"Every good and perfect gift

is from above,

Coming down from the Father of lights;"

(James 1:17)

Aragorn had been so preoccupied lately with rumors grabbing his attention about troubles in other lands. The sick horses he had received a while back, suspecting sabotage, had proved to be in tip top condition when he'd first seen them. The healers and horsemen learned from the blood samples and the horses' vomiting that they had all ingested faint traces of Irismilate in their nourishment.

Aragorn had been stunned. Irismilate had been banished from regular use centuries ago. It was so potent that healers considered it more dangerous than helpful for the sick. Why would someone do that to innocent horses? Aragorn remembered having a horrible thought when he'd first learned this: the last person he'd known of to use that illegal drug had been Vincent Merlyn! His former captor, tormentor, and usurper who had tried to eliminate him and take the throne of Gondor for himself.

No! It couldn't possibly be him. He was in Harad, serving time through hard, grueling labor, unable to escape. There was no way he could have that kind of freedom to cause Aragorn more trouble. Aragorn tried to comfort himself with that thought, but the mere idea had scared him to his core.

That had been 8 months ago. And in that time, nothing disturbing had occurred. Until now. Aragorn was receiving reports that riots were rising in the south, at the coast where ships traveled to the Umbar and Harad. He heard that the people from those continents were speaking of war again. Aragorn could not believe that. They had been at peace for four years since after the War of the Ring, and Aragorn could not recall any misdeeds, intentional or not, that he had committed to stir up such rebellion against his neighbors.

Then, more reports filed in that villages south of Gondor were suffering sudden losses of their best horses. One day they would all be there, and then the next? The strongest steeds would be vanished. The officers would trail them as far as they could until it went cold. Aragorn was struggling to piece this together. It was clear that whoever was doing this either had a thing for horses, or they were crucial to the rest of the crime. What could it be? This wasn't good! Someone, somewhere, was stirring up trouble under his nose again. But who? And why?

Aragorn decided he must write to Legolas, Gimli, Faramir, and Eomer about this, and see if they had any logical, not so frightening theories to offer.

Aragorn had just sent messengers to Ithilien and Rohan to summon his trusted friends. Now, he was looking for his wife. He found her in their private garden. He stopped and leaned against the door-frame, wanting to study every part of her in the sunlight.

Alasse was slowly waddling around the flower bushes, one hand on her large middle, and the other caressing the blossoms. Alasse was speaking to the baby, telling the child about the different flowers, their names, meanings, and purposes.

Aragorn soaked in the sight. Her inner Elven glow had been the brightest he'd ever seen. She looked more tired than he was accustomed to, but she looked so, so happy. Her smile was much sweeter these days, when she smiled. If she wasn't going through those horrible hormones that came along with pregnancy, she seemed to be floating on air in anticipation for their baby to come into the world. He could tell by her voice that right now she was in a good mood.

His eyes roved over her extended stomach. It was so wondrous to think that was where their child was growing, and she was carrying him or her inside her every day, feeding and nurturing so they would have a blessed beginning. He also loved the feel of her now firm, circular waist under his hands.

Alasse stopped and caught him smiling wistfully at her. "What?" She asked sheepishly.

"You look breathtaking." Aragorn grinned widely.

"Oh." Alasse blushed, looking down. "I feel like an overloaded basket of laundry." She remarked.

"And being put to good use." Aragorn said cheekily as he stepped over to her.

"Hmph." Alasse sighed. Aragorn kissed behind her ear and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'm almost too large and rounded for you to hug." She said.

"Never!" Aragorn scolded. "I like hugging you this way." He rested his palms on the middle of her stomach. "Feels like I get to love an extra part of you." He whispered.

"You are." Alasse said, slight tears falling down her face.

"Why the sad face, my love?" Aragorn asked.

"I do not know. I am so happy, Aragorn. But then I feel so sad at the same time."

"Right now, I think I can understand that." Aragorn rested his chin on her shoulder.

"How? Do you know what it feels like, having another whole human being inside you?" Alasse asked.

"Well...no." Aragorn shrugged.

"I'm a bit tired. But I do not wish to go inside just yet."

"Come." Aragorn said. He gingerly helped her sit down on the ground. Then he sat beside her with his legs splayed out. He patted the skirt of his tunic and pulled her forward then gently lowered her head and upper back into his lap. "How's that?" He asked.

"Mmm. Wonderful!" Alasse inhaled, closing her eyes. Aragorn ran his fingers through her wavy, silky hair.

"Take a rest, darling." Aragorn suggested.

"But you..."

"I've had my fill for now. Believe me, right now the best thing I can do is wait for a response for my inquiries."

"I do like the feel of you all around me," Alasse said with a gleam in her eyes.

"I can extend that invitation." Aragorn said enticingly.

"Not now. I wish to rest." Alasse said. Aragorn nodded. Alasse was beginning to fall into Elven dreams when her head jolted and she gasped.

"What? What is it?" Aragorn asked worriedly.

"The baby's kicking again." Alasse beamed. Aragorn smiled proudly as his wife guided his hand to the spot on her big tummy. Aragorn chuckled as he felt the baby move inside her. "That startled me!" Alasse laughed.

"I can imagine." Aragorn said. "I have a feeling our child is going to take too much after their Uncle Legolas. So active, and needing to be moving so much."

"Well, let's just hope our baby has enough sense to know when to slow down."

"With Thranduil's blood in their veins? You're joking, right?" Aragorn teased. Alasse snorted then brought his hand to her lower right side where the baby had switched directions.

"The baby has your blood too. Let's hope some of the good sense rubs off." Alasse smirked.

"You know? I think that's the nicest thing you've said to me in a long time, my love." Aragorn said. Alasse beckoned with her finger and hovered over and lightly kissed her lips. She breathed deeply, smiling brightly. Then he lovingly rubbed her stomach all around. The gesture was incredibly soothing. Soon, Alasse was asleep and Aragorn just watched her contentedly.

For a good two hours, he'd forgotten about the pressing, potential dangers out there as he thought of his wife and child. He felt his spirit renewed. That was why he hadn't told her about the troubles. She had enough to worry about, delivering the baby and he didn't want to burden her with more things to be afraid of. He wanted Alasse to stay just like this. He continued to massage her belly and listen to the birds and other noises of life around them.