A/N: Sorry it's been a while, I've been on vacation with family! I hope you like Nenna; there are generally not enough women in LOTR, especially when one is writing a Fellowship-centered fic.
Hope you enjoy the update! :D
Just at the edge of their camp Aragorn found a scene that would have seemed altogether ridiculous if the situation were not so serious. All four hobbits were brandishing their knives; Frodo and Merry faced off two elves who were holding Gimli's arms behind his back, and Sam and Pippin were threatening a third elf who held a bundle—my daughter, Aragorn realized with a jolt of fear and rage—in his arms. Gimli was spitting a string of foul curses in his native language as he struggled against the iron grip of his captors.
Aragorn fought down the instinct to lunge at the one holding his child—these elves were Legolas's kin, and he was in desperate need of their help. He instead raised his hands in a placating gesture.
"Lower your swords, my friends. And let the dwarf go, for pity's sake; he has done nothing wrong. This is all a misunderstanding that can be easily corrected with a civilized discussion. Depending on how 'civilized' you are willing to be," Aragorn said, with a glare in the direction of the elves who were still holding Gimli's arms tightly to his back.
The hobbits sheathed their knives, all except for Sam, who continued to hold his out threateningly.
"We were just minding our own business when they showed up, Mr. Strider," Sam said, not taking his eyes off the elf before him. "This one plucked our girl right out of Gimli's arms before we even knew they were here. Then the other two grabbed him, and then—well, that's about when you showed up."
The elf holding his daughter spoke up.
"We were patrolling our borders when we came upon this small, chattering army of little folk along with a dwarf carrying a newborn elfling, her parents out of sight. What else were we to believe but that she was stolen?"
"She was not stolen."
Aragorn turned to where the breathless voice had come from and saw Legolas standing there, leaning heavily against a tree with one hand. He had pulled his trousers back on, though his feet were still bare upon the soft leaves of the forest floor.
"She was not stolen," Legolas said again, and he began to walk toward them on unsteady legs.
"I told you to stay, Legolas, you should not be walking," Aragorn said, but Legolas ignored him, continuing to step forward.
"Legolas Thranduilion," the elf holding the child spoke with a tilt of his head. "You are welcome here."
"But not my friends," Legolas said, his tone like ice. He swayed a bit on his feet, but he put a firm hand out with a shake of his head when Aragorn went to steady him. "This dwarf has my friendship and my trust," he continued. "I asked him to look after my daughter while Aragorn treated my injuries from childbirth. Now, you will unhand him and give my child back to him or I will need to reconsider the bonds of friendship and alliance between your lands and mine."
The lead elf gave a nod to the other two, who immediately released their hold on Gimli. He stepped over to the dwarf and carefully placed the child back into his arms. With a quick glance back at Legolas, he gave a deep bow toward Gimli.
"Forgive me, elf-friend, for assuming the worst. Elf-children are precious to us. I was only concerned for the little one, that is all. I am Haldir, and these are my brothers, Rúmil and Orophin. We are wardens of the Golden Wood."
"Some wardens," Gimli muttered darkly, "Who don't know friend from foe and choose violence before reason." He was clearly trying to keep his voice low now that the still-sleeping child was back in his arms.
"Violence?" Haldir said with a wry smile. "Nay, elf-friend, if we had chosen violence, you would no longer be drawing breath."
Gimli's face darkened, and he looked ready to pounce on the elf, regardless of the child in his arms.
"That's enough," Legolas said. "I have only just recently given birth, and I am too weary to mediate the two of you through old prejudices at this moment. We are in dire need of help. My daughter is hungry, and I have no milk to feed her. Three of our company are wounded; two of the little folk you see here, and the third, a man, is sleeping just a little ways beyond the fire. Come, I will take you to him, for his wound is the most dire."
Legolas turned and began to walk back toward their campfire, and Aragorn was dismayed to see a red stain quickly growing from the seam of the elf's trousers, making its way into a thin line already halfway down one leg. Aragorn rushed toward him not a moment too soon, as seconds later Legolas's foot caught on a root hidden beneath golden leaves. He stumbled with a soft cry, and Aragorn was quick to catch him, lifting him easily into his arms before he could offer any resistance.
Aragorn turned back toward the Lothlorien wardens, the desperation clear in his voice.
"Please, he needs your help! He is still bleeding very badly from the birth."
Haldir gave one startled blink before quickly motioning his brothers over. He spoke briefly to them in elvish, his voice low. Each in turn gave Haldir a short nod, then turned and dashed away through the trees at a dead run. They were both out of sight within seconds.
