Labour of Love

by Jay of Lasgalen

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“Stop it!” she snarled, turning on her husband.  “You may be a healer, but what do you know of childbirth?”

“And you!” she added savagely to her brothers.  “Why Naneth left instructions for you to help me at this time … I will … never … know!”

She began to pant, breathing hard and pushing, leaning back into Aragorn’s arms.  She fell against him with a groan and a triumphant cry,  tears of joy and exhaustion streaking her face as her cry was answered by a shrill, plaintive wail.

“Your son,”  Elrohir whispered, kissing her brow.  “Well done, little sister!”