Fo.A 19, Nov 10th

Two hours of beating the stones had finally revealed a stair that descended into the inky darkness. Ninel winced as the baby kicked her in the ribs again, the fifth time in the same amount of hours.

She watched as Legolas kicked the last few stones out of the way and called for torches to be lit. He'd barely spoken to her since everything had happened other than to make sure she was alright, not that she could blame him. He was hurt, and she had lied to him. To all of them.

Legolas motioned to her, handing her a torch. "I know it's no use telling you to stay here. Lead the way." His voice was even, but Ninel saw the hurt in his eyes.

Ninel took the torch and began to descend the steps, a cold dread stealing the warmth from her. The deeper they went, the more the darkness seemed to press in around them; the light from the torches hardly piercing the suffocating gloom.

Half of those who remained after the attack had stayed behind to tend to the bodies of the fallen while the rest were several paces behind Ninel; no one spoke, each feeling the weight of the darkness in their own way.

Afar off they heard the haunting whistling sound, and Ninel picked up her pace as much as she dared. Her father, he was alive! The feeling brought with it both relief and anger; feelings she would have to sort through once they were back home. Right now, her only thought was getting him out of this place and back to a place he could heal. Eru only knew what horrors he'd had to endure these past years.

Ninel saw an end to the stairs ahead, standing in stark contrast to the yawning void that seemed to lay beyond. She paused at the archway, her eyes straining against the cold blackness, but it was an effort in futility. Ninel turned to Legolas. "Can your eyes pierce the veil?"

Legolas squinted his eyes, but after a moment said, "No. This darkness is unnatural. It is a remnant left behind after the War. I do not think we should venture into it." He looked at her, his blue eyes searching. "But I will follow your lead."

Ninel's eyes dropped to the ground. How far was she willing to go for a man she hardly knew? She already had blood on her hands for her reckless behavior at the door. Deep down, though, she knew she'd made her choice. "We go forward."

Legolas's lips pressed into a thin line. "So be it."

The group passed on, led by Ninel, into the void, their torches barely illuminating the path before them; the dim light extending only four or five feet at best, which made progress slow.

Then, as if coming out of a thick fog, the light spread out as one would expect it too, revealing a large pillar-stone with rusty chains dangling down from the top, ending in two shackles enclosing the wrists of their prisoner. The figure was on their knees, head down, face covered by matted hair.

Ninel's breath caught in her throat, and she took a tentative step forward, the sound echoing around them. "Údar?"

The figure stirred a little, head bent low, and began to chuckle softly. Ú-dar," the figure crooned in an almost manic voice. "Údar isn't here."

The hairs on the back on Ninel's neck stood on end at the sound of his voice. They were too late, the darkness had driven him mad. Still, she couldn't just leave him here in this place. She took another cautious step forward. "Údar, it's Ninel. We've come to rescue you. We're going to take you home."

"Home, home, home is gone," he sang, swaying on his knees.

Emotion choked Ninel, and she took a step back, straight into Legolas's arms, trying to hold it together.

"They left me here," whispered the figure. "Left me to die!"

The shout thundered around them as the figure raised their head, revealing two glowing eyes, and a face twisted in rage. He laughed then, as one does when they've lost themselves, and Ninel screamed.

Legolas quickly turned her away from the sight. "Do not be afraid, he cannot hurt you." He motioned to the others to silence the deranged elf.

Ninel looked up at Legolas, eyes wide in fear. "The baby," she said, doubling over in pain, "the baby is coming!"

The elf, known as Amarth, clapped his shackled hands, shouting. "What a happy occasion!"

One of the men landed a swift punch to the jaw of the elf, knocking him out cold.

All exploded into chaos as Legolas swept Ninel up in his arms, struggling to hold the extra weight as she squirmed in pain. As a young man with a torch guided him back along the path, Legolas began to sweat, knowing that he must make it outside of the cursed door; he couldn't let his child be born under this curse!

Once they had reached the stairs, he felt his resolve renew, and he quickened his pace to the limit.