Haldir turned back to Aragorn and the others, speaking once more in the common tongue. "Orophin will return soon with litters and elves to bear Legolas and your wounded. Rúmil will go on ahead to herald your coming to our Lord and Lady. I have little skill in medicine, but I have a draught that will help strengthen Legolas until we can get him to our healing halls. It is safe for his little one to drink as well. We will do what we can for you and your own, Aragorn son of Arathorn." He gave another low bow.
Aragorn looked at Haldir with surprise, but nodded gratefully.
"Estel…"
Aragorn's gaze fell back down to Legolas, who reached up and gripped his shoulder, tears trailing softly down his pale face.
"I'm sorry," Legolas whispered. "I thought I would have more time with her—with you. I—I never meant to leave you behind."
"You won't, meleth," Aragorn said, firmly, but his heart pounded with terror as the elf's eyes closed, his hand falling limply to his side.
Aragorn dropped heavily to his knees and pulled his right hand from beneath Legolas, placing it over the elf's mouth and nose. He sobbed with relief to feel the soft puffs of warm breath on his palm. Legolas still lived. Aragorn hooked his arm back under him and staggered to his feet.
Haldir and the others followed Aragorn to the oak tree where the fresh blanket lay, surrounded by the bloody cloths and Aragorn's ruined cloak—evidence of the battle that had taken place there earlier. Haldir grimaced at the sight of it.
"Alas that he was forced to labor here, away from the safety and comfort of our healing halls. If we had discovered you earlier we may have been able to ease some of his suffering," Haldir said, the remorse clear in his voice. "We had received word that nine were on their way, but we did not know that Thranduilion would be among you, much less that he was expecting a child."
Aragorn said nothing, just laid his lover's body upon the blanket, pulling the other blanket over him to keep out the winter chill. Haldir sat beside them, uncorking a small flask. Aragorn carefully lifted Legolas's head and Haldir poured a few drops of the dark liquid into his mouth, gently massaging his throat until he swallowed.
Gimli sat nearby, holding the newborn safe in his arms. Her eyes had opened and she was beginning to softly fuss, tiny fists freeing themselves from the towel she had been wrapped in.
"Take her," Haldir said, looking at Aragorn. "You will need to feed her."
At a nod from Aragorn, Gimli moved over and settled the squirming child into her father's arms.
"Use your little finger," Haldir said, pouring a small amount of the draught into the cupped palm of his hand and holding it out toward him. Aragorn dipped his little finger into liquid and then placed it on her lips. She latched on as naturally as if his finger were a mother's breast.
"She is a strong one. Just a few more drops should be enough for the journey," Haldir said softly.
The hobbits stood lingering nearby, and though Sam had finally sheathed his knife, he kept a watchful eye on the marchwarden, clearly reluctant to trust him after the events of their first meeting. Aragorn eventually looked back at them when he had finished feeding his daughter the elf-draught.
"Go on, little ones," he said, tiredly. "Get some rest, but have your things ready to move quickly when the elves arrive. Legolas is—" He paused, swallowing past a sudden lump in his throat. "—He's not doing well. The Galadhrim are the best hope for him now."
"Come on, Sam," Frodo said, softly, tugging at Sam's arm. "Let's give them some privacy."
Gimli and the other hobbits followed Frodo back to the fire, where they began preparations to leave.
It was less than a quarter of an hour before a band of eight elves appeared suddenly and silently from the darkness of the trees, bearing four litters among them. They split apart when they reached the clearing, one pair each going to Boromir, Frodo, and Sam, as if they had been assigned to them prior to their arrival. The fourth litter was carried by Orophin and an elf woman with long, black hair that was tied back and woven into many tight braids. They swiftly approached the tree where Legolas lay with Aragorn and Haldir beside him.
Haldir looked relieved to see the she-elf alongside his brother.
"Nenna! Fate is on our side this night; it is well that you were near." He turned to Aragorn. "Nestonnadril is a midwife of great skill."
The elf woman nodded in greeting as they lowered the litter to the ground.
"Mae govannen, Aragorn. I am here to help Greenleaf and his little one. You might not remember me—"
"I remember you, Nenna." Aragorn said. "Though I did not know you were a midwife."
"My skills in midwifery are required only once in a great while. It is yet rarer still for me to be called upon without warning," she said, already kneeling beside the unconscious Legolas. She pressed her hand to his forehead, then she began checking his breathing. "What can you tell me about the birth?" she asked, not looking up.
"It was long—more than a day—and he pushed for many hours before she finally came. He tore, but I have already stitched the wound." Aragorn said. He swallowed, then continued. "She was turned wrong, and her head was trapped for thirty seconds or so. She was born so pale and still, I thought she was gone." He paused, wiping at his eyes with one hand.
Nenna glanced at Aragorn and the child cradled in the crook of his left arm.
