A/N: Be advised, it gets more graphic from here on out. The whump is strong and lasting. (No character death though.)

Pippin was sitting on one of the tree's large roots, speaking animatedly when Aragorn made his way back over to them.

"And then the Proudfoot says 'Nothing important, sir, I just went to the pub up the road to see if I could do it first!'" Pippin said, a twinkle in his eye.

Legolas laughed with delight, and Aragorn suddenly realized how much he'd missed that sound these last few weeks.

"You were right, I haven't heard that one before," Legolas said with a smile.

"It's me Da's favorite one to tell. Always claims it's a true story, the silly old fool. Oh, hello Strider!"

Aragorn nodded in greeting and took a seat beside Legolas, who smiled at him before tilting his head to rest it on his shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" Aragorn murmured.

"Not well," Legolas said, one hand rubbing the taut shape of his lower belly, "but Pippin's presence has been a welcome distraction." He looked at the young hobbit, who gave him a shy smile. "Thank you for staying with me. Go on now and join your friends. I'd rather you not have to watch me struggle through what lies ahead."

Pippin gave a quick nod and scurried away to rejoin the others as they tended to the fire. The stew was ready by then, and Aragorn saw Gimli fill two bowls and carry them over to where Boromir was resting.

"Are you hungry?" Aragorn asked.

Legolas shook his head, grimacing.

"That's all right," Aragorn said, quickly. "You don't have to eat if you don't want to." He had assumed the elf probably wouldn't accept any food. He didn't feel like eating either; the tight knot of worry in his stomach had yet to loosen at all.

"How are the others doing?" Legolas asked.

"Better, though Frodo was hurt more badly than I had expected. I think I was able to ease his pain some, but he will probably be sore for a few days."

"And Boromir? Sam?"

"Bandaged, resting, and awaiting good news."

"I hope not to disappoint," Legolas said, and Aragorn could hear a note of despair in his voice.

"You won't," Aragorn said, firmly.

Legolas nodded, his breathing suddenly quickening. He gripped Aragorn's arm tightly.

"Ai, they are coming faster now—I need to push. Can you check to see if anything is happening?"

Aragorn scrambled to the space across from Legolas, lifting the blanket to his knees once again. Legolas cried out this time as he bore down, but still Aragorn could see nothing.

"I think there may be something wrong." Legolas's earlier words echoed in his mind.

Aragorn began to silently pray.

The piercing cry rent the chill air of the early evening.

Gimli gave a worried glance in the direction of the great oak tree, then reached down to pull the blanket up and around the sleeping man's shoulders, hoping it would be enough to keep out the cold.

Aragorn had asked him to come and help with Legolas once Boromir was settled, and Gimli found that he was dreading the very thought of it. He was aware of the basic…mechanics of childbirth, but he had certainly never seen it firsthand, elf, dwarf or otherwise. Furthermore, while he had no love for elfkind, Gimli had to admit that his initial feelings toward Legolas had quickly transformed from distrust to grudging respect to outright fondness in the short time he had known him. And Gimli hated to see his friends in pain.

Another cry echoed through the clearing, and Gimli swallowed, checking once more that Boromir was well and truly asleep. He stood and made his way over to the fire, deciding to check on the hobbits once more before going to assist the laboring elf.

They were busy boiling more water and cleaning out used pots when he approached. Pippin had just received his bowl of stew, though he didn't seem to be doing much more than pushing it around with his spoon.

"It's taking so long," the young hobbit said. "When Aragorn said the babe was coming, I thought he meant any moment."

"Bairns don't just spring forth in mere moments, lad," Gimli said, though not unkindly. "They require a bit more effort than that."

"I know that, I just…" Pippin shook his head, looking back down at his stew and stirring it around some more.

"How did he seem earlier, Pip?" Merry asked, looking up from the pot he was scrubbing. "You were alone with him for a good while."

"He was hurting, that much was plain. He asked me to tell him about the Shire; I think he needed the distraction," Pippin said. He suddenly brightened a bit. "Oh! And he seemed to like my pub joke! The one about the Proudfoot's drinking prowess. Said he'd never heard it before."

