Never Offend the Lady

Title: Never Offend the Lady (8/9) NC17 mpreg
Author/Email: sandyg writearts2@e...
Pairing: Elrond/Legolas, Elladan/Elrohir/Glorfindel

Rating: NC17 mpreg

Summary: Elrond 1st person POV. The blessed events finally take place!

Feedback: Sure

Content: Four icky hysterical mpreg births.

Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah. You can’t get much more fictional or sillier than this scenario.

********************************************

Oh by the Old God’s Blood this was sheer insanity!!!

Thank you, you vicious old bitch. Make my dear sons go into labor together. Are you watching? Is this what you waited for, complete bedlam? You damned sadistic... stop. Calm down. Don’t waste your energy on that cantankerous witch.

I sat in what we called the birthing room. Mithrandir and Thertara had set up a lower level room with four beds just in case complete birthing mayhem broke lose all at once. By the Valar please, half the mayhem proved horrible enough. Sitting between two of the beds I patiently held my son’s strong hands, trying to offer them comfort during their birth stress. Instead I offered myself one major headache.

But I was so pleased I hadn’t been the first experiment. This way I could savor a taste of what wickedness awaited me.

I also prayed that I didn’t make such a stunning screaming spectacle of myself. Was birth really that painful to warrant all this whimpering and screaming? Gods, my sons, have a little courage. They almost embarrassed me. Still, I couldn’t pass true judgment on them since I didn’t know their pain level. Ha, that event would come soon enough.

After endless hours I had finally determined that Elladan’s frantic screams reached a slightly higher octave than poor Elrohir’s pathetic screams. I still determinedly sat between them, my fingers grasping their strong slender hands. If my old bones weren’t crushed into putty soon I would be surprised.

Intense old Mithrandir patiently watched the loud sweaty action, he trying to determine exactly when he needed to cut. Thertara had no problem letting the old wizard perform the final brutal work. From the way Thertara was quivering I felt much happier that Mithrandir had studied up on what to do with us. Or what he thought he needed to do for us.

Glorfindel encouraged and soothed, he caressing sweating foreheads or supplying comforting kisses. He had grown quite fond of my sons. I admired him for putting up with their endless quirks. I also appreciated that Glorfindel left me alone. It was fine to have him back as a good friend, not as a demanding lover.

Mithrandir leaned toward Elladan. "It’s close now, so close. I can feel the spell waning; Elladan will be first. Thertara, apply the salve now." In preparation for the final slicing Mithrandir had thoughtfully created abingbing herbal salve. Thertara swiftly coated my twins’ sweating flesh with the concoction.

"The protective spell had ceased! It’s time!" Mithrandir finally urged his blade forward into Elladan’s straining flesh. Ohhh. I briefly closed my eyes. Seeing Elladan’s agony made my gentle Elrohir pass out. Elladan gave in, he shuddering and falling limp. My ears gave thanks for the peace.

Cruel as it seemed the order suited my soul. Even though he savored physical abuse I didn’t think Elrohir wanted to be sliced open.

I knew I didn’t relish the act. So this is what awaited me. Maybe I could stay pregnant for oh, a few more years. I don’t care if the hole was relatively small I didn’t want to be cut open!

My relentlessly merry Glorfindel played nursemaid, he accepting Elladan’s child into a fluffy towel. Staring down he broke into wild laughter before winking at me. "So I hoped your sons thought up a few feminine names, you old goat. This is a stunning little lady." A waiting sub-Healer took the chishe she tenderly washing the babe’s bloody skin.

As a pale shaky Thertara skillfully stitched up Elladan’s small slit Mithrandir carefully worked on the limp Elrohir. When he drew back Mithrandir snorted with wicked chuckles. Glorfindel winked at me again.

Oh please, I already knew.

Damn, I knew this would happen. Two big, perfectly lovely, healthy baby girls. Flawless blue eyes, silky light blonde hair. I knew it.

That evil wicked bitch had to be giggling while watching at her Mirror. I childishly stuck my tongue out. Glorfindel looked at me oddly before laughing at me.

Of course my sons hadn’t bothered thinking about names so we chose Betha and Cerethain.

********************************************

A day later my poor Legolas twitched, he widening his anxious blue eyes at me as I sat alongside him in bed reading an ancient scroll. "Lover, I..." He shuddered in fresh pain, his slender hands flying up to hold his enormous belly.

Gasping in alarm I dropped the scroll. "My love, don’t be brave! Are you in labor?"