"It looks like you did a fine job reviving her," she said, kindly. Her hands shifted to Legolas's wrist, checking his pulse. "Orophin said he was still bleeding. Is it all right if we undress him?"
"Of course, whatever you need," Aragorn said. He sat very close to Legolas, watching as Nenna and Haldir lifted the blanket from his legs and then worked together to remove the bloodstained trousers.
Nenna examined Legolas's injured nether regions, then nodded.
"You did well with the stitching. The tear should heal quickly. The bleeding is coming from a deeper source. Did you save the afterbirth? It would help me a great deal if I could see it."
"It is within that cloak," Aragorn said, nodding toward the blood-stained cloak that had been dragged away from the base of the tree. "It took more than an hour for him to birth it—I had to help draw it out."
Nenna unfolded the cloak and examined the bloody organ intensely for a moment, shifting it around a bit and turning it over. She nodded, her face grave.
"It is as I feared. Some of the placenta has remained inside Greenleaf's womb. It is the cause of his bleeding. It will sour within him and make him gravely ill if it is not removed."
Aragorn swallowed.
"How will you remove it?" he softly asked.
"By hand, if I am able. But not here; not now. We must first get him to our healing halls. There are medicines and instruments I require, and we must replenish his blood first and foremost."
Aragorn grimaced, his jaw clenching.
She placed a comforting hand on Aragorn's shoulder.
"He will not feel anything. I swear this to you. Now, quickly, I must make sure the child is well before we leave."
Aragorn nodded, reluctantly settling her into the elf woman's arms. Nenna sat on her knees and laid the elfling in her lap, pressing two fingers firmly under her arm for several seconds, checking her pulse. She then unwrapped tiny feet and gently stimulated them with her fingers, smiling in approval when the elfling immediately flexed both legs and made a soft coughing sound.
"Well done, little lassig," she murmured, wrapping the child back up. "She's doing very well, all things considered, but I must insist that she stay with Greenleaf and me. She needs a proper meal as soon as possible, and I think he will be more at ease if she is kept near to him."
"You speak as if you mean to leave me behind," Aragorn said, his voice tinged with panic.
"I do," Nenna said, firmly. "Orophin and I must travel at a run if we are to save him, and you would slow us down. Haldir and the others will stay to guide you and the rest of your company."
Aragorn shook his head.
"No. No, I'm coming with you. I can keep up—"
"For a time, perhaps. But you already know that crossing the river takes men ten times longer than elves. And Legolas does not have time to spare. The best thing you can do for him is to let us take him. Now."
Aragorn could do nothing but watch helplessly as Nenna placed his daughter onto Legolas's chest, whispering, "Hold tight to her, Greenleaf." Legolas's eyes did not open, but his hands moved seemingly unconsciously from his sides to embrace his child's tiny form against his own.
Nenna counted to three then, gently lifting Legolas onto the litter with Orophin's help. Legolas was still naked beneath the blanket, still exposed and vulnerable. Still bleeding.
Aragorn reached out and brushed Legolas's hair from his face.
"I swear I'll return to you," he murmured. "Just stay alive for me, love. For both of us." He leaned forward, kissing his lover's pale brow and the curling hair of his daughter's head.
The two Galadhrim knelt and lifted the litter, Orophin at the lead. He turned and nodded at Nenna, and then they were off at a dead run, their footfalls swift, precise, and perfectly in sync with one another.
Aragorn resisted the urge to run after them, to keep pace by his lover's side as long as possible. But he was already weary from the stress and lack of sleep over the previous two days. He knew his strength would eventually fail if he tried to run with them, and he would not risk forcing them to choose between slowing their pace or leaving him exhausted and alone in the forest while they rushed to save his lover's life.
Moments after Aragorn saw them disappear into the trees, he felt a hand softly alight on his back.
"You fathered her, didn't you?" Haldir's voice held no judgment in it, only gentle concern.
Aragorn gave a quiet nod.
"Then I feel I must warn you, Aragorn: Greenleaf's father is here in Lorien. He arrived two days ago seeking the counsel of our Lord and Lady. I do not know his reason."
Aragorn looked sharply at the marchwarden, his eyes widening.
"Thranduil is in Lorien?"
Haldir nodded, hesitating slightly before speaking again.
"I have often found the Elvenking more than capable of listening to reason, but I fear when he sees his son in this state he will search for a place—or person—toward whom to direct his wrath." He gave Aragorn a meaningful look. "…It may be best if you made yourself scarce for a few days."
Aragorn shook his head.
"I am no coward. Legolas will need me by his side while he recovers; I will not be separated from him or my daughter any longer than is necessary. So, please, Haldir. Lead us there as quickly as you can."
A/N: Thank you so much for reading, and please let me know your thoughts and predictions!