"Oh, aye, that is a good one," Merry said. "I don't suppose elves know many proper pub jokes."

"Their time is occupied with more important things, I should think," Frodo said.

"What could be more important than the finer things in life?" Merry said, shaking his head. "All those years of life and they never learn the value of a good pub joke. I almost feel sorry for them."

"Don't suppose they need any help, do you?" Sam asked, nervously. "It's only the two of them, after all."

"Well, soon to be three," Pippin half-heartedly quipped.

"Aragorn knows more of the healing arts than any of us," Merry said. "I'm sure he has things under control."

Frodo looked back toward the large tree, his brows knit with worry.

"It is one thing to treat a companion's wounds in the aftermath of a battle. It is another thing entirely to assist your lover in delivering your own child," he said.

Sam nodded in agreement. "He told Mr. Frodo and me that he was scared—I didn't think Strider was afraid of anything until he said that. I'd go over there and help myself if I didn't think I'd be in the way—Mr. Gimli? Where are you going?"

Gimli paused mid-stride to glance quickly back at Sam and the others.

"I'm going to help them, of course," he said.

"The child is stuck fast," Legolas gasped. "It's as if she were wedged against my very bones." He gave another desperate heave. "W—what do you see?"

"Very little," Aragorn said. "There is something pressing outward, but it still cannot be seen."

"Then feel for it," Legolas demanded, his voice strained with pain.

Aragorn grit his teeth and reached a hand between the elf's legs, pressing gently beyond the pouting lips of his opening. What he felt had his heart dropping even deeper into the pit of his stomach. Soft, tiny feet tucked up tightly against something that was certainly not a head.

"Well? Is the head close?" Legolas asked. "Ah! It must be close, it has rent me nearly in two—speak Estel, you are frightening me!" He reached his hand out toward Aragorn, fingers splayed in panic.

"Shh, be still meleth, it will be all right," Aragorn said, taking the outstretched hand and squeezing it comfortingly. He had been trying to decide whether it would be better to keep his discovery from Legolas to avoid causing him more terror and anguish. But the thought of lying to Legolas, especially regarding the wellbeing of their unborn child, sickened him. He took a deep breath and spoke again.

"It seems our little one has decided to be born bottom-first with her knees bent," he said, gently.

Whatever reaction he had been expecting, it certainly wasn't the short bark of a laugh that left Legolas's lips.

"That explains quite a lot," the elf said, dropping his head back and pressing his other hand over his eyes in frustration.

"Indeed, it does," Aragorn agreed. "I am sure her position is the reason your labor has lasted so long."

"Stubborn little thing, isn't she?"

"Nearly as stubborn as you."

"Who's stubborn?" Gimli asked, stepping over the root to join them.

"Elves—particularly this one," Aragorn said with a relieved smile. "I wasn't sure you were coming."

"To be honest, a small part of me was hoping the child would arrive before I got here," Gimli admitted.

"No such luck," Legolas said through gritted teeth. "We didn't want to deprive you of the pleasure."

"Thank you for coming, Gimli, we are truly grateful," Aragorn said quickly, with an anxious glance in the elf's direction. "I'm sure you'll forgive Legolas if his words have a bit of…spice to them right now."

"Of course," Gimli said, graciously. "What did you need me to do?"

"Simply put, I need you by his side, where I cannot be," Aragorn said. "I need to assist with the delivery of the child, which will make it difficult for me to offer Legolas the support that he desperately needs. Comfort him, breathe with him—anything you can think of that might help him in his time of need. I understand that this is no small task, but I beg it of you."

Gimli nodded, determined—and a little relieved, if he was being honest.

"I can do that," he said, already taking a seat beside Legolas.

Gimli wondered what his father would think if he could see him now. He certainly never thought he'd find himself friendly with an elf, much less assisting one in childbirth. Yet here he was sitting beside the son of his father's captor, toweling sweat from the laboring elf's forehead and speaking gentle encouragements in his ear.

Aragorn was kneeling across from them, his gaze fixed on what was happening beneath the blanket held just over Legolas's knees.

