Will of the Valar.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the originl characters and their adventures. The Tolkien Estate and New Line Cinema own Middle Earth and its regular denizens.

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After several days of dragging about, sighing like the heroine of a bad romance novel, and basically wallowing in self-pity, Alex decided she would rejoin the land of the living. She practiced with her sword and daggers, and even her crossbow. She had been forbidden the longbow, however, since she managed to injure herself and embarrass her husband and his kin every time she even attempted to pick one up.

The Elven warriors who were staying behind to provide protection to the colony enjoyed sparring with the Lady. She had strength and stamina, if not style. She was quite good---for a mortal. For Elf-kind, she was as raw as an Elfling. A very young Elfling.

She spent time with Elven texts brought to her by the twin sons of Elrond, Arwen’s brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, from their father’s library at Rivendell. When the Elf Lord of Imaldris had sailed into the West, his sons remained behind in Middle Earth and still occasionally inhabited their father’s realm. Most of the Eldar who had not wished to leave just yet had joined Legolas in Ithilien, helping to rejuvenate the land that had been so decimated by Sauron’s evil. A few remained in Rivendell, and occasionally, the twins would come through and bring her books they thought she might enjoy. When they were about, Erestor and Figwit were quite patient in their attempts to instruct her in translating most of the texts. However, they, too, were off at war with their kin. It seemed there was no such thing as an academic Elf.

She knew the twins, Haldir, Orophin, Glorfindel and Saelbeth, another of her husband’s friends and councilors, were already in southern Gondor, having gone ahead of Legolas and the remainder of the Elven forces. She didn’t worry too much about their safety since Elves, for all their other-worldly beauty and seeming delicacy, were quite fierce and efficient warriors. She admired their calm in the midst of battle and wished she could control herself like they did. But, she had the very human traits of a bad temper and volatile emotions. Only years of self-discipline and military training among her own people kept her in check.

In the five years since she had come to Middle Earth, she had adapted quite well, in her opinion. Getting used to the lack of modern conveniences, like computers, energy weapons, inter-galactic travel, and the like, had been easier than she’d expected. In fact, she seldom thought about her previous life. It was as if she had been reborn and given a second chance here. She was an entirely different person with different priorities and values. True, things were a bit more savage in Middle Earth, but a part of her reveled in the freedom the lack of “modern” civilization afforded. Right and wrong, Good and Evil, were clearer here. Evil had a name and a face, and it could be met and defeated.

She was sitting in the window of their library, laboring over a history of Gondolin, the place where Glorfindel, her husband’s friend and the Seneschal of Rivendell, had met his death in the First Age, slaying a Balrog in order to protect Lord Elrond’s grandparents. The Valar, whom she equated with Archangels in her mind, re-embodied the Elf Lord and sent him back to Middle Earth where he continued to be a hero to his people. The text was in Quenya, the ancient and mostly lost language of the Elves. She did not know when her implanted translator had stopped working, but it was no longer necessary. She had learned Sindarin, the common language of the modern Elves, as well as Westron, or the common tongue of men, in her earliest days in Middle Earth. Now, she painstakingly translated each character and word the old-fashioned way.

The sound of a horse and rider rapidly approaching interrupted her thoughts. She looked out and saw a Man dismounting and speaking to Balglin, one of her husband’s warriors left behind to guard the colony. They soon entered the room where she sat and both bowed respectfully.

“Lady Alexandra,” the man said, “I come from Lady Eowyn’s household. Her time draws near and she has been disturbed by unsettling dreams.”

“Many pregnant women have turbulent emotions, and concerns for their children. It is normal,” Alex replied. Why was he telling her this?

“She is greatly troubled, my lady. She sees ill omens in these visions and has asked that you come to Emyn Arnen.”

“She asked for me?” Eowyn must be quite frightened indeed, if she actually sent for her.

“She did.” The man did not seem to find the request strange although Balglin gave her a look telling her he shared her surprise.

“Well, of course I’ll come. I don’t know what help I can be, but if Eowyn wishes me to visit with her, I’ll certainly do it. Just give me a few moments and I’ll get my things together.”

