Legolas dropped the tools with a clatter and sucked in a breath with a hiss. Gimli looked up from his work and the wince on the elf’s face alarmed him. Legolas took a measured breath and another, a hand pressed to his abdomen. The other hand reached for the wall to steady himself but missed, finding instead a dwarf’s shoulder.

Gimli gently held him up, noting the wild panic in his eyes, patiently waiting for his to calm down. “Only ten months. This is too early.”

Legolas simply nodded, unable to speak over the pain.

“You need to get to Aragorn.”

Legolas started to walk up the hill, knowing dwarf eyes were upon him. There were at least four pairs, their owners all working on the doors to Minas Tirith. He heard other tools drop to the cobbled street and Gimli address his fellows.

“Elves," he noted quietly. "They never know when to stop work.”

“Shall I send for a wagon, my lord?”

“I don’t think there’s time for that, Dorin,” Gimli said, as he noticed Legolas had stopped, leaning heavily against the wall nearby. “Take the horse and get the king. Hurry!”

Gimli quietly took the elf’s hand in his. Legolas was taking long, thick breaths, seemingly relaxed except that his brow was creased and his grip strong. The horse had long since vanished from sight and earshot before Legolas tried to speak.

“Take your time, lad,” Gimli told him.

“I am not going to make it to the palace, Gimli,” he said.

Gimli cast his eyes about him and noted the guardhouse. At that time of day, it was empty. “Just make it as far as the guardhouse,” he coaxed.

Legolas looked up and nodded. He had barely taken five steps before he was forced to stop. His legs buckled, but his hands met the solid shoulders of the dwarf. Struggling to maintain control, he closed his eyes and shut out the world.

“Stay with me, elf,” Gimli spoke up, knowing that he was close to passing out. Legolas opened his eyes and looked down at him. “That’s it,” the soft tones came to him. “Lean on me. Breathe.”

For the first time in his life, Gimli cursed his short stature. If he had been taller, he would have carried the elf. As it was, he was beginning to doubt Legolas would even make the guardhouse.

A few more steps and Legolas valiantly tried to keep going, knowing that he had very little time. His breaths shortened and quickened, his fingers digging into the dwarf’s shoulders.

Taking the last steps, they entered the stone building. Legolas leaned heavily on the dwarf, to the point of Gimli straining to stay upright. Without thinking, Gimli reached out and tenderly rubbed the hardened belly.

Legolas winced all the harder. Finally, his knees buckled and he sank to the floor. Time was up.

“Legolas . . .lie down . . .I’ll take your britches off,” Gimli told him. His face turned pink beneath his beard, but Legolas did not look like he cared.

Legolas tipped forward onto his hands, panting heavily for a long time, before rolling onto his back. Within seconds, he discovered that this only served to make the pain worse. Grasping Gimli’s hand, he panted hard.

“You can scream,” the dwarf invited. “There’s no one here, and I won’t hold it against you.”

Legolas relaxed and pulled open the single button on his knee-length tunic. “My clothes,” he breathed.

Gimli nodded and, undoing the buttons, he pulled his trousers off him in one move. “I suppose this is the wrong time to mention that I’ve always wanted to do that?” he wondered.

Legolas blindly reached out for him, eyes wide. He squeezed the hand he found and panted harder still. “Scream if you want to,” Gimli said. Legolas’ breath continued fast and furious and his grip tightened.

“Ârâgorn will not be long,” Gimli assured him, and at the same time hoped he was right.

Legolas felt the pain ease and slowed his breathing, but the respite was all too brief. One pain had barely ended before the next rose.

“Hold on,” the dwarf kneeling beside him whispered.

Legolas arched his back, and gasped, squeezing the dwarf’s fingers until they turned purple. Gimli grimaced but did not make a sound. Aule, he thought, if Legolas can endure that without a sound, then I can take this.

Legolas relaxed again and panted. Gimli stayed with him, feeling sorry for the elf. It seemed to be going on and on. Where was Ârâgorn? More to the point, what was he supposed to do until he got there?"

“Um . . .Legolas . . .you need some help . . .I think. Um . . .what do I do?”

Legolas’ bare knees stuck out at an odd angle and Gimli wondered if he dared look. Was this the wrong time to announce to the world that in truth he was actually squeamish, unless it happened to be an orc he was hewing? Legolas gasped, his breath hissing in his throat.

