having been childless for a very long time.

The chamomile, fennel and cranberry infusion Andreth mixed this chapter is one of many variations of herbal teas/infusions used throughout history by pregnant women to subsidise important nutrients and vitamins.