Son of the Eldar

Title: Son of the Eldar
Author: TICS
Rated: NC17
Genre: Slash, Mpreg, Romance, Angst, AU Movieverse
Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas
Summary: Takes place after the Return of the King. Arwen took her father's advice and sailed to Valinor, leaving Aragorn bereft. Legolas steps in to comfort the King, and finds himself in a situation which he had never dreamt possible.

Son of the Eldar
Part Three


...Six Weeks Later...


Legolas sat at the small table in the King's chambers, fiddling with a string that hung from the cuff of his robe. He had taken to wearing robes of late, even though all of his life he had always felt himself more suited to and more comfortable in jerkins and leggings. Now, it seemed such clothing left him ill at ease. He simply felt more comfortable in these billowing robes and loose underlays. In truth, he had barely begun to change shape, certainly not enough for Aragorn to notice that something was amiss, especially since the Elf kept his form hidden beneath the voluminous robes. Aside from a comment made when Estel noticed his husband's sudden propensity for the loose-fitting garments that Legolas must have grown overly fond of the cakes that the cooks in Imladris often baked, nothing more was said.

Now he sat, fidgeting. His nerves were pulled taut, stretched nearly to the breaking point as he waited for his husband to return to their chambers for the night. He had arrived back from Imladris only a scant few days before, and had thus far been successful in avoiding disrobing in front of his husband, claiming that he still felt ill. It was barely a lie, since he had spent the entire time in a heightened state of nervousness, his stomach churning, wondering how on Arda he was going to tell his husband that he was with child.

He had been completely disbelieving when Lord Elrond had first attempted to enlighten him of the fact. Disbelief had quickly been followed by denial, then anger, then fear. Finally, after a couple of weeks and many long talks with the Elf Lord, Legolas had come to accept the fact that life stirred within him. Now he could sense the life-force that grew within him, and felt a great swell of love grow in his heart for his child. He knew without a doubt that he would allow no harm to come to his babe, would die defending it, and would love it unconditionally.

He could only pray that Aragorn would feel the same.

Legolas looked up as the knob of the door to their chambers turned and Aragorn slipped into the room. His husband closed the door and leaned his forehead against the cool, smooth wood for a moment, sighing deeply. He had spent the entire day and evening in the company of his own advisors and visiting dignitaries from Rohan, sent by Eomer to discuss a trade agreement between the neighboring realms. Estel was exhausted by the endless negotiations. They had finally succeeded in coming to terms and the dignitaries would be on their way back to the Mark in the morn. Now all Aragorn wished to do was lose himself in the thick golden hair, soft lips, and strong arms of his mate.

Turning, he summoned a smile for his husband. "I have missed you, Legolas," he said, holding out his arms to his mate. His smile faltered as Legolas made no move to rise from his seat and return his proffered embrace. "What is it? What is wrong?" he asked. His frown deepened as he saw the stricken look on Legolas' face. "You told me that Elrond found nothing amiss!"

"I told you that Elrond found nothing to heal, Aragorn," Legolas corrected his mate, his voice soft and his eyes remaining focussed on the cuff of his robe. He bit his lip and uselessly tried to fight back the tears that welled up as his nerves finally stretched beyond the breaking point.

Aragorn came quickly to his mate's side, dropping to his knees beside the trembling Wood Elf. "Tell me," he ordered, his eyes full of concern for his husband. "What is it? What is wrong? Elves do not get ill, Legolas...and there are been no battles in which you may have been wounded." Estel's eyes suddenly grew wide as a thought occurred to him. "Has someone in my House harmed you? Is that it? Did someone attack you because you are mine?"

Legolas shook his head, his golden hair swaying against his back. "Nay, this is not the fault of any attack, Estel. It is...I am...Elrond has said that..." he stammered, unable to find the words to tell Aragorn of his condition.

"What then, Legolas? Please...tell me! I cannot bear not knowing what ails you!"

"I am...with child, Aragorn," Legolas finally said simply, briefly flicking his eyes up to meet the King's eyes.

"What?" Aragorn repeated. He chuckled a bit uncomfortably at what he thought a weak attempt at humor on his husband's part. "Legolas, do not attempt levity at a moment such as this...I am beside myself with worry for you!" he admonished the Wood Elf.