Gimli reconsidered . . .this seemed to be more of a bad time for Legolas, so he resolved to cease his own complaints and get on with it.

Legolas gripped the dwarf’s aching hand and let out a tiny cry, hardly noticeable even to the dwarf next to him. Was that it? Was it over? Legolas seemed to be relaxing his grip. His eyes opened. "Pick it up," he whispered, hoarsely.

Gimli looked down and sure enough a wet and blooded babe was lying on the cold stone floor between his thighs. “Oh, not good,” Gimli suddenly said and whipped the infant onto Legolas’ chest, since it was the warmest place available. The look on Legolas’ face was priceless, full of love and wonder, still breathless as he was.

Gimli smiled. He would not have traded this for anything in the world or beyond. Legolas suddenly looked up at him, eyes wide. Gimli’s smile faded. “A-another one . . .?”

Gimli almost ripped the jerkin off his back and covered the infant as it mewled softly. Legolas took hold of his hand, almost crushing it. His head rolled back, as his back arched. Gimli heard noises outside. Damn! Dwarves and their bad timing . . .and an elf in this state . . .

The door burst open and a tall figure appeared in the light, moving at a run. He wasted no time in sliding to a halt beside them as Legolas relaxed and panted.

“Oh boy,” the king whispered. “This is not what I had expected.” He knelt down as Legolas gasped. Ârâgorn caught the second infant before it could touch the cold floor and laid him on the dwarf’s jacket on Legolas’ chest - but at the last second realised that there was another babe beneath it.

“Two . . .?” Ârâgorn whispered.

Legolas relaxed, breathless and awed by the result of such agony. “Never again,” he panted, holding the almost hairless babies. The pointed ears and blonde fuzz on their crowns the only indication as to what they were, beyond small, pink and helpless. They both blinked in astonishment at their rapid arrival and suddenly let out loud cries.

Ârâgorn smiled at the sight. “Well done,” he praised. “Congratulations, Gimli.”

Gimli looked up from eyeing the twins and gaped at the king. “What are you talking about? These aren’t mine, would that they were.” He eyed his ruined hand, still dark pink, and pocked with nail marks. “Pah, war wounds,” he muttered and stood up. He gave the elf a warm smile, “Well done . . .I wouldn’t have missed that for all the mithril in Arda.”

The elf hugged the shadows, settling for a dark spot behind a statue to observe the comings and goings of the room. Ârâgorn entered, a maid bearing a tray of food entered, a moment later the maid came out, just as another entered carrying a pot of hot water. After a while of nothing, the elf noticed the lone figure further along the hallway. It was the dwarf.

He approached, and changed his mind, but changed his mind again and walked up to the door. Reaching out to knock, he huffed under his breath and retreated. He repeated this twice, before the elf realised that it was not some bizarre dwarf ritual. The amused elf watched him pace for several minutes, and perk up when Ârâgorn came out.

“Is he alright?” the dwarf asked, worriedly.

Ârâgorn smiled. “Gimli, he is fine. Stop fretting and pacing and just go in,” he told him gently.

Gimli put on an air of innocence. “I was merely passing. He’s just an elf, after all. A friend to be sure, but not that important.”

The elf almost gave himself away by laughing, Ârâgorn discretely hid a grin and rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he replied. “How bad of me to assume otherwise. Legolas is resting, but I am sure he would enjoy a visit from his friend.”

“I’ll . . .go in in a wee while,” Gimli said. “Er . . .” He could not think of a reason why not now.

Ârâgorn pinched his shoulder gently and smiled. “A daunting prospect for us old bachelors,” he decided. “Then one of us has children and the rest of us feel left out,” he noted.

“Ai,” Gimli agreed without thinking.

Ârâgorn smiled and left him to attend to other matters and Gimli remained alone. His head lifted a moment later, with a frown firmly planted on his face. “Us bachelors? You’re married,” he noted quietly. He eyed the door again and reached out to knock, but then changed his mind yet again.

While Gimli had turned his back, the elf slipped in at the door and closed it behind him. Legolas looked up, and smiled. He was bathing a tiny infant. “They came early,” he announced.

The visitor smiled and approached. “He is so small . . .they?” he voiced, his eyes shrunk.