The light conversation they had kept up between the contractions had slowly faded to a tense silence as the situation began to take on a more frantic, desperate tone. How long had it been? Legolas had already been pushing when they first made camp, not to mention the several hours of travel he had endured while dealing with contractions that had brought him to his knees while still in Moria. That meant he'd been in labor for at least a day, and with no rest. He hadn't even slept the previous evening—none of them had; it had taken the entire night to find their way out of the mountain.

It was now well over an hour since Gimli had come over to assist them, and Legolas had been pushing with every contraction. Elf or not, it was clear that he was tiring, exhausted by his long labor, lack of sleep, and the vital work he was now doing to birth his daughter.

Aragorn looked up when Legolas's breathing began to accelerate once more.

"Push," Aragorn instructed again. His tone had begun to take on a forceful, desperate edge.

Legolas curled forward again at Aragorn's command, straining with a soft grunt of effort. His left hand tugged on his thigh, while his right rested at the base of his belly. He didn't hold this push nearly as long as the previous ones. He uncurled and fell back against the tree—striking the back of his head none-too-gently—and released his breath with a loud huff.

"Careful, lad," Gimli said, pressing his own hand between the elf's head and the tree he was propped up against. "Can't have you harming the poor tree with that hard head of yours."

His light words coaxed a small smile to the elf's lips, though it fled quickly as the current pain reached its peak.

"Push, Legolas," Aragorn said again. "Now, before you lose the contraction. Push."

Legolas whimpered in response, but did his best to obey, curling forward again. This push lasted barely a few seconds before he gave up, shaking his head in frustration and flinging droplets of sweat from his face. The dwarf's hand cushioned his head this time as he fell back heavily against the tree. Gimli looked at Aragorn, trying to catch his attention, but the ranger was focused on what was happening between the elf's trembling thighs.

"Keep breathing, lad," Gimli murmured, still eyeing Aragorn, whose jaw was clenched tightly, a look of grim determination on his face. "Nice, steady breaths now. You're nearly there." He didn't actually know how much or how little progress Legolas had made, but it seemed the right thing to say all the same.

Legolas released a sudden, sharp cry when his pain peaked again, and he gave another short, feeble push before he fell back, his face now wet with both sweat and tears of pain. Gimli gently wiped his face again with the damp cloth.

"Don't waste this pain. Keep pushing," Aragorn commanded. "Don't stop. Push. Push!"

"Enough, Aragorn!" Gimli cried, surprising even himself. "Give the lad a break. You're driving him like some poor pack animal!"

Aragorn looked sharply up at Gimli, and the dwarf was surprised to see terror in those eyes. Something was wrong, something that Aragorn knew but had not shared with him yet.

"Come here, Gimli," Aragorn said, softly. Gimli gave him a curious look, then carefully laid Legolas's head against the bark of the tree before shuffling over to Aragorn's side. Aragorn nodded toward the space between the elf's legs. Gimli felt his blood run cold. He had hoped the child was nearly out, with the way Legolas had been pushing near constantly for the past hour.

The strained flesh between his legs bulged terribly, but there was nothing yet to be seen. A moment later Legolas made a low, straining sound, and the bulge grew, lips parting around—something. It certainly wasn't a head Gimli saw pressing through the small opening there. Squinting more closely in the fading light of the setting sun, he thought he could see tiny, tightly curled toes. He looked back at Aragorn, suddenly understanding his fear.

"It's the wrong way round," Gimli whispered. Aragorn nodded. "What if he can't—"

"He can. He will. But he needs to push. There is no other way."

Legolas gave a frustrated groan, the tension leaving his body once again. Gimli watched as the bottom of the child receded back and out of sight.

"How long has it been like this?" he asked, feeling sick. Aragorn gave him a grave look.

"Since before you came to assist. Two hours, perhaps."

Gimli shook his head, keeping his voice low. "The poor lad has labored without rest for far too long. His strength will not last. Not at this rate."

"This 'poor lad' has lived twenty-one of your lifetimes, and he can hear you discussing his fate in your hushed whispers," Legolas said, his voice soft but his tone biting.