Legolas took a deep breath and steadied himself, then looked up and locked his eyes steadily with Aragorn's own. "I do not jest, Estel. I am with child. I know not how, nor does Lord Elrond, but the fact of the matter remains that life has begun within me. I carry your child, Estel."

Aragorn's lips again tilted in a bemused smile, but his expression froze as he gazed at the deathly serious expression on Legolas' face. His husband, while sweet and lighthearted at times, had never been given to elaborate jests. He felt his stomach drop as he realized that Legolas was entirely serious. "My...child? A babe? Legolas...how can this be? It is not possible! You cannot be...we cannot...we are both..."

Tears welled again in Legolas' soft blue eyes. "Aye, but true it is nonetheless, Estel." Legolas' shoulders slumped and his body shuddered as he finally gave into his fears, and he covered his fair face, sobbing quietly. "I know not how or why...only that it is..."

Instantly, Aragorn was on his feet, his arms pulling Legolas from his seat and clutching the Wood Elf tightly to his chest. He buried his bearded face in the thick golden tresses of his husband's hair, making soft sounds of comfort even as he struggled to absorb this new and startling information. "A babe..." he said softly, taking Legolas' cheeks between his calloused palms. He wiped at the tears that stained the Wood Elf's face with his thumbs, his look of shock replaced by one of tenderness. "A child...our child...ai! Legolas...our child!" Aragorn's face suddenly split into a wide grin. "Valar!" he swore, still grinning. "I know not the how or why of it, but...my love...a child!"

Legolas eyes filled anew at his husband's apparent joy over his revelation. "You...are not angry, Estel?" he asked timidly, biting his lower lip as he gazed up into the happy face of his husband.

"Angry? No, of course not...how can I be angry when a miracle that never would I have believed could possibly be has come to us? I had resigned myself to being the last of my line, Legolas...the last of the House of Isildur. Eru has seen fit to bless us in a way He has not any other in memory, Legolas! A child!" he laughed, hugging his husband tightly to his chest. His joy overflowed and he kissed Legolas deeply, then scooped him up into his arms and swung him around in a circle. "A child!" When at last he set Legolas upon his feet once more, he sobered as he was struck by a thought. "My love...the birth..." he whispered, suddenly overcome with fear for his beloved Wood Elf. "How will you be able to birth the babe?"

"Lord Elrond has explained it to me, Estel...he says that there is nothing to fear, and has offered to travel to Gondor for the birthing, should you wish to welcome him," Legolas replied softly, his lips still curled into a smile for his husband's acceptance.

"Aye, aye...anything to keep you and our child safe, my love!" Aragorn replied, as his eyes once again grew misty with the wonder of their miracle. He stepped back and knelt, looking up at Legolas, placing his hands gently on the slightly rounded belly of his mate. "Here? Our child grows here..." he whispered, his voice full of love. "Have you felt it move, yet? Is it well? How long will it be until the birth?" A myriad of questions passed his lips and a myriad more went unasked.

"Yes, my love...I feel it move even now. Our babe recognizes your touch and moves toward you," Legolas smiled, placing his hands over Aragorn's. "Can you feel that slight fluttering within me? That is our child, Estel. Lord Elrond has declared it healthy and hale and has predicted a mid-winter birth."

"You should be resting!" Aragorn said, suddenly overwhelmed with concern for his mate, and jumping up to his feet. "Lie down and I will have the servants fetch you...fetch you...what is it that you need? Food? Water? More pillows...you should have more pillows and warmer blankets..."

"Estel...I am fine," Legolas laughed as Aragorn picked him up and deposited him gently on their bed. "I want for nothing, except for your arms around me."

Happily, Aragorn bestowed upon Legolas his wish, laying next to him on the bed fully clothed, and wrapping himself around the Elf and the child he harbored within him. "There is only one problem, my love," he whispered, kissing Legolas' smooth brow. "How will I survive so many months of not touching you? I have thought of little else in the entire time you have been gone!" he chuckled, nuzzling Legolas' neck.

"Why do you think that you cannot touch me, Estel? Do you not want me now that I am...different?" Legolas asked softly, his fingers tracing the bearded jaw of his husband. "I will understand if you do not...my body is...changing, and is not what it once was..."

