Weaving a Song

Chapter 3

c. 2020 Third Age (Six months later)

"Push My Lady." Oiolairë did as she was told. Her mind was racing and her body aching. As soon as that thought went through her mind something strange happened. All the sudden it was like the pain was deadened.

Through harsh breaths she asked, "Did you give me any medication?"

"Yes, My Lady, when you first went into labor." Suddenly she gave one last push and she heard the sound of a baby's cries. She sat up and looked at the bundle in her nursemaid's arms. "It's a girl." The nursemaid said and handed her over to her Queen.

Oiolairë looked at her child in wonderment. All of her fears for the child washed away as the tiny girl reached her hand up to her mother. "Almiel…" The Queen cooed. The nursemaid smiled and went into the hall.

"You can go in there now." She said to the King who was pacing frantically outside. The King's eyes widened and he rushed into the room. The nursemaid turned to the Crown Prince who still stood there hesitant. "I think you can go in there as well. Don't be frightened. The child is fine." Legolas nodded and slowly pushed the curtain aside as he walked into the room.

He stared at his parents surrounding some small bundle out of which hands and feet were reaching up to them. Oiolairë looked up and smiled at him. Come, meet your sister. Legolas walked softly over to the bed and sat down. The Queen passed the child to his arms. He stared down at the blonde hair just like his own. The shape of her eyes was the same too. In fact, he would be looking in a mirror if not for the bright green that stared at him instead of the cool blue. She had obviously gotten everything but her eyes from her father. Something made him want to draw her in closer. Everything felt warmer when she was closer. He broke eye contact with Almiel and looked at his parents who were smiling very contentedly at him. He looked back down and then handed the child back to his mother.

After handing her back it was like the room temperature had gone down a little. Does she give off that much? He wondered slightly. He looked at her now and saw that the glow that all Elves give off was much intensified, maybe even more so than her father's. Is that only because she's an infant? He asked his father. His father cocked his head and looked at the child again.

No, it means she truly is a daughter of blessedness.

Then Thranduil smiled wider, "Tomorrow we shall present her to our Kingdom."

The next day:

The Elvenking stood at the end of a table that was quite larger than normal, for the whole of Elven civilization in Mirkwood had come. Some had been invited from other Elven kingdoms as well though few had shown up because of the rather late invitation. This was because up until the end of the pregnancy Oiolairë had been worried about what would actually happen. Thranduil was more confident seeing how the Valar would protect the child through birth if they truly thought she could change someone's fate. It was after her birth that Thranduil was worried about.

Nonetheless, a feast had been prepared, one of the biggest in their history only comparable to the one after the Last Alliance of Men and Elves, and after her brother's own birth. So, Thranduil stepped up and clapped his hands, his eyes already dancing. "My kin!" He cried. All became silent as the Elves looked to their King. "Many of you have awaited this day for a long time. As of yesterday, you need wait no longer. I give you your Princess, Almiel of the Greenwood!"

The Queen came forward, carrying a small bundle in her arms. The Elves all looked on to see the Princess they had indeed been waiting years for. The Queen passed the child to Thranduil who took Almiel gently. He uncovered the child's face and smiled at the shining green eyes peering up at him. Then he carefully angled the child so that the rest could see the Princess' face. The gathered Elves all gasped with wonder at the small green eyes and blonde hair that matched the child's parents almost exactly. The child was smiling and now all could see the glow that almost challenged that of her father's who was an Eldar.

"Your Princess," The King said again, but much softer and gentler. The gathered Elves began singing softly, the same song they had sung when Legolas was born. Legolas himself stood by his mother dressed in his Princely garb with a circlet of silver leaves on his forehead. He smiled softly at his baby sister who was now reaching for her father. Her father smiled and let her have his finger which she delighted in suckling on. He laughed softly. Oiolairë rescued his finger by taking Almiel back gently. When the Elves stopped singing he took his wineglass and held it up and the rest followed suit. After he took a sip, the crowd mimicked and then laughter and song broke out as the ceremonies ended. Food and wine were all brought out and joy flowed from Elf to Elf. Even the trees around them shook their branches at the Elves gaiety.

All the while, one of the royal family held the Princess while Elf after Elf came to adore the infant which they had already given their loyalty to. Sometimes the infant was sleeping, other times she was peering about curiously, other times she tried reaching for whoever was above her, and yet other times she simply laid contentedly in the arms of her caretakers.

Everyone who came near her, however, noticed the same thing. The Princess gave off warmth that just was not normal in other life forms, even Elves. Through this, the royal family all realized that she was gifted, but with what they were not sure. Thranduil himself wondered if they ever would.