Gimli reddened a bit, looking at Legolas in surprise. He had forgotten how sharp the elf's senses were. Aragorn quietly got up and moved over to Legolas's side, leaning his own back against the great tree and pressing his arm behind the elf. Legolas's anger seemed to fade into sorrow as he leaned, softly weeping, into Aragorn, who wrapped both arms around him.

"Forgive me, love," Aragorn said. "I've been letting my fear get the better of me, and I have pushed you too hard. It will not happen again. Take a rest now, if you can."

"More easily said than done," Legolas muttered. "My body demands that my daughter be born straight away, yet I have not the strength to meet that demand. Believe me, I have been pushing as hard as I can."

"Indeed, you have been working hard. Don't push for a little while. Pant through the pains. We can try again once you are rested."

"Rested!" Legolas said with a bitter laugh. "If only my body would allow it." He looked back at Gimli. "I am sorry, my friend. You have been nothing but kind and selfless while supporting me in my labor, and I have repaid you with harsh words."

"It's all right," Gimli said, quickly. "Far harsher words have been spoken in pain."

They spent the next quarter of an hour in a calm silence while Legolas attempted to gather his strength again. Aragorn seemed both relieved and anxious to be spending time by the elf's side rather than across from him, knowing that any moment he would need to move again.

Gimli knelt nearby, feeling distinctly out of place now that he had no clear role to play. He nearly jumped in surprise when Legolas finally spoke once more.

"I'm ready to try pushing again; go on and see if I manage to move her down a bit further."

Aragorn hesitated a moment, but Legolas gave him a light shove with his hand.

"Go on," he insisted. "The pain is mounting—ah!"

Aragorn quickly moved back to Gimli's side, folding the blanket a bit further back behind Legolas's knees so he could see better. Gimli shifted awkwardly out of the way, feeling even more out of place than before. Legolas's sharp cry transformed into a deep moan of effort, and Gimli craned his neck to see what was happening between the elf's legs. The child's feet and bottom came—and went.

Aragorn looked at Gimli and gestured for him to move back to Legolas's side. Gimli quickly obliged, and he placed his hand lightly on Legolas's shoulder, hoping his physical presence would be at least a small amount of comfort. Legolas did not react to the touch; his eyes were shut and his face was tight with pain as he leaned forward into another push.

Gimli noticed with surprise that the side of the tree Legolas had been leaning against was now covered in a thick layer of bright green moss that he was sure hadn't been there a few minutes ago. Not only that, but Gimli could have sworn the angle and shape of the tree's slope had shifted slightly. When Legolas fell back against it, it seemed to gently cradle his head, shoulders, and back, as if the oak itself was sympathetic to his struggle and was trying to offer the only comfort it could.

Gimli had heard of the close relationship between elves and the forests they inhabited, but he had never truly believed the tales of trees displaying such sentient—not to mention compassionate—behavior. He reached out and brushed his hand over the soft moss and spoke a word of thanks in elvish—one of the few phrases he had picked up in his visit to Rivendell.

Legolas glanced at Gimli in surprise, then gave a small knowing smile, reaching back and running his own hand over the thick cushion of fresh moss behind his head.

"She is a mother," Legolas said after a moment. "She understands what is happening and wishes to help."

"She is very kind," Gimli said, and a part of him knew how ridiculous it would have sounded to him a day or even an hour ago, but it seemed such a natural thing to observe now.

"She is," Legolas agreed. More tears spilled from his eyes when he shut them again. "Ai, but this pain is relentless," he murmured, curling forward and giving a good, long push. Moments later he was panting again, and he said something between gasps that Gimli couldn't make out.

"What was that?" Aragorn asked from his place opposite Legolas.

"This isn't working," Legolas said, raising his head and meeting Aragorn's eyes. "I cannot get her out."

A/N: Sorry it's been nearly a week, but I struggled to find time to edit this chapter! (And when I had time time I got distracted adding to other chapters.)

Hope you enjoyed! I really love hearing those predictions! :D