"Nay...no matter what changes are wrought by this, you are beautiful in my eyes, Legolas...utterly desirable...more so now than ever before! I want you now and would take you if it were not for my fears of hurting our child," Aragorn whispered, turning his head and kissing Legolas' palm. He again laid a gentle hand on his mate's belly, feeling for the life that lay within.

"You have not seen me under these robes. I am growing fat. I have the belly of a Hobbit!" Legolas demurred, chuckling despite his misgivings.

"You have a belly full of our child, Legolas...there is nothing in Arda more beautiful than that to me," Aragorn replied, shaking a finger in Legolas' face. "Never think that you are not desirable to me." He sighed and cupped Legolas' cheek. "Do you think if we are careful that we might..."

"Aye...I am certain it is safe, Estel...Lord Elrond mentioned nothing to the contrary. Make love to me, please? I need to feel you...I need to love you..." Legolas pleaded, smiling as his body responded to his husband's touch.

A smile was still on Legolas' lips as Aragorn leaned forward and captured them in a kiss fraught with love and desire.

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"He has flaunted his depravity in every corner of Minas Tirith since his coronation! Never did any of the House of Stewards ever abide such disgusting displays within the halls of the House of the King, and yet, this...this...Ranger...would take a male as his mate! Openly! Without shame!" Barion hissed, his facing reddening with outrage. "It can only be the influence of that Archer from the East that twists and perverts our King's good judgement. Now, as if it were not enough to force us to watch as he pretends the Elf is a maid, tongues wag that they have managed to rip apart the very fabric of nature by somehow begetting that pointy-eared deviant with child! Evil has come to roost in Gondor...it is only dark powers that might have wrought such a depravity! Are we to sit idly by and allow a misbegotten spawn, conceived in evil, to be birthed within the walls of our beloved city?" Barion slammed his palm down on the table as he finished his tirade, glaring at each of the other men who sat with him.

Another man, grizzled and gray-haired, shrugged his shoulders at the incensed Advisor to the King. "He is not the first to prefer a cock to a hen, Barion...and I doubt if he will be the last. As for the child - if there is one - well... what harm can come of it? All babes are born innocent. Perhaps it is the fact that Aragorn looks less to you for your advice than did Denethor that angers you, Barion. Are you certain that it is not simply revenge that spurs your actions?"

"What spurs my actions is the welfare of Gondor! What harm, do you ask? Do you think that this...abomination that the Elf will birth could possibly be normal? Think about it! It is the spawn of two males! It will likely be disfigured, or dimwitted...or both! And no infant conceived in such a foul manner could possibly be innocent! Mark my words, it will be born sprouting horns and hooves! What King shall our children live to see take the throne of Gondor?" Barion argued, spreading his hands out before him.

"If it is so greatly deformed, then it will likely not survive the birth...and perhaps the Elf will not as well. I cannot imagine what it would be like to pass a living being from my person..." still another man ventured, shuddering at the thought.

"We cannot leave it to chance. Should the thing survive and its parent as well, it will be far too difficult to destroy it. Elves are notoriously clever and strong...we would be hard pressed to kill them both without drawing attention to ourselves from the King and his Guards, and Aragorn, bewitched as he is by this pointy-eared demon, will no doubt spring to his defense. No...we must act now, while the Elf is slow and disabled by his condition. Are we agreed?" Balion asked, looking again at each man in his turn. Seeing none protest - at least not openly - he said, "So be it. As Chief Advisor to King Elessar, it falls to my hand to see it done. The Elf, along with the monster he harbors in his gut will be dead by the next new moon."

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Legolas lay on his side on the bed, pillows shoved under various parts of his anatomy in an effort to ease the pressure and pain that beat relentlessly at his spine. His belly had swelled to nearly unbelievable proportions, and showed no signs of stopping as the child within him grew. No voluminous robes could conceal his altered shape now. His belly was huge, round, and his body protested its continued enlargement every moment of every day. His legs ached from the extra weight he carried, and his feet were but a dim memory to his eyes. In short, Legolas was miserable.

His beautiful blue eyes had grown shadowed, the dark smudges painted beneath them caused by lack of rest; his hair grew listless and dull and his appetite waned so as to be nearly nonexistent. Only Aragorn's command forced him to pass food through his lips, but what little nourishment he managed to eat and hold was used for the child within him, and his body grew weak and tired.

