Chapter 355: Birth
21 March, 2963 of the Third Age. The spring equinox.
On this day, the peace of Rivendell was gently broken.
All talk among the Elves turned to one place: the Last Homely House of Lord Elrond.
Outside the birthing chamber in the palace, Kael, Elrond, Celeborn, Elladan, and Elrohir waited in silence.
Only Galadriel, as grandmother, together with a few Elven midwives, was allowed within to attend Arwen as she laboured.
From time to time, a low groan sounded from behind the door, and every man outside flinched in spite of himself.
Elrond and Celeborn kept their faces calm, but Elrond's fists were clenched tight, and the air around Celeborn seemed to press down with barely checked tension.
Elladan and Elrohir, as elder brothers, paced back and forth in front of the door, unable to keep still.
Kael stood rigid, his face taut, as if someone had cast a Body‑Bind Curse on him. His eyes were fixed on the closed door, as if sheer will might let him see through it.
Elrond watched Kael's wound‑up state, half amused, half moved. He said quietly, "There is no need to be so tense, Kael. Galadriel is with her, and Arwen is strong and well. She will be fine."
Kael nodded vaguely, his thoughts miles away. He did not seem to have heard a word.
Elrond sighed and let it go.
Until Arwen was safely delivered, there would be no comfort for Kael.
Time slipped by. No one could have said how long they waited.
Night had fallen, and Eärendil's star burned bright in the sky when, at last, a baby's thin cry rang out from within.
The sound carried into the still valley, not loud, but sharp and clear to Elven ears.
Smiles bloomed across Rivendell. The Elves rejoiced with simple, sincere gladness at the birth of new life, and more so for the child of their lord's daughter, the Evenstar of their people.
Music rose, soft and fair, full of mystery and blessing, as voices wound together in welcome for the newborn.
After the first cry, a few minutes passed.
Then a second baby wailed.
Galadriel emerged, smiling. "Congratulations, Kael," she said. "Arwen has given you twins."
She cradled a baby swaddled in white silk. Beside her, another Elven woman held a child wrapped in blue.
"The one in blue is your son, the elder," Galadriel said softly. "The one in white is your daughter."
Kael cast only a fleeting glance at the infants. "How is Arwen?" he asked at once. "Is she all right?"
Galadriel's smile deepened. "She is merely exhausted," she said. "She has fallen asleep. If you are worried, go and see her."
Kael was through the door in an instant.
The men left outside exchanged looks, then smiled.
"Arwen has chosen well," Celeborn said to Elrond.
"Kael is a good man," Elrond answered simply.
None of them followed him in. Instead, their attention turned to the children.
Celeborn carefully took the boy from the arms of the waiting Elf.
Elrond received the girl from Galadriel.
Elladan and Elrohir crowded close, gazing in wonder and delight at their twin niece and nephew.
The blood of twins ran strong in Elrond's house. Elrond and Elros had been born together, and Elladan and Elrohir were twins as well.
But this was the first time their line had seen a twin brother and sister.
Inside the room, Kael sat by the bed, watching his pale, weary wife with a tenderness that softened every line of his face.
As if she felt his gaze, Arwen stirred and woke.
Seeing him there, her eyes filled with warmth. "Kael," she whispered.
He lit up at once and leaned closer, taking her hand. "How do you feel? Are you still in pain? Are you thirsty? I will get you some water."
Before she could answer, he had his golden cup in hand, pouring Ent‑draught into it and lifting it to her lips.
Brewed by the Ents, the drink brimmed with life. In the golden cup, its virtues were doubled.
She drank, and colour returned visibly to her cheeks. Her voice grew stronger.
She watched him fuss over her with soft eyes, then glanced around the room.
"Kael," she asked, "where are the children? Have you seen them?"
"Ah…" Kael's hand froze. For a heartbeat, guilt flickered across his face. "They should be with Lord Elrond and the others."
"'Should be?!'" Arwen repeated, and her gaze sharpened. She looked at him, a little speechless. "Kael, they are our children. Do not tell me you have not even looked at them properly."
"No, no," he protested at once. "I saw them when I came in. They are very cute. They look like you."
Arwen gave him a sceptical look. "Do they? Then tell me—what do they look like? What colour are your son's hair and eyes? And your daughter's?"
"Er… their hair is black?" Kael said weakly.
He had barely snatched a glance at them before. His mind had been full of Arwen, and the rest had gone straight past him.
Arwen sighed, helpless, at his guilty expression.
If she had not remembered so clearly how he had spoken to the children when they were still in her womb, pressing his head to her belly and talking to them with such love, chanting charms, telling old tales, and humming Tom Bombadil's strange tunes for "education", she might have wondered if he cared for them at all.
At that moment, Elrond and the others came in, each carrying a child.
Elrond checked his daughter's condition with a healer's eye. Once he was certain all was well, he relaxed and smiled.
Then he laid the little girl between Arwen and Kael. "Come," he said. "Look at your daughter. She takes after Arwen. A very fair lady indeed."
Celeborn set the boy down beside his sister.
Kael looked at the two small bundles, and something deep within him stirred and shook.
A sense of blood‑bond ran through him like lightning. Love welled up, fierce and sudden, as if a volcano had burst inside his chest.
These were not like newly born Mortal babes, reddened and wrinkled. They were beautiful from the first.
Their skin was pale and fine as peeled egg, soft as silk to the eye. A thick down of black hair lay against each small skull. Their large eyes were open already, bright with an uncanny alertness.
They stared straight at Kael and Arwen, as if they already knew them, and their faces lit in happy smiles.
They were almost identical, both of them striking in their perfection, as if Ilúvatar Himself had fashioned them as gifts. Only their eyes set them apart. The boy's were black like Kael's. The girl's were grey.
And both had the small, pointed ears of the Eldar.
Children of a Man‑wizard and a Half‑elf, they had clearly taken more from their mother's side. In form, they were Elves.