A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Lothlorien
By Fionnabair
Disclaimer: All Tolkien's, etc, etc, and he's spinning in his grave. Thanks
to Smitty, Liz, Raven and Dee for encouragement, tips and general, appalled
support.
As the Fellowship struggled up the snowy pass of Caradhras, Legolas became
acutely aware that their number had increased by one. Not that slimy little
lech Gollum, who followed them with his Ring obsession, but within himself,
the elf knew, a new Fellowship member was growing
As he skipped along the snow, praying that no-one would notice that he was
not quite as light as an elf should be, he bitterly regretted that night in
Rivendell.
"Beware Imaldris, they be strange and vurrin elves there," his father had
warned before he had left Mirkwood.
Now, Legolas realised, his father wasn't warning him about Elrond's
penchant for dwarves, although it had seemed rather strange that Gimli
had looked so smug and tired during their stay there.
But Glorfindel had seemed so nice, so... attractive and that fling in one
of the grottoes had been fun.
Fun!
What fun was it when one's lover left one up the duff and stranded miles
away in the wilderness with no other elf to understand Legolas'
predicament?
"I'm sorry, Legolas, but I've only lived through three ages of
Middle Earth," said Glorfindel. "I'm too young to settle down. Can't you do
something about it?"
The shame, the humiliation! A prince of Mirkwood, pregnant and abandoned by
a Rivendell elf? He knew if his father discovered, he would be cast out of
the forest, he and his poor fatherless waif of a child!
By the time they reached Moria, Legolas, despite his fears as to what lay
in the mine, was grateful to hide in the dark. Sucking in his gut could
only work so well, and Boromir had been giving him some dubious looks.
Calculating grins from the Man of Gondor did nothing for Legolas' calm, and
he was sure he'd heard a whisper of "Elf slut" as he passed Boromir's
bedroll the night before.
To his surprise, a small, sturdy and hairy hand was slipped into his, and
he looked down to see Gimli smiling up at him.
"Don't you worry, laddie," he said. "My cousin Balin will make sure that
all's right for the bairn. It's near your time, isn't it?"
Dimly Legolas wondered how Gimli knew so much about elvish reproduction,
but his wonderment was soon overwhelmed by the feeling of security that
the dwarf gave him.
Gimli's distress at his cousin's fate and the dangers of Moria distracted
Legolas from his personal woes for a while. They progressed slowly, and in
the dim light that Gandalf produced, no-one could see his silhouette
properly. True, Frodo had smiled sympathetically one morning when Legolas
returned from his daily bout of nausea (a convenient well by Balin's tomb
had helped him hide the evidence of morning sickness), and Gandalf was
unduly solicitous in helping the elf on tricky ground. Aragorn had sat down
beside Legolas one night and murmured "You're not the first to fall for
Glorfindel's tricks. Elrond is thinking of getting him fixed, ever since
Elladan and Elrohir had to make a discreet trip to Lorien in my great-great
grandfather's time." Even Boromir had stopped leering.
So despite the dark and danger of Moria, Legolas' spirits had picked up
somewhat. He found to his delight that he could still draw his bow, despite
his girth, and in the mass slaughter of orcs, he vented some of his fury
with Glorfindel. If he waddled rather than ran, his companions were too
concerned with escaping the Balrog to tease him.
Then disaster struck. Gandalf fell into the darkness and the remainder of
the Fellowship fled Moria. As they reached open air, Legolas felt a sharp
pain and cried out. Beside him, Gimli sobbed.
"We must move on," cried Aragorn. "By nightfall, these hills will be
swarming with orcs."
Legolas gasped again and Aragorn crossed over to him.
"We must move, Legolas," he urged. "I know you miss Gandalf, but we cannot
stay here."
"It's noo that, ye fool," snarled Gimli behind him. "Can ye noo see that
his time's upon him?"
Aragorn paled. In his years of life, he had faced many dangers and fought
many battles, but the thought of acting as midwife was too terrifying.
"Sam!" he called. "Come here, Legolas needs help."
The hobbits crossed over, and gently helped Gimli set Legolas on the ground.
Merry bent down professionally. "Hmm, some time to go still. Sam, we need
hot water here."