Legolas smiled wider still. “Twins,” he said.

“Oh . . .that would explain the why they are early.” The elf straightened.

Legolas wrapped the bathed infant and began to dry him. “Would you help me dress him, Haldir?”

Haldir considered it, and looked around. He picked up an item of clothing and passed it to Legolas.

Legolas took it and frowned. “Haldir?”

Haldir sighed. “I do not know if I could be a father to these. I do not feel worthy. I know you asked me too, but I do not feel adequate to the task. I will be honoured to be counted as guardian, if the worst should happen . . .please, Legolas . . .I am not one for children. They scare me more than a host of orcs descending on me.”

Legolas chuckled softly. “They are harmless, my friend. They even lack teeth.”

Haldir nodded. “I know . . .but fatherhood scares me. Perhaps, if you would permit me, I can ask a friend?” He eyed the one laying in Legolas’ lap and the other sleeping in the crib. “Who is the father, anyway? They are beautiful. I have only ever seen hair that colour . . .” A knock came at the door, and both pairs of eyes turned towards it. Haldir smiled at the hesitant, nervous sound. His question forgotten. “I do know someone who would love to fill that position. He has been outside since you were brought here.”

Legolas smiled widely. “Pacing, coming towards the door and backing away . . .I know.”

Haldir grinned. “He loves you, do you know that?”

Legolas nodded. “He practically admitted it to me in the guardhouse. And he said that he wished these two were his . . .as do I.”

“That is settled then,” Haldir decided, and strode confidently towards the door and opened it. A startled dwarf looked up. “Caught, master dwarf,” Haldir noted. Without preamble, he grabbed the scruff of his neck and dragged him inside before shutting the door and blocking his escape. “Look what I found outside,” Haldir noted innocently. “I will bid you farewell, Prince Legolas, and send word to your father. He will no doubt be delighted.”

Gimli heard the door close behind him and his eyes met Legolas’. There was an extended silence “Well, I er . . .wanted to see how you were.”

Legolas smiled. “I am well, thank you.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” the dwarf said gently, stuck for something to say. “And the babies? Are they alright? They seem so tiny, being born so early, and . . .” His voice faded.

Legolas chuckled softly. “They are both well.”

Gimli nodded. He took out his pipe and thought better of it around the children and stuffed it back into his pocket. “What are they?” he asked. “I mean, they’re babies, I know, but . . .”

Legolas grinned. The dwarf was rambling. “I have two sons,” he told him. Legolas beckoned him closer. “Come, Gimli. Take a look. I know you have been wanting to for the past two hours.”

“Well, I . . .admit that I have been outside the door. I wanted to let you rest first . . .” He approached cautiously and looked into the crib, and smiled gently. “Aaww, he is so sweet. He looks like you. Where is the other one?”

“Right here,” Legolas replied, indicating to the infant against his breast.

Gimli looked and found the babe to be feeding. Gimli turned away. “I, er . . .did not know you could do that,” he said, embarrassed. “Actually, I did not know you could give birth . . .or get pregnant, either.”

Legolas chuckled softly. “Come and sit with me, Gimli. I would enjoy your company.”

Gimli turned and sat, not daring to look, in case it was bad manners, or some other elvish thing, but he looked anyway. Dwarves were not all that particular.

“Thank you for helping me,” Legolas said.

“It was nothing,” Gimli replied and quickly added, “Well, not for you, of course . . .”

Legolas reached out to hold Gimli’s hand, tenderly thumbing the sore skin. “Your war wounds,” he remembered. “Do they trouble you?”

Gimli shook his head with a smile. “No.”

“Would you like to, stay, Gimli?” Legolas asked softly.

Gimli turned pensive. “Who is the father? Is it Haldir? I would hate to get attached and have to walk away later. I couldn’t do that without a fight, you know.”

Legolas grinned, amused at the sudden rush of jealousy, and was touched also by the tenderness there, the love. He slowly shook his head and chuckled. “Dwarves,” he mock-scoffed. “Such jealous creatures. I am well aware of how you feel, Gimli. It is time to admit that I feel the same.”

Gimli gazed at him in surprise. “Well, that’s all well and good, but you’re bonded, and . . .not to me.” There was a pause before Legolas heard him grumble under his breath. “That prissy Haldir, gets all the fun.”

