Chapter 4:  changes

The master of Imladris looked up when again a knock sounded on his study door. He would never finish one of these documents if the interruptions did not cease.

Yet as soon as these thoughts had crossed his mind a foreboding came over him and he quickly stood and answered the door.

His premonition had not fooled him. He saw Alariel standing there panting.

“My Lord, please come quickly. It’s Eiriniel!”

Not asking why she had not called any of the others healers in the house the Elf-lord complied. He had long expected such a summons.

Over the past few weeks he had seen Eiriniel overstep her abilities several times and he was nearly sure by now that she had been doing it on purpose.

Of course, she had never admitted it, yet three times now he had sent her home, her exhaustion far beyond anything he was willing to accept in her state.

On one occasion, he had earnestly reprimanded her and threatened to remove her from work until the baby was born if she would not heed his advice. She had promised improvement and for some days he was pleased at seeing her taking things more slowly but still he had a bad feeling about her general attitude and now his worries seemed confirmed.

He increased his pace to catch up to Alariel. The elleth had already reached the door to a guest room and pushed it open. Elrond did not stop when Alariel stepped aside to let him pass.

In the middle of the room Eiriniel was lying on the floor a blanket she had wanted to cover the bed with still clutched in her hand.

Quickly he knelt down and after removing the blanket, he reached out to feel for her pulse. It was present, but very fast and erratic.

He turned his head and addressed Alariel still hovering inside the open door looking worried at her friend.

“Alariel, please fetch Tinár? I need a second pair of hands!”

After nodding Alariel turned and left the room remembering to close the door. Elrond inhaled deeply. Sending her to fetch his head assistant healer was a reasonable task, but most of all he did not want her to be present. He knew that Tinár would return alone finding a way to keep her away.

Elrond had already seen the increasing red stain between Eiriniel´s legs. The birthing process had already started and he did not want Alariel to witness it.

As expected, the door opened soon after his request and Tinár entered alone. Elrond had no need to explain anything – his colleague was as familiar with the situation as he was. One look at the red patch and Tinár hurried over.

“What happened?” he asked while waiting until his Lord had moved Eiriniel's skirts to take a closer look.

“I do not know. Alariel alerted me and I found her on the floor,” Elrond answered. Tinár sighed. Apart from the blood there was nothing to see and it was still five weeks to go but Eiriniel had finally succeeded in overtaxing her body. Something was happening and they had to act to save mother and child. A look at the waxen face of the ellith told him that they had to hurry.

“I will take her,” Tinár said while already scooping the elf´s body into his arms. Elrond nodded and threw the blanket over Eiriniel to cover the blood. He opened the door to let his colleague pass.

Catching up he passed Tinár and hurried along to prepare everyone in the healing rooms. Briefly he wondered where Alariel was.

He reached the room and, after opening the door, he raised an eyebrow at the already waiting healers. Tinár had anticipated his needs once again.

After Tinár hastened through the door, Elrond closed it and took an apron from a hook. Tinár had already placed Eiriniel on the high table. Just as Elrond stepped to the table, she moaned loudly and opened her eyes.

But where Elrond had expected panic and begging to save her child Eiriniel only looked at him calmly, a grimace of pain flitting over her face. While his colleagues removed her clothing, he placed a calming hand on her forehead.

“Do not worry, Eiriniel. It’s a bit early but I will do whatever I can to save your child,” he said. Again, his words seemed to have no effect on the young elf.

An impatient intake of air from Tinár told him that they had to start if they wanted to make the Elf-lord´s promise come true.

Yet before Elrond could shift his attention to Eiriniel´s lower body she suddenly grasped his hand.

“Do save your effort, Lord Elrond. We have agreed to leave this world together!”

While Tinár had already taken up some instruments Elrond´s head snapped around his eyes narrowed. Was she confused, which would be understandable in her condition, or was her statement born out of worry and pain?

Yet when he looked in her eyes, he recognized that she had spoken with clear determination. He shook his head with growing anger. How could she say she had agreed with her unborn child about leaving this world? How could a child agree to something it did not even know, something it had not even experienced?

Knowing that the time was running short, he looked at her with a stern expression.

“Eiriniel, you cannot possibly decide that your child will not enter this world and it cannot agree with you about a fact it has no knowledge of. That is ridiculous!”

Eiriniel did not even flinch at the reprimand. She only turned her head away.

The Elf-lord had enough. Determined he gave the signal to do what must be done to save the mother and child. He was primarily a healer and he would not willingly and consciously let a young mother fade. He could sympathize with her grief, yet this went too far. The child had to at least be given a chance.

Just when he had spread her legs farther apart she suddenly let out a painful cry as her body convulsed with a heavy contraction. A great gush of blood poured forth splattering the Elf-lord's apron and tunic.

Taking the cloth Tinár was handing him to wipe drops of blood from his face, Elrond ordered his helpers to hold her in place. He placed one of his hands on her swollen belly while he probed with the other hand to check the progress of the birth.

The whole scene then erupted into full-fledged chaos. Eiriniel began to scream and thrash around leaving the healers hard pressed to hold her steady without hurting her.

Since she was not cooperating, Elrond had to continue pressing on her belly while Tinár mopped up the alarmingly growing amount of blood.

She was screaming incoherently now, first accusing them of rescuing her against her will and then begging them to save her child.

The Elf-lord shut out the outer world to be able to concentrate on the delivery. He clearly felt the fading life signs of the child and knew that not much time remained. The danger of losing both was great. Yet he nonetheless had to act with great care. The child was not lying in the correct position and he had to turn it before it could safely be born.

With a worried gaze he looked at the pale face of Eiriniel and he clearly felt her resistance growing weaker with every passing moment; a clear testament to her great blood loss.

He had to make a decision quickly otherwise Eiriniel would die and her unborn child with her. Then she would have succeeded at last. With a determined push he dragged the shoulder of the child to the side. The head moved into the right position and with another determined push on her belly, the little boy slid into his hands.

However, the joy over the success was short lived. The boy was not breathing. Elrond quickly cleaned the nose and mouth of the boy and took it to another table. Briefly inhaling he blew a tiny amount of air into the little nose and performed it three times. Then he placed two of his fingers over the baby’s heart and pressed as firmly as he dared.

When he looked up, he swallowed. Tinár was performing the same routine with Eiriniel albeit with a bit more vigour. Tinár had no time to look at him. His other colleagues were busy trying to staunch the bleeding and remove the afterbirth.

Elrond closed his eyes briefly while still trying to animate the baby’s heart. If no miracle happened, Eiriniel would have succeeded in uniting with her child in death.

Opening his eyes again, he poured as much healing energy as he dared into the tiny body and called on the child's fea to not relinquish its fragile hold on the little body.

He glanced over at the mother but Tinár was still trying to bring Eiriniel back from the brink of death. If they lost her, they would lose the child too.

He returned his gaze to the child in his arms, when he heard a faint cough and a low wail. The child’s face was slowly gaining some colour and he was fighting for breath. Elrond lifted the babe's head a bit and waited until the boy breathed more easily. No sooner had his lungs filled with enough air, than he began to scream in earnest.

Elrond smiled at this sound. It was music to his ears. Quickly he wrapped the boy in a soft cloth and placed it in the outstretched arms of Loriel, an experienced nurse.

When he was sure that the boy would survive he turned his attention toward the mother. One glance at her waxen face extinguished his hopes that this hour would again be graced by mercy.

To be continued…………………..