Sam looked panicked. "Mercy, Master Merry, I don't know nothin' 'bout
birthing no babies!"
Merry looked up. "Does anyone here, besides Pippin and myself, know
anything about childbirth?"
There was a widening circle of horrified hobbits and men as the others
backed away. "I have an axe," offered Gimli. Legolas moaned and clutched
Gimli's arm.
"He canna have the bairn out here on the mountainside," said the dwarf
anxiously. "We mun get him somewhere safer."
"Lothlorien," said Aragorn decisively. "Galadriel knows all about babies."
He paused. "Well, when I say 'all about', I really mean she knows about
getting rid of them. How else do you think they keep the population down
there?"
"This isn't helping, Aragorn," snarled Boromir. He turned to Gimli. "Is
there anywhere else we could go?"
"No," said Gimli.
"We'll just have to go to Lorien and have Frodo distract Galadriel with the
Ring," said Aragorn, suddenly decisive. "Offer it to her or something,
Frodo. Tempt her with world domination. Rejecting that and being smug about
it should keep her occupied long enough for Legolas to give birth safely."
Boromir swung Legolas up into his manly arms. "I know you want to help him,
Gimli," he said gently. "But we must reach the Golden Wood as soon as
possible."
Gimli clung on to Legolas' hand as they approached Lothlorien. "Dinna
worry, laddie," he soothed. "I'll take care of you and the bairn."
Legolas turned a pale, sweating face towards Gimli. "Don't leave me," he
begged.
"I'll never do that," promised Gimli.
Boromir carefully settled Legolas under a tree. "I'll wait over here, if
you don't mind. Got this problem with gunk. Blood, no problem. Mucus, big
problem."
Legolas smiled wanly between his increasingly closer contractions. "Thank
you argh - so much, Boromir." Boromir blushed as he backed away and
muttered something indistinct about being sorry for "slut" comments.
"Right," said Merry. "Me and Pippin can help, but we have to know how
you're doing this, Legolas."
"We're not too well-versed in elvish physiology," added Pippin.
"I don't know," screamed Legolas. "I'm male, I'm not supposed to give
birth. I was hoping Gandalf would help."
From his perch beside Sam, Boromir looked at the huddle. "I hope they work
it out," he said seriously. "I'd really hate for Gimli to have to use his
axe. Legolas might be immortal, but it doesn't mean that it wouldn't hurt."
"Don't you worry about nothin', Master Boromir," soothed Sam. "Masters
Merry and Pippin have delivered more bairns than any other young
gentlehobbits in the Shire. They keep on getting these girls into trouble,
you see. Now, have you seen where I put my garlic?"
Boromir looked down. Sam had a small fire going and was warming up some oil
in a frying pan.
"Sam! Is this really the time for food?"
"It's not for me, sir, it's for Legolas. Master Merry told me to have it
ready to cook the afterbirth. Very good for nursing mothers. fathers.
elves. A bit of garlic and some onion should improve the taste."
Boromir backed away further from the preparations. There were some things
that women kept secret and now he fully understood their reasons. From the
far side of the clearing, he could hear Legolas' panting, the occasional
scream and Gimli's voice urging him to "PUSH!".
"I can see the head!" called Pippin. "One more push, Legolas, and we'll be
there."
A moment later, there was a loud scream from Legolas, followed by a wail.
"It's a boy!" yelled Merry as Boromir sprinted over, trying hard to ignore
the smell of frying garlic behind him.
A small bloody mess was carefully cleaned and handed to Legolas, who
cradled it in his arms. Carefully, he unbuttoned his shirt and offered a
nipple to the babe, who enthusiastically gave suck.
"Lovely," sighed Gimli and pulled elf and son into his own arms. Legolas
lay back against the dwarf with a weak smile.
"Do you know what you're going to call him?" asked Merry.
Legolas looked at Gimli who nodded.
"I thought I'd name him for our friends, who have helped me through all
this," said the elf gently. "I'm going to name him for the Fellowship."
"That's really nice," said Pippin, "but what's the wee lad going to be
known as?"
Legolas looked up from where he nestled in Gimli's strong embrace. There
were tears in his eyes.
"Gandalf," he whispered and he smiled as he said it. "Our little Gandalf."