Legolas suddenly laughed out loud, waking the sleeping infant and making the nursing one squirm and let go. Suddenly they were both crying. “Oh, no, hush,” he soothed the one in his arms. He latched on again and Legolas turned his attention to the other. “Gimli?”

The dwarf was already bending over the wooden crib and lifting the upset babe, curling an arm around him and jiggling him a bit. “You tend to that one. I have everything under control here.”

Legolas watched him sooth the infant and lull him into slumber. “Gimli?” he called softly.

“Yes?” Gimli replied as he swayed this way and that, watching the droopy lids close.

“Your beard may be a hazard in the months to come.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Gimli replied and suddenly realised what he had said. He looked up. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Legolas smiled. “Unlike my father, I have two to raise alone. I do not think I could, nor do I wish to.” Gimli lowered himself into the chair again and sighed softly. “Well, for one thing . . .Haldir will want them back . . .won’t he?”

“Back?” Legolas wondered with a frown. “These are not Haldir’s children.”

“Who is the father then?” Gimli demanded softly.

“You . . .if you would like,” Legolas replied.

Gimli sat motionless as he stared at the elf, and remained thus for a long, long time. “I would . . .” he said slowly, as if something else was forthcoming, but nothing else was said. Legolas smiled. “Legolas, you do realise that I am probably the only person alive who has seen so . . much of you,” he began as genteelly as possible. “Except who fathered these beautiful wee things, and Ârâgorn doesn’t count, and as much as I am close to you and besotted by these hairless wonders, I would like to know.”

“They are not hairless wonders,” Legolas groused with a grin, gently smoothing a finger across the babe’s soft white-gold hair.

“They look like you,” Gimli said.

“They do?”

“Ai,” Gimli spoke gently. “Beautiful, sweet . . .it makes me proud to have been there to see them enter this world.” He sighed. “I only wish I could take the blame. Is it possible to regret not taking the blame?” Legolas chuckled softly, and Gimli smiled. “It seems ironic to me.”

Legolas regarded him gently. He owed Gimli. “I suppose you are right. Someone will ask, and I would rather tell you and no other.”

Gimli nodded in agreement. “If he comes to claim them, I’d prefer to know who I have to kill and why.” Legolas rolled his eyes. “Dwarves, you are such jealous creatures.”

“I believe you have mentioned that,” Gimli said.

There was a long silence while Gimli waited, and finally his patience was rewarded.

“Their father is . . .”

A knock came at the door and Gimli tried not to growl under his breath. Legolas called out for them to enter and they looked up as Arwen appeared.

“Lady Arwen,” Legolas greeted. “I was not aware that you had arrived.”

“Greetings to you both,” she said. “We just arrived in the citadel.”

“How was you journey?” Gimli asked.

“It was long,” she replied. “Legolas, my father is here. He wishes to see you now, concerning a grave matter.”

Legolas opened his mouth, “I am . . .” but closed it again. He looked at Gimli and his two sons and drew his son from his nursing. Closing his shirt, he laid the infant in the crook of Gimli’s other arm and stood. “I will see him now,” he said, though he was nervous.

Gimli thought that strange.

Arwen stared long and hard at the two babes in Gimli’s arms and lifted her eyes to Legolas. “I did not realise you had given birth. I am sorry for disturbing you.”

“It is alright,” Legolas replied. “I was not due for several weeks yet, but twins, I am told, tend to arrive earlier than planned.”

Arwen glanced at them again and looked at Legolas. “Until now, I was unaware that you were even expecting. Come, if you are able. My father is in the ambassador’s quarters.”

Legolas straightened his gown and kissed Gimli. “I will return shortly,” he promised the astonished dwarf.

He followed Arwen out the door, looking down at himself. His body was certainly slimmer than it had been three hours ago, but not quite as slim as he had been ten months ago. Taking on an air of calm, he entered through the door which Arwen opened for him. It closed quietly, but decisively, behind him, and something told him, Arwen was not in the room.

An elf sat at the bureau turned and looked up. Elrond smiled and stood. Legolas bowed. “You summoned me, Lord Elrond?” he said and approached. Legolas’ eyes flicked over to another elf sitting by the fire, and his heart sank.