Panting lightly Legolas winced again. "I... think I have been for a few hours. I’ve been trying to be calm but the strange pains are becoming increasingly worse."

Why was my sweet Legolas so stubborn? I tried not to yell at him. "And this is something you planned on keep secret from me? Why? You sweet idiot! Why did you..." You old fool, stop scolding Legolas and get him down to the birthing room now!

Rolling off the bed I waddled across the room. Opening the bedroom door I rang our birth bell, alerting the complex to the next birth. Holding Legolas close I slowly herded his rolling weight across the room. Between his pain and his massive belly my poor lumbering lover could barely move, his feet shuffling on the floor. This was ridiculous. As I awkwardly guided us onto the balcony a group of our friends arrived led my Glorfindel. Thank the Star! They gently carried Legolas down the stairs.

Glorfindel grinned at me, he sliding his muscular arm around my huge girth. "Shall I carry you, my fine fat friend?"

"No you may not." But I didn’t push his supportive arm away from my swaying weight.

Mithrandir, Thertara and five sub-Healers were already in the birthing room. No words were needed. With Glorfindel’s help I slid up on the bed, we bracing Legolas between my legs. Leg col collapsed back on my round belly. My brave lover whimpered and moaned, I caressing his hair. "It will be all right, my lover. Your labor will be swift because I wish it to be so."

Bah, I had never been so wrong in all my ancient life; well, I had been vastly wrong about Celeborn but that was of my own stupid decision.

This ugly event I could do nothing about. I hated feeling so helpless!

One day passed.

Two days passed.

The third horrible day arrived. I only left the bed to relieve myself. I couldn’t even eat. My ass grew numb from sitting still for so long in this distinctly uncomfortable position. My body was coated in Legolas’ birth sweat. My own pregnant body ached.

I was not a happy lord. If Galadriel suddenly appeared before me I would seize Mithrandir’s blade and slash her scrawny throat.

Poor Mithrandir felt beside himself from anxiety. I felt worried since the old wizard hadn’t slept in so long. I prayed to the Valaat hat his skilled hands would still function as needed.

My poor brave lover rested in my arms, he releasing soft pained whimpers. Somehow through all his agony Legolas had never screamed. I was impressed. Hold, I suddenly realized that Legolas hadn’t moved in quite a long time. Stroking his sweat-soaked mane I murmured to him. "Legolas, my precious love, are you still with me?"

Legolas’ frail melodic voice reminded me of a dying flower. "Mmmm yes, my lover I... feel so odd, so numb almost. I... think I want to climb a beech tree and feel the sun rise, yes, watch the brilliant moon and the stars dance in the sky, yes, dance with them. I want to touch the curved roof of the sky, yesss, I..." Legolas’ delirious words trailed off into a gasping whimper.

Thank you, Galadriel, you wicked, evil bitch. Why were you making such a sweet gentle creature suffer so much? Since I didn’t have her skinny neck to throttle my hands curled into impotent fists.

Mithrandir twitched in startled surprise. "Thertara, apply the salve now! Quick, you fool! The spell is almost gone!"

Thank the Valar! Finally. "Hold on, my brave love. We’re almost done now."

"Yes! We’re ready!" Smiling maniacally Mithrandir performed his delicate cutting. Legolas stiffened against me before he passed out. I almost followed him.

The final bloody result: two more beautiful golden girls named Gelaiah and Perfnaur. Of course Legolas had chosen names for both occurrences. Once my lover returned to consciousness he cuddled his glorious new babies while cooing in astonished delight.

What a strange young Elf.

********************************************

So why was I still pregnant? So far four lovely girls had invaded my so-called little backwater community. Of course Elladan could care less what had sprang from his womb. Elrohir acted a touch concerned over his child, but he was far more ecstatic to have his sweet, wild Elladan back.

I actually felt that Elladan somehow managed to disassociate himself from what had happened. For his own sanity he chose not to accept that he had birthed a child. I wasn’t going to push Elladan on the matter, since he suddenly returned to being the merry son I knew and loved. Even Glorfindel remarked he loved this returned Elladan even more. Those three made quite a sexy trio.

I never asked Glorfindel if he liked whipping or spanking my perverse boys. Curious as I was I couldn’t ask. No. None of my business. Ha, maybe I should have spanked them when they were children although if their genes were already in place then they would have acted naughty just to... oh stop. Gods, I swear pregnancy made my ancient mind wander in the oddest manner.