“Thank you, Lady Alexandra,” the man replied. Balglin went to have the lady’s mount readied. He asked her whom she wished as an escort, but was told she would go alone.

“There’s no need to take anyone else with me. I’m sure Lady Eowyn’s man will be adequate protection. Besides, with so many warriors in the south, those of you here need to remain in case anything … untoward happens.”

The Elf was not happy with her decision, but he could not override it. With Prince Legolas gone, her word was law.

The ride to Emyn Arnen was about a day’s journey from her own home, shorter if they did not stop. Alex did not like to travel without her husband and so any journey undertaken in his absence was simply one to be endured and gotten over quickly. They rode all day and night, pausing only to rest their mounts, and were at the seat of the Prince of Ithilien by midday the next day.

Alex was taken immediately to Eowyn’s private sitting room. She hadn’t seen the Lady of Ithilien in several months and was shocked by her appearance. Eowyn, normally, was fair, with long, lustrous golden hair, and a delicate frame. She was not as tall as Alex, coming up a good six inches shorter than Legolas’ wife. Her pale skin and blonde hair had earned her the title of the White Lady of Rohan when she dwelt with her uncle, King Theoden of Rohan, before he was killed in the War of the Ring.

The woman who looked up at her from her couch had haunted eyes and sallow skin. Her hair hung limp and lifeless, and her swollen body looked painful to Alex’s eyes. Her lips were dry and cracked and she looked as though she had not slept in days. When she reached out her hand, Alex noticed it was puffy and the lady’s rings looked as though they were going to cut off her circulation. Taking the offered hand, she noted that it was cold and clammy. Alex was no doctor, and had never been pregnant herself, but she knew Eowyn’s condition was not normal.

“Thank you for coming,” Eowyn said hoarsely. “I know my request must have come as quite a shock.”

“Yes, it did,” Alex replied truthfully. “But there is no need to thank me. Of course I would come if you asked. What troubles you, Eowyn?”

“I have been dreaming,” she said. “And my dreams are most disturbing. I keep seeing a crib, and in it sleeps my son. I am watching him and he is beautiful. But a shadow grows and begins to creep across the floor until it reaches the crib. I try to take my child and run, but I cannot move. I know that if my child disappears into the shadow, he will be lost to me forever.” Her eyes met Alex’s and they were full of fear. “Then, I see you step out of the corner of the room and you pick him up. The shadow covers you both, but you are not bothered by it. You walk away from the darkness and put him in my arms.”

When she finished her tale, she turned away and looked out the window across the hills. Alex was at a loss. She did not know what to say; had she and Eowyn been closer friends, she could have laughed and made a joke about how anyone who would entrust their child to her must be an unfit parent. But she could see the other woman took her visions seriously. She had learned that in Middle Earth, things she would normally have dismissed as superstition and fantasy, were very real. Prophecies, visions, ‘far-speech’, as the Elves called it, were all accepted as everyday occurrences. And she had also seen examples of those same ‘fantasies’ in practice, first-hand.

Removing her traveling cloak, Alex sat in a chair next to Eowyn’s couch. Taking the Lady’s hand, she asked, “Do you know of anyone who would wish to harm your child?”

Eowyn shook her head. “He is not yet born. How can anyone wish him ill? But I know, in my heart, something will seek to harm him, and you are the only one who can protect him.”

“I … I don’t know what to say. Of course, I would never let anything happen to your child---to any child, if it were within my power to stop it. Do you want me to stay with you until your time to deliver?” She really didn’t know what else to say or do.

The look of gratitude on Eowyn’s face was heartbreaking. “Would you do that, Alexandra? I know you bear no great love for me, but for the sake of the friendship and brotherhood our husbands share, please, stay with me until this shadow no longer haunts my dreams and my child is safe.”

To protest that, on the contrary, she loved Eowyn very much, would have insulted both of them; so Alex simply smiled and reassured her that, of course, she would remain for as long as she was needed.

