I'm writing this story; however, until I finish "Reasons to Hope, Reasons to Live," I won't update it regularly.
This story is edited by Grammarly.

Warning: Slash, Male Pregnancy, and Major Character Death

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Chapter One: A Blooming Dawn, A Fading Light

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The first day of spring in Minas Tirith was gently giving way to night, but the day's warmth still lingered. The sky above was a velvet canvas streaked with the last rays of the setting sun. Their light glinted off the stone walls and towers of the White City while a gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying the fragrance of budding flowers from the lower gardens. The world seemed to hold its breath, filled with the promise of new life, a feeling that touched every corner of the city.

Yet, within the royal quarters, a heavy tension filled the air. King Elessar paced the stone floor, his steps echoing in the quiet room. His beloved Prince Legolas, the Prince Consort, had gone into labour hours ago, and still, no news had come. Aragorn's heart, usually so steady, was gripped by fear—fear for his husband and their child. The quiet beyond the closed door only deepened his anxiety. He was certain Legolas, in his Elven pride, was silently enduring the pain, refusing to show weakness. But that same pride had forced Aragorn to wait outside, helpless.

Faramir stood nearby, watching the king with quiet sympathy. A week ago, he had paced these same halls as Éowyn gave birth to their son, Elboron. Now, seeing Aragorn—so often unshakable—brought low by fear, Faramir could only offer silent support.

Aragorn stopped by the open window, staring out at the fading light. His heart pounded with every breath, his mind conjuring images of disaster. The dangers of childbirth, especially for an immortal Elf, filled him with dread. The hours stretched on, and the silence from the birthing chamber felt like a weight crushing his soul.

Suddenly, a faint cry pierced the air—a newborn's first breath. Aragorn's heart leapt, hope and joy flooding him for an instant. Their child was born!

"Congratulations, Your Majesty," Faramir said with a smile, sharing in the moment of joy.

Aragorn, unable to contain his relief, returned the smile.

"Thank you, Faramir."

"Go to them, my lord," Faramir urged.

Aragorn moved toward the door, expecting a healer to emerge. But when none came, he knocked and called out.

"Adar! How is—"

"He's bleeding!" Elrond's voice rang out, sharp and urgent, cutting through Aragorn's happiness like a blade. "Quickly, lift his hips! Prepare the tea of Shepherd's Purse!"

Aragorn froze, the joy draining from his heart. He pushed open the door and saw Elrond and the healers frantically working around Legolas, who lay pale and trembling on the bed.

"Adar, what's happening?" Aragorn asked, rushing to his father's side, his voice tight with fear as he noticed the blood staining the sheets beneath Legolas. The sight of Legolas so weak shattered him in a way no battlefield ever had.

"There has been a complication," Elrond said, his hands moving swiftly to control the bleeding. "Your son is healthy, but Legolas is bleeding heavily."

Aragorn's gaze flicked to the small bundle nearby; his son swaddled in soft blankets. The baby that had brought so much joy now became the cause of unimaginable fear.

"Please, save him," Aragorn pleaded, his voice raw. "Do whatever it takes."

"We are trying, Estel," Elrond replied. "But you must be by his side."

Aragorn turned to Legolas, whose face was etched with exhaustion. A faint, reassuring smile touched his lips as his eyes fluttered open, though even that seemed to drain him. Aragorn sat beside him, taking his cold hand in his own.

"Legolas," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from his husband's face. "Our son is here. He is healthy. You've done it."

Legolas' eyelids fluttered, but he was too weak to respond. Aragorn's grip tightened around his hand, his heart breaking.

The healer approached, holding the child.

"Here is your son, my Lord."

"I want... to hold him," Legolas whispered, his voice faint but filled with longing.

With a nod, Aragorn gently lifted Legolas against his chest, supporting him as the healer placed their child in his lap. Aragorn wrapped his arms around him, supporting his weak hold on the baby. Legolas gazed down at their son, his face softening with awe and love. Tears welled in his eyes as he traced the baby's features with trembling fingers.

"He's perfect," Legolas whispered, barely audible. "Our son."

Aragorn held them both close, feeling the bittersweet joy of the moment. Yet the dread gnawing at his heart remained. Legolas was fading before his eyes, and he was helpless to stop it.

"Adar!" Aragorn called quietly, not wanting to alarm Legolas but filled with urgency. Elrond's grave expression told him all he needed to know.

Legolas' breathing became laboured, his strength slipping away. His grip on the child tightened.

"Name him," Legolas whispered, his eyes pleading. "I want to hear... his name."

Aragorn's heart clenched. "We will, as soon as you're well," he said, his voice breaking.

"Now," Legolas insisted, his voice weakening. "Please, Estel."

Aragorn hesitated, his chest tight with fear. But he relented at the sight of Legolas' beautiful, pleading blue eyes.

"Eldarion," he whispered. "His name is Eldarion."

A soft smile touched Legolas' lips.

"Eldarion... it's perfect," he whispered.

Aragorn kissed the top of his head, holding him closer. But even as Legolas gazed at their child, his breathing grew shallower.

"I... love you," Legolas murmured, his voice barely a breath. "Take care of... our son."

"Don't say that," Aragorn's voice wavered his warrior's heart breaking. "You will be fine. We'll raise him together."

Legolas' fingers trembled as they caressed Aragorn's cheek, a final gesture of love. His eyes fluttered shut, and with one last breath, the light left him on his husband's chest.

"Legolas?" Aragorn's voice broke, his hands shaking as he held his husband's lifeless body. "Legolas!"

Elrond placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice filled with sorrow.

"He is at peace now, Aragorn."

Aragorn's world collapsed around him as he cradled Legolas and their son. Outside, spring had come to Minas Tirith, but in Aragorn's heart, winter had returned. Eldarion let out a soft cry, a desperate sound in the quiet room, as if he, too, felt the sorrow that now surrounded them. Aragorn kissed Legolas' blond hair, tears falling silently as he inhaled his husband's fading scent.

"I will take care of him, my love," he whispered. "He will know how much you loved him."

Night had fallen outside, but within Aragorn, the light had dimmed forever.

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To Be Continued...

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What do you think?