Ninel cried out in pain, face strained as she held her belly as another contraction came and went. She breathed heavily, sweat drenching her body. "I'm sorry," she whispered, eyes closed.

"Hold on," said Legolas. They were almost there, he was sure of it!

"The baby," Ninel murmured.

"The baby will be fine," Legolas said through clenched teeth.

There was another contraction on its way, he could feel Ninel's body tensing, and Legolas sensed the child was coming in a hurry. Summoning every last ounce of strength he had left, he began taking the steps two at a time, finally coming within sight of the opening.

As the next contraction hit, Legolas prayed that Ilúvatar would not let their baby be born yet. Not here.

The last of his strength was giving out, and Ninel too heavy to carry. A figure appeared in the opening as Ninel began to scream again, and seeing them both, jumped to their aid, taking Ninel from Legolas's arms. Several others came and helped him up as the man disappeared through the opening with his wife. Moments later, there was a sound of a babe crying.

Heart quickening, Legolas shoved the others aside, stumbling up the final set of steps and into the room, collapsing to his knees.

Three things struck him then, the first being how beautiful Ninel looked; she seemed to radiate light as, weary and haggard, she leaned against the wall, letting their baby suckle. The second was that the baby looked healthy, and better yet, alert. Third and finally, they were sitting just outside of the sanctum door.

They had made it.

With some help, Legolas exited the room, entering the hallway where Ninel sat, noticing the man who stood watchfully over the mother and her newborn. He was shorter than most in their company but muscular and strong. The man bore a white scar across his brow, and his countenance was that of one who has seen the hardships of war.

"Hannon le, Aharron," Legolas said nodding to him. "You were the one who wounded the beast, were you not?"

"There were many who wounded the creature, my Lord," Aharron replied.

Legolas sensed the man's discomfort for being called out in such a way and changed the subject. "We need to prepare to head back to Annúminas with a newborn and a prisoner joining us."

"What of the dead?" Aharron asked. "It would be too much of an effort to take them all the way back."

"We cannot leave them here," said Legolas. "I will not. Find a way."

Aharron bowed, then left to carry out his orders while his captain remained with his wife.

Legolas sat down next to Ninel as she cradled the now sleeping child, smiling. "How do you feel?"

"I hurt," she replied, eyes on the baby. "Other than that, I am fine."

Legolas leaned in, kissing her forehead, and gently taking her free hand. "He has my good looks," he teased.

Ninel snorted and smiled. "What shall we call him?"

Legolas thought for a moment as he looked at his son, then smiled. "Lendír." He looked at Ninel. "It means Journey."

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Amarth hated babies. 

He hated people in general, but especially babies; they always cried about everything, soiled themselves at inconvenient times, and regurgitate their food onto whoever was holding them.

Amarth rolled his eyes as he watched the mother try and soothe her child, and he found himself wishing one of the eight guards around him would beat him senseless again so he wouldn't have to listen to it anymore.

Amarth glance at one of the guards, a little insulted that they had only picked eight. Didn't they know who he was?

No respect, no respect at all.

"I'm hungry," he announced.

No response.

"Fire!" he shouted.

No one batted an eye, but it spooked the baby, which made it cry louder.

Great.

Amarth, more than a little irritated by now, began sputtering curses at everyone around him; still, they gave no response. After a few more tries, Amarth gave up and started to sulk. At least he was no longer trapped in that underground hellhole.

He gritted his teeth at the thought of that traitorous she-elf as she closed the shackles around his wrists, walking out of there with Údar in tow. Amarth made a mental note to kill her too when the time came.

The cursed backdrop of Carn Dûm slowly fell away behind them, and Amarth couldn't have been happier about it. Now that he was out, he'd find the right time to share his little secret, which wouldn't be difficult now that she was here.

He glanced up at the woman riding beside elf. What she saw in him was beyond what Amarth could fathom, but she would be the easier of the two, to be sure. All Amarth had to do was wait. He smiled.

He was good at waiting.

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Well look'ee here! We found ourselves an Amarth!

And we had a baby!

And people died!

And Aharron is there!

What do you guys think? Comment below and let me know!