“Thank you, Alexandra.” Eowyn lay back against the cushions, clearly exhausted. Alex still did not like her look and decided she would speak with the healer, midwife---whoever was in charge of the lady’s prenatal care. Bidding her hostess good day, she went to find her room and wash the dirt of the road from her face and freshen up as best she could. She cursed the stupid war for taking Legolas away---without him to braid her hair, it was becoming a tangled mess after only a few days. She did what she could, then went to send a message to Balglin, telling him of her decision to remain with Eowyn, and find the chief steward of the household.

The steward directed her to Fenwyn, the midwife. He also told her the lady had not been eating much lately, and seemed only to want brined vegetables. He said she feared to sleep because of her disturbing dreams and could often be heard crying out at night when she did finally fall into restless slumber.

Fenwyn confirmed the report of the steward. She said Eowyn often complained of exhaustion and her feet and hands swelled every day, going down a bit during the night. She also said the child was due within two months time. Alex was surprised. From her limited exposure to pregnancy, Eowyn looked ready to pop and she certainly didn’t look as though she could last another two months.

“Frankly, my lady, I would have her go to the Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith,” Fenwyn confided. “I fear something may go awry with the delivery and we could lose both her and the babe.”

Knowing that medical care was not very advanced in this place, Alex was forced to agree. “Have you told Lady Eowyn of your fears?”

“Oh no, my lady. I do not wish to upset her.”

Alex stared at the woman in surprise. “Upset her? Her life and the life of her child may be in danger. It is your duty, as the midwife, to inform her of the possibilities and let her make the decision. I’m sure a little tantrum now would be better than a dead heir later!”

Fenwyn was speechless from shock. The Lady of the Elves was known to be somewhat strange in her beliefs and practices, and everyone knew Elf-kind had their own peculiar ways. But she obviously did not know anything about how things were done in Gondor. One did not discuss these things with a lady in such a delicate condition.

Alex rolled her eyes and returned to her room to rest. She joined Eowyn the next morning for breakfast in the salon and when she saw her hostess reaching for the bowl of brined vegetables, she gently moved it to one side.

“The salt used to brine the vegetables is one of the reasons you are swelling so,” she told a surprised Eowyn. “It is not healthy for you or the baby, and could cause a serious condition in you both.” She vaguely recalled a biology class in which a condition called pre-eclampsia was mentioned, and knew it could lead to the death of both the mother and the child. She wished now she’d paid more attention. All she knew was salt exacerbated the condition.

“You should also keep your legs elevated at the level of your heart so they don’t swell as much. Your heart is doing the work for two right now, so you don’t want to put extra strain on it.”

“How do you know these things?” Eowyn asked. She did not know Legolas’ wife was a healer. She herself had training as one, but had never heard these things.

“It was something my people passed along,” Alex said vaguely. Smiling, she added, “And aren’t I supposed to be protecting the child? Trust me.”

Eowyn nodded, but looked longingly at the salty vegetables.

“Fenwyn also tells me she is concerned about the delivery,” Alex went on. “She says she would feel better if you were to go to Minas Tirith to the Houses of Healing. Ioreth would be able to see that anything that may be needed to make your delivery successful would be done.”

“She has not spoken of this to me,” Eowyn said after considering Alex’s words.

“She doesn’t want to upset you,” Alex replied. “Apparently, you can be quite unpleasant when vexed.”

The lady smiled. “Yes, I can,” she admitted.

“You are a healer yourself, but sometimes it takes someone from the outside to see things to which you’ve become so accustomed, you don’t notice them anymore. Even I can see you are in pain and suffering and I know that is not normal for a pregnancy that is going well. I would urge you to consider going to Ioreth.”

Eowyn thought for a moment. True, she did feel bad, although she attributed it to the pregnancy and her lack of rest due to the terrible dreams. Her time was drawing nigh and she wanted to have her child where he would receive the best care.

She nodded. “We will go to Minas Tirith.” At Alex’s raised brow, she smiled. “You did promise to stay until the child is safe.”

“Yes, I did. And I will. I just need to send a message to my people so they will know where I am should my husband need me.”

The two women parted ways so each could make arrangements for the upcoming journey. A covered litter was prepared for Eowyn and they made plans to depart for the capitol city of Gondor the following morning.