The Hobbit & Lord of the Rings -oneshots II

Engender - Lindir

Warnings: descriptions of labour and childbirth
Word count: 1086
Other: One of the "leftover" requests from the last line of the first book.
Requested: by Vesta2020

Your baby decides to arrive early, and Lindir is not quite sure which way to be.

You huffed as you tried to hoist yourself off the armchair, trying desperately to lift yourself into a sitting position. Your efforts were in vain, and you remained in the position you were in right now, something akin to lying down or imitating a beached whale. Your stomach was huge, as it usually was when one reached the 12th month* of pregnancy. But that didn't mean it annoyed you any less, not being able to sit up or lay down or even see your own toes.

After the third futile attempt to get up from the chair, you changed your mind. The chair was quite comfortable, your back didn't ache, and there was nothing pressing that you needed to get done anyway. So you might as well stay laying down, there was no reason for you to get up. The reason you decided to stay laying down has nothing to do with the fact that you couldn't get up from the chair, you didn't want to get up the chair, and that was that.

Your hand flew to your belly when gentle contractions rushed through you, but you thought nothing of it. You had had them for a few days now, and the healer had said that they were no cause for concern, that your body was just preparing itself for the arrival of your baby. They had always gone away after you ate. Unfortunately this time the cookies were not within your reach, so you would have to get up after all. You kicked your legs so you got them free from under the blanket. Flailing your arms around, you managed to find the armrest of the chair next to you.

This time, you managed by some sort of miracle to hoist yourself up from the chair and onto your feet. Beaming in triumph, you waddled over to the plate to claim your prize. It had been Lindir's request that there were always these cranberry cookies available in your room. Even if you had resisted the idea in the beginning, you had to admit that it was nice to be able to eat whenever the situation called for it. Just as you were eating your second one, the pain rose, making you curl in yourself. The sharp flash stung around your abdomen, your hand coming to grip the edge of the table to keep yourself upright. The cookie in your hand fell to the floor, long forgotten as the pain seemed to just continue forever.

Something warm trickled down the inside of your leg, and you stiffened. The healer had said that you would probably have a week or more before the baby but had warned that they could come sooner. And here they were.
"Santina?" You called, and the young servant peeked her head through the door. She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but she didn't have to. You, clutching your stomach above a puddle on the floor, told her all she needed to know.
"It's time?" She asked, hurrying inside and offering you her arm so you could support yourself off of it. You had to get to the healer's ward, which was only a few halls away, not a long walk.

- -

Lindir raised his head from the paper he was reading through when a guard burst through the door, breathing heavily. At first, he thought the kingdom might be under attack, but as he heaved out words, the situation started to form.
"Y/N... Labor... Healer... Now." It took a moment for the words to register in his brain and another for him to realize their significance. But when he did, he jumped up from his seat, almost knocking over a bottle of ink while doing so.
"But the healer said we had a week, at least!" He cried out, and Elrond couldn't help but laugh.
"I guess no one told the baby that because it seems they are arriving now. Hurry, she will want you there." With that, Lindir was out of the room and sprinting towards the healers. The cries of pain got louder as he approached, and his heart grew cold when he realized it was you.

He reached for the door handle, but he was shoved away by the healer who had just arrived. She gave him a stern look, shooing him away from the door.
"You know you are not allowed in." Lindir opened his mouth to argue but soon realized it would be futile. It was tradition, and no amount of arguing or begging would change her mind.
"I will let you know the moment it is okay for you to step in. Now, sit down." She raised her voice a little bit as you let out another scream inside the room, and Lindir flinched. After flashing him a gentle and understanding smile, she disappeared into the room, closing the door after her.

Lindir did not sit down. He kept pacing the length of the hallway, sometimes shifting his route so he was pacing just in from of the door. He flinched with every scream, hoping that he could be there to help you. It took hours of screaming, but your little daughter was here. She was sleeping peacefully in your arms now, resting against your chest.

Lindir was finally let into the room, and he stormed to your side, sinking to his knees to be on the same level as you. His eyes searched your face, arm rising to wipe the bead of sweat off your temple.
"I'm okay, my love." You assured him, shifting yourself into a higher sitting position. She shifted in your arms but didn't wake. Lindir's eyes fell to her, and you smiled.
"You have a daughter." You told him gently, carefully handing the bundle of fabric over. He beamed as the small elleth rested in his arms, sleeping peacefully. The few tufts of hair atop her head were the same brown as Lindir's. Your eyelids were starting to droop, the labor had worn you out completely.

Lindir is so much fun to write for!

I don't know how I think about the end of this one, it feels a little rushed but I don't know what else I could have written in there.

* Eleven pregnancies take a full year.