“Indeed, I did,” Elrond replied. It was hard to say whether he was pleased or angry, since the Lord of Imladris rarely ever showed either. “Come, sit by the fire.”

Legolas’ eyes met those of the other elf and joined them, taking a seat opposite him.

“We have had a long and tiring journey, turning strange upon arrival at our destination on the eve of my daughter’s wedding. Firstly, Haldir meets us at the gate, and suddenly I find that my son keeps secrets. Elrohir informed me . . .after much cajoling, I might add, that he and you are bonded. He then chose to tell me that you conceived during your time in Imladris.” Elrond inspected him long and hard. “It has come to my notice that he may have been incorrect.”

“On the contrary, Lord Elrond, I did indeed conceive,” Legolas replied.

Elrond frowned, or was it glared? “If that was true, you would not be due for another sixteen weeks, and believe me, I know, you would not be this slim if you were eight months pregnant . . .”

Eight months? Legolas frowned, but hid it. “Lord Elrond, I gave birth three hours ago, to twin sons.”

Elrond looked surprised. “And yet, you came to me when you should have been resting?”

“You summoned me,” Legolas countered. “I could not do otherwise. My sons were, in fact, early, but only by eight weeks.”

“Then, since your were only pregnant for ten months, Elrohir is exonerated from all bond and fatherhood."

Legolas’ jaw dropped. Elrohir? He knew Haldir had planned something . . .but this . . .? Apparently the shock on his face was convincing. “Elrohir and I have known each other since before the Counsel, Lord Elrond. I did not lie . . .”

“I do not think I have made myself clear,” Elrond interrupted. He swallowed, he did not want to do this. “I am well aware that you have loyally withheld the truth of your child’s - children’s father, and I commend it, but listen carefully to what I am about to say.”

Legolas did not like the sound of this, and neither it seemed did Elrohir sitting silent on the far side of the fire. He could think of two outcomes to this, and neither sounded too promising. Either one spoken out loud might tip the balance. He waited.

Elrond paced regally for am moment. “On the one hand, I could demand that you return at once to Imladris and raise my grandchildren there, as bonded elves, and sail into the west when they are old enough to survive such a journey.” Legolas gulped, his ears picked up a similar sound from across the way. “On the other hand, I could demand that you hand over the children and return them to my son, who will raise them as afore mentioned, without you.”

Legolas quailed at the thought. There it was, both nightmares made verbal, and he had to choose, he knew it. He almost forgot to breathe. Elrohir sent him an apologetic look.

“I propose another,” Elrohir jumped in. Elrond glared at him. “Ada, I will not remain silent. You will not tear two infants from their nanneth. It is not within you to be so cruel. And neither would you send both of us into eternal torment by forcing us to be bonded when it is the wish of neither of us.”

Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but an argument was brewing and before his eyes it exploded with gale force proportions. He had to hand it to Elrohir, he was good at getting friends out of trouble. An elf of honour. But then so was Elrond. Silently, he wondered how far Elrohir would go to save Legolas’ honour, or how far Elrond would go to save his son’s. His eyes switched from one to the other and finally stood up. “My Lord Elrond,” he said.

At once, he envisioned the sea parting at his voice as the two elves silenced and looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time.

“If you would like, I shall show you the father of my children,” he offered, and strode to the door.

Two surprised and somewhat confused and intrigued elves followed him out the door and down the hall. Arwen was outside, she watched them pass by and covered her mouth in horror. She knew what they were about to do.

“Ada, please. I beg you, do not do this . . .!”

Elrond held up a hand, but said nothing as the three strode passed her down the hallway.

Ârâgorn, exiting the chambers opposite, frowned as he saw the entourage blow down the hallway towards Legolas’ chambers. “Five minutes in my palace and your two Houses are fighting again. What is it this time?”

Arwen said nothing, but took hold of his hand and raced after her father.

Legolas opened the door to his rooms, and Elrond and Elrohir swept in after him, to find a dwarf gently rocking two cribs at once. Gimli looked up with a smile. A second later he was on his feet with a scowl and a drawn axe.

Legolas smiled a little, he had expected this and needed to say nothing. Gimli eyed the lord of Imladris with less than favourable thoughts, and ignored Ârâgorn and Arwen altogether as they entered the now crowded room. “Come any closer, and I’ll do something you’ll regret,” Gimli warned.