Gentle Legolas acted thrilled about his girls, but he felt vastly upset that Galadriel hadn’t supplied him with working breasts. Thertara had already found hearty human wet nurses, they overjoyed to suckle the beautiful infants. Legolas jealously watched the nursing process. Yes, now I knew my lover was a strange creature. Lovely, kind, sweet but slightly mad. Why would he want to nurse infants? Why would he want milk-swollen breasts? Brrr. Nasty.

In truth it didn’t matter that Elladan and Elrohir held little interest in their children; Legolas showered affection on all four babies. For my part I thought they were lovely children, but four females? After what Arwen had done to me I wasn’t keen on lavishing affection on four females who might grow up and stab me in my emotional heart.

No. With Legolas here as their surrogate, dare I say it, mother, I felt that these children would be loving and tolerant. I just couldn’t wait for when they asked who their mothers had been. Oh, that thought gave me a nagging headache. Well, I had a few years to dream up the proper way to tell them. If I didn’t make the announcement, someone else in the wonderful, oh so considerate Elven world would be more than delighted to supply the children with the bizarre truth. Ha, I could imagine evil Galadriel cheerfully doing the honors.

By the Valar, these four girls were her great grandchildren. Ha, at least Galadriel had no true claim on the baby inside me

But she did have a claim on the child that Celeborn had birthed. We finally heard the news that my spineless ex-loprodproduced a baby girl before promptly going into what was described as a deep retreat from the world. That meant Galadriel was going to bring up my daughter.

The poor child. She was already doomed. I vaguely considered asking if I could raise the baby here with the others but I knew Galadriel would say no just to spite me.

Vile old pretentious bitch.

Two more weeks passed without my heavy burden moving. One sunny afternoon I rose from my usual nap, I sinking back to the bed as a strange pain finally gripped me. By the Gods ouch!

Hearing my annoyed gasp Legolas’ cool slim hands held me close against his long body. "Is it..."

Laughing ruefully I nodded. "Finally."

Bundling me into a robe Legolas rang the bell before helping me down the stairs. Ouch, arrg, by the Gods this felt painful! You bitch, you foul old nasty evil scrawny bitch! No wonder my sons screamed. Now I understood. This hurt!

Legolas gently settled me into the bed, the baby team arriving. T sur surprise my sons sat on my bed. Elrohir cheerfully grinned at me. "Father! Ready to join the male baby brigade?"

"I have no choice!"

Winking playfully Glorfindel patted my cheek. "Elladan, Elrohir, care to make bets on how long your Father’s labor lasts? I think our Galadriel saved the best birth for last."

"Shut up."

"Ohh, he’s a nasty old thing, isn’t he? Look, boys, I bet four days."

Elladan laughed at my sour expression. "Five."

My gentle Elrohir moaned softly. "I hope no more than three. Legolas, I have no idea how you survived the pain for so long."

Legolas caressed my long hair, he assuming a comforting position behind me. I rested back against his slightly rounded belly. "My only true love, I shall pray for one swift day."

"Mithrandir, damn your wrinkled, old, incompetent, spotty hide, are you sure that Galadriel’s wicked spell is still on me? Or are you simply too damned stupid or incoherent or insane not to realize that I am more than ready to have this stubborn child taken from me?"

Shaking his head Mithrandir managed to sound level. "Elrond, old friend, trust me, after three births and four babies I know what is happening. You are not ready for my blade."

I glared sharp pointy darts at him. After enduring six wretched days of feeling slicing pains rip through me I felt ill-tempered, and to be honest, bored witless. To my pride’s satisfaction I had done nothing more than groan once at a truly wicked jab. Still, it was degrading sitting here panting, sweaty, naked, bloated and helpless. Oh, someday that smug old bitch would pay for this epic joke. I swore I would track down a clever spell to make vain Galadriel look her real age. Ha! Good, that gruesome image strengthened my nerve.

Poor sweet Legolas never left my side except to relive himself. He was so strong-willed! Unfortunately he looked exhausted, dark purple circles hing ing the delicate skin under his wide glazed eyes. I told my lover to go sleep but he refused my urgings.

I loved him ever more.

My sons casually wandered in and out, Elladan cheerfully thanking me for letting him win the bet. I almost lunged from the bed and punched his firm chin. Bah, who was I kidding; I couldn’t even roll to my side.

Another steady bolt of fire raced through me, making me twitch in pain. "This is utterly ridiculous! This stubborn child should be seeing the light of day! What in Mordor’s foul name it is doing in there? Building itself a new Rivendell? Does the willful brat need a home of its own?"

Mithrandir shook his head in mute frustration. I didn’t like how wild-eyed he looked. Bah, I think the old wizard had taken something to help him stay awake.