The babe kicked often and hard, its tiny fists and feet sometimes clearly visible through the thin shell of Legolas' skin that encapsulated it. As tired and pain-ridden as the Elf was he still often found the strength to smile, thinking that a babe that kicked and punched so diligently would surely be born a warrior. Still, Legolas found himself wishing for the day his babe would finally be born.

Word had been sent to Imladris asking Lord Elrond to make haste for Gondor, as Legolas' time drew near. Mid-winter was nearly upon them, and from the size of Legolas' girth as his belly expanded, Aragorn worried that if the babe were not born soon Legolas' belly might very well explode, having no more skin left to stretch. Plus, although the King made no mention of it to his mate, Legolas knew that he was concerned over the Elf's health as the babe continued to drain him physically. Luckily, Lord Elrond was due to arrive at any time, although that knowledge did not keep the King of Gondor from pacing continually with worry.

He had been engaged in just such an activity, Legolas watching him as walked back and forth in front of the bed, his hands clasped behind his back and a worried frown on his handsome face, when a young squire had rapped at their bedchamber door.

"Your Majesty," the young man had said when the King had given him leave to speak, "a party of strangers, thought to be Elves, approaches the Great Gate!"

"Aragorn...it must be Lord Elrond! You should go personally to greet him," Legolas said softly. He knew it would be difficult for Aragorn to face Elrond after all that had transpired between the two of them and Arwen, but he felt it necessary.

"He will be brought in, Legolas...I have no wish to leave you."

"Estel...you have agreed that what he did was in your best interest, as well as Arwen's...are you not happy with me?" Legolas asked, raising himself up on an elbow.

"Of course...I love you, you know this...we are having a child..." Aragorn demurred, reaching out to stroke Legolas' hair. "I am no longer angry, Legolas...I just wish to stay with you."

"He comes to help me and our child, Aragorn. You have a responsibility to greet him yourself. His is your foster-father, Estel...go...see to his welcome personally," Legolas urged, smiling up at his husband.

"Very well. You will be alright then if I leave you?"

"Of course I will be alright! What could happen to me, lying here in our bedchambers?" Legolas laughed, then covered his belly with his hands as the baby kicked. He laughed again, saying that if Aragorn didn't hurry it might be likely that the babe would kick him out.

With a last loving look at his mate, Aragorn left the bedchambers, hurrying through the halls on his way out to the courtyard and further on to the stables. Rounding a corner he found himself face to face with his Chief Advisor. "Barion, I ride to meet Elrond Half-Elven at the Great Gate. I plan to greet him, then bring him directly back to my bedchambers so that Legolas might be examined. See to it that my mate is not disturbed in my absence," he ordered as he continued on his way.

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Barion stared hard at the retreating back of the King of Gondor, his thick black brows knitting in a fierce scowl. Try as he might, at no time during the months past had he been able to fathom a way to kill the Elf. There were no guards he felt he could trust enough to bring into his confidence for all seemed loyal to the King, and surprisingly, most had grown fond of the Elf as well. It would be up to him and him alone to deal the killing blow, but the opportunity had not yet presented itself where he could do it and still remain in the favor of the King.

Now time was running out quickly. Once the Healer from Imladris arrived at Legolas' side, all chance of killing the Elf would be gone, and the abomination that was housed in his body would be born. Barion had no other choice...he must see it done now, this instant, and the consequences be damned. If he were to forfeit his life for his deed, then so be it. Unbeknownst to Barion or any others in his circle, the zealot had been replaced by a madman, uncaring of his own fate.

With a grin that many would have called evil had they seen it, Barion fingered the dagger he wore on his belt and headed toward the King's bedchambers.

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Legolas looked up curiously as the bedchamber door opened without warning. Only Aragorn ever dared enter the royal bedchambers without leave, and he could not possibly have met, greeted, and returned with Lord Elrond so quickly. He frowned as he watched Barion enter the room, silent and scowling. Barion, although Aragorn's Advisor, never failed to leave a quiver of unease in Legolas' gut whenever the Elf and he were in the same room, and the man had not passed a kind word to the Prince since the night of the coronation. Legolas did not trust the man, although he chose not to speak of his misgivings with Aragorn. What mind Barion had to visit Legolas now, especially without announcing his arrival, boded only ill as far as the Elf was concerned. His muscles tensed and his hands instinctively covered his belly as the Man turned to glare at him.