Elrond’s face softened and a gentle smile curved his lips, although a protective dwarf did not notice. “We . . .apologise for startling you, Master Gimli . . .we came to see your new arrivals,” he said.

Gimli growled in his chest and lowered the axe a little as he watched with the eyes of a hawk as Elrond and his son approached the cribs. They looked in at the sleeping babes and smiled, somewhat with relief on Elrond’s part.

“You must be proud,” Elrohir noted. “And rightly so . . .” His eyes popped wide and he looked at Legolas, his jaw dropped. Legolas swallowed.

“I agree,” Elrond added, not noticing or feeling anything. These babes were not of his bloodline “May they grow in love, grace and wisdom,” he said and turned towards the door, grabbing a speechless Elrohir as he went, and swept into the corridor beyond.

Arwen and Ârâgorn looked on in confusion. "What just happened?" he asked.

“I have no idea,” she replied. “But they are not my brother’s sons,” she whispered.

Ârâgorn raised both eyebrows. “That was a fast disowning . . .faster than mine,” he added wryly.

Arwen looked up at him. “You misunderstand,” she said. “They are not and never were Elrohir’s sons, despite what he told ada just after we arrived. Elves of the Eldar can sense kin. It would have been obvious the moment he saw them.”

Ârâgorn twigged. “He was trying to save Legolas’ honour . . .what happens now that your father has realised it?”

Arwen shook her head. “I do not believe honour is involved here, but a conspiracy to hide the father’s true identity.”

Ârâgorn frowned. “Then . . .who is the real father?”

Legolas smiled warmly at Gimli, who smiled back. The dwarf knew, and the elf was not saying.

“Ârâgorn, my Lady Arwen, may I introduce my sons, Thorin and Thranduil?” he invited with much panache.

Ârâgorn frowned. “Yours? But you said . . .”

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Gimli replied. “I am the first dwarf who ever had twins. That is bound to get my father’s attention.”

“They are beautiful,” Ârâgorn said, approaching to watch them sleeping.

Arwen smiled and spent a few minutes, knelt beside them, gazing at the silver-haired babes. She had seen hair that colour before, but it seemed of lesser import than brushing a fingertip across their soft cheeks.

“Any problems?” Ârâgorn asked.

“No,” Legolas replied. “I thank you for your regard.”

“If there are any worries, you know where I am.”

“And my father,” Arwen added. “He has experience with twins and several early babies.”

Legolas nodded. “If he will speak to me again after today,” he noted.

“I should be more worried for Elrohir,” she suggested.

Haldir stepped into the room and nodded to the king and queen as they left.

“I suppose you’re going to explain what that was about?” Gimli suggested.

Finally, Legolas turned to Gimli and smiled. “Yes,” Legolas replied and gazed into the dwarf’s eyes for a long time before kissing his lips tenderly.

“I wondered when you were going to do that again,” Gimli said.

“I may wish to do several things again,” Legolas responded, with a quick glance in the direction of the sleeping infants.

Gimli chuckled. “You need to rest first, lad . . .lass . . .whatever.” They both laughed softly. “You have had a long day.”

“I have,” Legolas agreed. “But made perfect by the love and attendance of one dwarf, whom I love in return.”

They turned to Haldir, who smiled warmly. Legolas embraced him.

“Has the dust settled?” Haldir asked.

Legolas glanced at Gimli, who had still to put away his axe. “I believe it has,” he replied. “Although I will deal with you fully once I feel stronger.”

Haldir smiled gently. “I did not like doing that, but Elrohir offered.”

“It was sweet of him,” Legolas decided. “But it does not exonerate you,” he added.

Haldir simply bowed. “You are very welcome.” He peered in at the sleeping babes. “By the way,” he said. “You never did tell me who the father is.”

Three thousand miles away, anxious eyes looked southward from the flet in the mallorn trees.

“It is done,” a voice soothed melodically. “He has chosen another and will bond before the moon wanes. The babes have accepted him, and your name is held pure.”

Two pairs of eyes turned to her, standing tall and wise above them on the stairs.

“Confounded woman!” Gandalf noted gruffly. “Can’t hide a thing from her.”

“I noticed,” Celeborn replied.

El fin