To Live Again: The Road to War {Lord of the Rings Fanfiction}|

10. Ada's Belief

I watch intently as Calanon gently pats the water droplets from his hand using an ivory cloth. I study the material as it flips and flops without very much effort, I imagine it to be a rough sort of cloth. I imagine that is why his hands are so raw and chapped looking, I absently think that he should use a cream to soften the calluses, I should have one made for him. He quietly places the material back by the bowl, and I let my eyes rest on the splashes of water, coloured a rosy pink. It would be such a pretty colour if I did not know it was from my own blood.

Thranduil sits by the door, his head in his hands; he hasn't spoken in so long. I would think he was asleep if not for the shuddering his shoulders make, giving away a silent sob. Oropher is by him, his broad hand placed squarely in between his son's shoulders blades. Every time Thranduil lets out one of those strange sobs, Oropher's hand twitches in response and soothingly makes a circular motion, just the once mind you like an unconscious gesture. Gilron sits to my left, I don't know who sent for her, but she holds my hand in hers. She squeezes it every so often, but our eyes never meet, like me she intently watches Calanon or sometimes her eyes flicker to her King's and something painful passes between them.

"What is your opinion my lord?" Gilron asks the head healer quite formally, her voice very quiet. This question seems to stir something in Thranduil, and he lifts his head briefly from his hands, his eyes are brimming with tears, but he doesn't let them fall, he wouldn't be so unwise. He looks intently to Calanon, whatever the healer says now will determine if he should let free the cascade of tears he is working so hard to keep locked away.

"It is hard to say," Calanon begins slowly and very carefully as he comes to stand by my right side. He looks down at me with such sympathy and hurt, that it is hard for me to look in his eyes, but I won't be broken, not yet. He takes my hand and rubs his thumb along the top of it, what does this mean?

"Is..." Thranduil begins in a voice cracked by emotion, he clears his throat and returns his eyes to the ground. He cannot look in Calanon's eyes. "Is it so...I cannot..." he stammers and looks angrily into the distance, Oropher firmly clasps his shoulder and murmurs something that I don't catch.

"Presently the infant lives," Calanon speaks and I feel my hands clamp tightly around Gilron's, she looks at me now and squeezes in return. "Whether Clara can carry the baby to term is unfortunately a question I cannot answer."

"But the baby lives?" Oropher asks and his eyes lock with mine hopefully.

"For the meantime yes," my old healer friend reiterates. "But it has threatened to abort, and these things happen. With the trauma that the Princess has been through, it is a miracle she did not bleed sooner."

"What hope do you give it?" I say suddenly and everyone looks to me, even Calanon jumps in surprise because I have not spoken in so long. He doesn't answer so I try again; "What hope do you give my son or daughter?"

"It is not hope, my dear Clara, but nature, what happens is what the Valar wills," Calanon speaks plainly and I respect this.

"But there is hope that the child will live?" I say again, as evenly as I am able.

"There is always hope," the healer tells me with a sympathetic look. "But it is a whimsical notion, once these things happen it is almost assured. It is alright Clara, you have conceived once, it means you shall again."

"I am afraid you misunderstand me," I reply as I try to sit up the bed, and Gilron rushes to help me. "Calanon I will do whatever necessary to keep my child alive, if that means giving part of myself, I will do it without a second thought. Now what must I do?"

"Clara, this-"

"What must I do Calanon?" I snap back before he can finish his sentence. He pauses and observes me for a moment, before offering the knowledge I wish of him.