"What do you want, Barion? Aragorn has gone to the Great Gate to greet Lord Elrond of Imladris," Legolas asked the Advisor. "He will be returning at any moment," he added, feeling his heart begin to thud as the Advisor took yet another step closer to the bed.

"Certainly you did not think that the people of Gondor would stand idly by and allow you to birth an abomination as heir to the crown, did you?" Barion snarled, baring his teeth at the Elf. "Never would we allow such an evil to take a single breath! I am here to make certain that your misbegotten whelp never sees the light of day!" With startling speed, Barion whipped his dagger from his belt and lunged at the terrified Elf on the bed.

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"Estel! Quickly!" Elrond screamed as the Elf Lord galloped his horse at breakneck speak past the surprised guards at the Great Gate, meeting the King halfway across the courtyard. "It is Legolas! Something is wrong!"

Aragorn blanched as Elrond's words reached him, but he did not hesitate to question the Elf Lord known for his gift of foresight. Instead he turned his horse at once, the beast rearing. Aragorn urged his steed into its fasted gait, pounding its hooves through the streets of Minas Tirith, heading as fast as his horse could fly back to the House of the King, followed closely by Elrond Half-Elven.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Legolas twisted his body, shielding his belly from the crazed Advisor as Barion ran at him holding a gleaming blade in his upheld hand. The Elf tried to roll as he screamed for help, but his condition and his weakened state kept his reflexes slow, and he barely managed to shift positions fast enough so that the blow of his attacker, meant to plunge directly into Legolas' abdomen instead found its mark in his upper back.

The pain lanced through the Wood Elf, but he recognized it only on a deeper level of consciousness. Legolas was too far infused with adrenaline to notice much beyond the all-encompassing fear for the life of his child. Bellowing, he struck out with a forearm, connecting with the fragile bones in Barion's face, shattering the Advisor's nose. Still the insane Advisor kept on, yanking on the blade that had been sunk to its haft in the flesh of Legolas' back, and poised it high over his head to deal another blow.

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Aragorn burst through the door to his bedchambers and froze for a heartbeat at the tableau that loomed before him. Legolas was sprawled out on the red-splattered bed and his trusted Advisor, Barion, was positioned over him holding a knife. It took only the slight twitch of the Advisor's shoulder muscles as he began to drop his arm along its deadly path to spurn Aragorn into motion. In but another heartbeat Estel reached the bed and took hold of his Advisor's head between his strong hands. With a quick twist, Aragorn made certain that the man would never again harm any that Estel loved.

Dropping Barion's lifeless form to the ground, Estel turned to his husband. Legolas lay prone on his back, his golden hair fanned out over a sea of crimson as the blood from his wound soaked into the down-filled mattress. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and Aragorn quaked as he looked to Legolas' belly, scanning it for movement from their babe, but saw none.

"Valar, no!" Aragorn cried, reaching for his mate. A pair of strong hands pulled him away, spinning him around to face a pair of stern gray eyes. "Go fetch Gondor's healers, Estel. I will need them. Hurry!" Elrond ordered, his voice calm but firm, pushing Aragorn toward the door. "If he still breathes then there is hope...go quickly!"

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Legolas' eyes fluttered open and Aragorn's face, his brow knitted in concern, gradually swam into focus. His shoulder ached mightily, as his did his belly. More than the pain, though, he felt odd...hollow...empty. The Elf's eyes grew wide, then filled with tears. "Estel...no, oh no...please...not the babe..." he cried softly, his tears spilling over as his heart broke into a million pieces. Barion must have killed their child...Legolas felt certain that that was the cause of the empty feeling - it was the absence of life where it had thrived for so long within him.

"The babe is born and is fine...do not weep, my love!" Estel whispered, smiling and wiping the tears from Legolas' cheek. "Would you like to see him, Legolas? Would you like to greet your son?"

"Son?" Legolas repeated as Aragorn lay a tiny bundle wrapped tightly in soft blankets in Legolas' arm. One of the Elf's shoulders was bandaged, his right arm held immobile by strips of linen, but the other now held a miracle...his and Estel's miracle...their son. "Our son...oh, he is beautiful, Estel!" Legolas marvelled, looking down into the tiny face as the infant peacefully slumbered. His eyes scanned the wispy fair hair and pale, rosy skin of his babe, counting eyes and fingers, and noting the delicately pointed tips of his miniscule ears. "Perfect...he is perfect! Estel..." he said, but could not continue as he was overcome with joy.

