In my waking dreams, Thranduil and I returned to the hut where we had spent the days following our marriage ceremony. He took my hand and led me through deep drifts of snow, stopping only to slap my hand away from plucking ripe berries from the bushes that surrounded us.
"You know better," he admonished.
"But I am hungry," I whined.
"It is not much further, my sweet."
Soon enough, we arrived at the little river, which was still running despite the freezing cold.
"Here we are!" Thranduil said. "Now it is time for your bath!"
"My what!" I squawked as he picked me up and positively threw me into the water. But it wasn't cold – it was as warm as a summer's day. I tried to pull myself out of the river with the intention to show the extent of my displeasure to the king, but my vision was already fading.
I sat bolt upright in bed. There was no question as to why being wet had entered my dreaming. I pulled back the thick, newly woven covers of our bed and cursed. Midwinter's Day was four days away, but it seemed that my sons, (though at this point I might give Thranduil more credit for their behavior), would not wait to make their appearance.
I turned to wake up said father, but found myself to be alone in bed. I almost began to panic at his absence, but before my heart could speed up, I heard him saying my name from his chair by the fireplace.
"Are you alright?" Thranduil asked in concern, lowering a packet of papers that he must have been reading.
"Huh!" My voice was higher pitched than normal, and I could not find the words to tell him exactly what was happened. A small squeak came out of my mouth, and in conjunction with my wide eyes, he got the idea.
I had never seen Thranduil move so fast - he was by my side before I had taken another breath. His eyes were wild. "Tell me what I need to do to make you comfortable!" he insisted, alternating quickly between holding my hands, stroking my hair, and grasping my shoulders.
"You may calm down," I told him, swinging my legs over to stand up. "There is nothing terribly complicated to do, my body knows how to birth."
Thranduil held my arm gently as I paced the room for the next hours. It was a mild pain, nothing compared to what I had heard of the births of other races, and I was easily able to focus on the thoughtful words of encouragement from the king, who did not cease his tender ministrations for a moment. Between contractions, he sat me in a chair and massaged my shoulders and back forcefully, which made the experience all the sweeter.
When I was ready, we made our way back to the bed where I lay on my side and Thranduil held my leg, and I pushed.* I could feel the infant's body making its descent out of my womb and into the world, and with a final grunt from me, I heard Thranduil gasp.
"A caul-child!" he informed me, letting go of my leg. I rested while Thranduil fetched a small knife to free the baby from the sac. He wrapped the baby in a soft blanket and laid the child near my head, and I could not stop myself from reaching over to hug my new baby tightly and kiss his wet nose.
"A boy?" I asked.
"Yes," Thranduil affirmed.
It was only a few minutes before the second body made its appearance. This one was not in the caul – his waters must have been the ones staining my sheets. Thranduil cleaned him up as well, and soon I was sitting up and holding a form in each arm – one squirming, the other sleeping.
"Well," Thranduil said, leaning over to kiss me on the forehead. "You have done well."
"Thank you," I turned my face so that he could kiss me again, more easily. "I hope you are happy with your pair of princes. Take this one," I passed him the squirming child, the eldest.
I had not often seen such happiness in my husband's face. He smiled at the baby and make silly noises, but the child was not amused, and continued his thrashing.
"This one is Belegorn," Thranduil announced. "He will be my heir."
"Very well," I said, stroking the cheeks of the sleeping babe that I held. "And this one?"
The king considered for a moment, eyes still on baby Belegorn. "Legolas," he finally said.
Legolas had a thatch of golden hair atop his head, and I ran my fingers through the soft fuzz. After a few moments we switched sons, and I held the feisty Belegorn, whose coloring matched mine – darker than Thranduil and Legolas's with much stronger features. I do not know why, but I recalled from memory the visit of Airwendil, and I could not stop myself from wondering if Belegorn looked at all like my own father. Had my mother held me as tightly as I was holding my son now? Or had she been ashamed, and asked for me to be sent away?
Our sons both began to make cries of hunger, and I banished the bitter thoughts from my mind. I had to be here now, for Belegorn and Legolas. I hastily wiped away my own building tears, and began to feed my sons. My sons! I had children. And what did I know of being a mother? Perhaps for now – the smacking noises they made as they fed reassured me that this was enough, for now.
We presented the new princes to all the elves on Midwinter's Day to set off the normally boisterous celebrations, which were only more riotous for excitement of the births. Both princes were dressed in rich, wine-colored brocades, and Thranduil held Belegorn while I cradled Legolas for the crowds to catch a glimpse. Legolas was, of course, sleeping right through the noise, but Belegorn waved his little fists in annoyance, and I saw his lips pout out in unhappiness.
"He does not seem to like parties, even when he is a guest of honor," I whispered to Thranduil, nodding towards Belegorn. "He must have inherited that trait from you."
Thranduil almost rolled his eyes at me, but caught himself just in time. His carefully controlled mask of serenity took over as we sat in a pair of makeshift thrones at a small table just for our family. "Well, Legolas must take after you then, if he cannot stand stress and removes himself without consulting others."
I glared at him, taking a sip of wine to quench my increasing thirst. "Very smooth. Now, may I take the two infants and my meal to our rooms, as we still have several days of rest on the books?"
Thranduil smiled, and even elected to accompany us away from the celebrations as he still held Belegorn, who has not ceased his fussing for a moment. "I wish I could stay," the king said, mournful as Legolas was put in his cradle and I took Belegorn, whose wails began to rise in volume as he smelled his own supper.
"You have duties," I reminded him, sitting in a cushy chair near the fire.
"And don't you forget yours!" Thranduil gave me a reprimanding look as he began to exit the room. "I expect you back at my council table soon – and don't you take this time to fill your mind with insane ideas! I don't want to hear anything about setting up trade routes with Angmar."
He won that round with his timely exit, and I could only stare at the back end of his robes as the door shut behind him.
"Your father believes me to be an over-bearing ninny," I informed Belegorn, who was now suckling vigorously. "I only hope that I am allowed enough time to raise you into the same. He needs a dose of opposition in his reign."
*The fëa were tenacious and therefore of life far excelled spirits of Men in [body], even from the first days protecting their bodies from many ills...and healing them swiftly of injuries. (The History of Middle Earth vol 12. "Laws and Customs of the Eldar"). It is for the following reasons that I have chosen for there to be no healer present for the birthing: 1) It can be assumed that Elves carry no risk of such complications during birth, such as hemorrhaging, so the need for immediate emergency action is nil. (2) The great control that the fëa (spirit) has over the hröa (body) implies that birthing, being natural, is of no significant fear to Elves as it is to us humans, who anticipate both pain and complications. Since the fëa has nearly complete control over the hröa, I personally assume that Elves can easily choose to ignore certain instances of pain. (3) Elves are trained in healing, so even if it there was a possibility for some sort of action to be necessary, Thranduil could take the needed measures. In conclusion, if there is no risk of death or other problems for the mother or child and since the mother's hrondo will be in control, there is no reason for a healer with redundant abilities to intrude on what would undoubtedly be an extremely intimate moment for husband and wife.