The Exile's Daughter

Hope and Old Woes

"Well done, Ness. No woman would dispute that decision, I'll tell you that for nothing!"

In the interest of taking things slowly with Legolas, I had resolved to spend more time with the other women of the camp. I felt I had rather neglected their friendship, but I was determined to remedy that wrong. However, at that moment with all of them gazing, so amused, at my reddening face, I was rather regretting my efforts.

"What do I say to that? Thank you?"

Firiel laughed. "You could do a lot worse. I have never been one for blonds, but well..." She raised her eyes up to the window of the meeting hut, where I knew Legolas sat outside drawing up a guard timetable with the Sons of Elrond and Aragorn. He was much improved from a few days ago and could now manage to walk around on his own, though we both had strict instructions to stay within the borders of the camp.

"Well, some of us are lucky." I laughed along with the others to recover some dignity.

Ancalimë moved to speak, but at that moment Imrathiel pottered into the room, clutching a cloth doll in her small fist. I smiled when she deposited herself into my lap with a plonk. Though it had been some months since my arrival, her fascination with me had not waned. 

"Legolas says hello." She said proudly.

"Are you a messenger now?" Firiel laughed. "How very grown up of you."

"He's cooking."

"Goodness." I laughed. "Pigs do fly!"

Ancalimë and Firiel laughed along with me. "I heard that!" His indignant voice floated through the window, but we only laughed louder. Legolas himself popped his head through the door then, mouthing something rude to me when Imrathiel was turned the other way. I giggled and he winked. "I am making your favourite."

"Rabbit stew?" I asked. 

His eyes lit up to see me smile. "Tar returned with plenty, so we will all eat well for once."

He disappeared from the doorway again, waving to Imrathiel sweetly. She curled up silently in my lap, leaning on my shoulder and letting me stroke her dark hair. "Are you tired, vinime?" She nodded, and I shifted her more comfortably, letting my gaze fall from the child. (Q: little one)

The others grinned knowingly to see me starting at the spot where Legolas had just stood. "Sea and stars, you're sweet." Firiel said.

"How about Tar? He looks at you like a dewy-eyed eighteen-year old!"

"Distraction is useless." Almarien smiled. "You and Legolas are the talk of the camp, and will be for quite some time."

I sighed defeatedly. "Until?"

Almarien looked carefully at Imrathiel. She was fast asleep, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Until I start to show."

"What?" Almarien shushed Firiel's exclamation, and we all leaned towards her conspiratorially, I ensuring the toddler didn't wake. "Are you sure?" Firiel whispered.

Almarien's face split into a beaming smile. She nodded. I beamed, taking her hand in mine. "Congratulations! Does he know?"

"Beriadan?" She laughed slightly. "Of course he does, but the other men must not." Her eyes met each of ours, "You are healers, all of you, but you are women too. You won't mollycoddle me."

"Understood." I smiled. "They are honourable to a fault, but I expect the last thing you need is for every man in sight to wait on you."

"Indeed, and of course, Aragorn is here too. Childbearing might be the only aspect of a healer's knowledge he does not know."