Aragorn grinned happily, settling himself on the edge of the bed. He reached out a single finger and stroked his son's downy cheek. "Yes, he is perfect. After I...disposed of Barion, Elrond sent me to fetch the healers," he said, flicking his eyes up toward Legolas' before returning to his son's face. "You were gravely injured, my love...bleeding heavily, and I feared for your life as well as the life of our little one. By the time I returned with them, Lord Elrond had staunched your wound and delivered our son. He placed him in my arms when I returned, and I fear I have not let him go since!" He flicked his eyes up toward his mate's once more, and was dismayed to see Legolas' blue eyes darkening with rage.

"He tried to kill our son, Estel! He called this perfect, innocent little being an abomination! He told me that the people of Gondor would not suffer such to take a single breath!" Legolas said in a flat voice, meeting Aragorn's eyes with a smoldering look. "If that is the sentiment of the people of your realm, then...as much as I love you...I will sail with our son to Aman. I will not risk his safety here, nor subject him to hatred simply because of the circumstances of his birth."

"Nay, Legolas! Do not speak this way...I fear it was only a few men who plotted harm. Since word was spread of his birth, many have come forward bearing gifts and glad tidings...I vow to you that I will find whoever was involved with Barion and deliver the same fate they sought to bestow on our son. They will die at my hands, Legolas," Estel swore, placing his hand over his heart as he made his oath. "Please do not think of leaving me...I could not bear to be parted from you or our son."

As quickly as the rage had swept over Legolas was as quickly as it left him. He realized that Estel would never knowingly allow harm to come to their child, nor to him. He trusted in his mate enough to know also that he would see his oath through to the finish. Nodding silently, Legolas turned to Elrond.

"My Lord Elrond...how can I thank you for not only saving my life, but for delivering my son? I am forever in your debt, my Lord."

"Nonsense, Legolas," Elrond replied, accepting the Wood Elf's heartfelt thanks, but dismissing his indebtedness with a wave of his hand and a smile. "He is a hearty babe...and a hungry one at that. You might wish to feed him now."

"Feed him?" Legolas repeated, arching his brow and looking down at babe he held in his arm. "How, my Lord? I have not the equipment!"

"Not as generous as an elleth's, perhaps, but the necessary parts are there," Elrond laughed softly. He reached down and adjusted Legolas' robe so that a single, rosy nipple, tiny yet peaked, was exposed. A single drop of moisture clung to its tip. "Eru would not have given you a child and not the means to feed it, Legolas."

Sighing in relief, Legolas put his babe to his chest, and from the smile that graced the beautiful ellon's face, Elrond knew that the babe suckled. He smiled again, and then turned to Aragorn. "You have a wonderful family, Estel. Care for them well until the end of your days, and then send them to me. I vow to care for them on the Blessed Shores of Aman until the End of Days, when, Eru willing, we shall all meet again."

Elf and Man embraced, and then Elrond slipped from the room and was soon on his way back to Imladris. Estel would not lay eyes on the great Elf Lord again, for a scant few years later, before his child was fully walking and talking, a White Ship would bear Elrond and the other Ring Bearers to Valinor.

Settling himself down next to Legolas and his son, Estel felt as though his heart might burst with joy. He slid an arm carefully around his mate, mindful of Legolas' injury, and leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, my love," he whispered as he watched his son suckle, "thank you for this most wonderous gift. May I ever be worthy of you, and of him."

Legolas lay his head on the strong shoulder of his husband, contentment flooding him. "What is his name, Estel? What will you call your son?"

"Do you not have a preference, Legolas? He is your son as well!"

"No...naming him is my gift to you, Estel. Choose a name, but choose it wisely. The name should tell of the man-to-be as well as the child-that-is," Legolas replied.

Aragorn thought hard as he stared down at his son, one of his own large fingers wrapped by tiny fist. Finally, he nodded, almost to himself, and said, "So that the world will forever know the circumstances of his miraculous birth...he will be known as Eldarion, Son of the Eldar."

The End