Glorfindel lovingly patted my wet cheek. "Courage, my tough old warrior. Your epic birth battle inspires me to sing lively tales of our old battles."

I snarled at the fair golden Elf. "Look, you silly old fool, if you start singing I’ll rip your stupid throat out with my fingers. I will not tolerate any singing!"

Murmuring softly Legolas caressed my wet face. "Shhh, shh now. My love, please calm down."

"Shut up." Now that sounded nasty. "Oh my sweet Legolas..."

Legolas’ long fingers stroked my cheeks. "Shh. Come, my brave gray-eyed glory, concentrate on your new child. Think on how much you want him to see your fair Rivendell. He will love your grand design."

I laughed in hysterical disbelief. "Ha! He? He?? This baby is going to be another female, just wait and see! Galadriel is giving us all girls! In a few years no male Elf in Rivendell will be safe from their lusts."

Legolas patiently tutted at me, his slender hands still stroking me. "And so what’s wrong with that? My dear little girls are going to be warrior goddesses; yes, the wise poets will write odes to their fierce bravery and high beauty. But I don’t know, I think this stubborn creature may well be a male."

"This foul thing must be a full grown dragon! Maybe a huge Orc! It delights in causing me nothing but brutal pain!" Hold on, old one, you sounded hysterical. Very bad for the image. Frowning I tried descending into a tranquil state. Do not rant. Do not scream. You are an Elf lord. You are powerful.

Ha, you were in so much wretched pain that you wanto bio bite a hole in your own huge belly just to end this epic misery. Galadriel, keep watch. One dark night I was going to break your stiff, skinny neck, yes, I would yank your head free by that pretentious wavy hair and stuff your regal head up into your own most-likely dried up female opening. I would rip your skinny limbs off and laughingly feed them to Orcs. I would....arrrgh. Do NOT moan. You are strong. You are a powerful Lord.

I wanted to die.

Incoherent hours later Mithrandir cried out in giddy excitement, he dangerously waving his knife around. Thertara ducked in alarm. "Ha, yes, the wicked bitch is lifting the spell! The salve, quick, you moron, apply it NOW!"

Thertara barely had time to apply the numbing salve when Mithrandir shoved him aside. How odd; Mithrandir’s knife entering my straining flesh felt strangely liberating. I remained awake, watching as a large wailing child was yanked from my rent flesh. Oh, seeing so much of my own blood made me dizzy.

"Ha! Legolas wins! The beautiful child holds a mighty lance between his chubby legs!" Glorfindel chortled in joy.

How odd. Galadriel let me bear a son?

Why? What did this mean?

Oh you old idiot don’t worry about it.

My tired eyes lacked sharp focus. "Legolas? Is he lovely? Is he healthy and whole?" The dark thought that perhaps Galadriel had harmed this child while he hid inside me gripped my woozy brain.

Legolas started weeping in unrestrained joy, his long fingers caressing my cheeks. "My dear gray-eyed glory he is a wondrous child. He’s utterly healthy and whole, yes, he’s brawny and dark with beautiful, clear, wise gray eyes. He’s a glorious marvel just like you."

Feeling increasingly dizzier I barely croaked out a name. "Estel."

Smiling Legolas leaned down toward my lips. "My love?"

"E-Estel. It’s the name I had chosen for Arwen if she had been male so... Estel."

Glorfindel smiled broadly. "A fine name. Hail, little Estel. May you change the world."

Everything suddenly looked blurry. For the first time in my ancient life I passed out.

********************************************

Word quickly spread of the amazing new additions to Rivendell. Four lovely golden girls and a dark handsome boy. Once again the Hobbits definitely made Rivendell their favorite holiday hideaway. They arrived in an endless stream to see the miracle children. The excited Halflings brought us gifts of exotic food, quaint carved protective totems and other precious gifts. How odd; I felt they thought the children were a race of saviors and they presented them offerings.

If so we had a race of four beautiful females and one male. Estel came with his own golden harem. If he took after my sons and I he’d have to look elsewhere for love. Well, part of me thought Legolas might solace him. He already spoiled the young mite. And who knew how my lively sons would feel about their young brother?

All the overwhelming attention directed at the children amused me. Little annoyed me these days. I was in a much more stable mindset because yes, finally I was normal, well, still a little swollen, well, be honest, plenty swollen around the middle, but after ten months there was no life growing in me.

I never told anyone I vaguely missed the unusual feeling. Ha, there were just certain bizarre thoughts you kept to yourself.