The Birth of an Immortal

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"Holy mother-frickin' ship!!!"

What the hell?! Is the multiverse laughing at me?! Has creation itself decided I've spent too many of these little vacations as a mortal having fun?! What the heck is going on?!?

"Miss, please, you have to push!"

Push? Push what? Why?

...Ow.

...Ow.

...OW.

...OW!

"What the heck is happening?!?"

The man, who I now see is wearing surgical scrubbie-things (I don't know why they're called scrubs. Just another weird human/mortal thing, I suppose), looks up at me from where he's been looking under a sheet that's spread over my legs, which I now realize are in stirrups or something.

Hey, get away from there! The last time a guy was near there... *blush* ...Okay, try not to remember the nice young Elf with is very nice hair and his extra-nice... / ahem! /

The doctor gives me this look. I've seen it before, when I'm in a delivery room and the mother or the baby is scheduled to go with me, but I like kids so I usually show up for those jobs a bit early. See the little cuties. Besides, I play a part in the baby being born, whether it dies then or not. I send them off to where they think they should go at the end, and I'm there (to a lesser extent) to give them a little Bon Voyage party as they start up a new life. Kids are a hoot.

Anyway, the doctor guy's giving me the "Let's Humor The Crazy Pregnant Lady" look. I'm serious, that look is almost universal! Midwives all over the multiverse have independently developed that look! Which means that...

Oh my.

No.

Not that.

This CANNOT be HAPPENING!!! Whoever heard of Death having kids?! Not me, that's for sure, and I should KNOW!!!

I swear, if this is another of Desire's pranks, I'm going to kick his/her sorry ass! I can't even go to see Dream and get parenting advice, since he's been locked up for almost seventy years! ...Not that I'd take his advice, since his parenting skills suck, but dangit!

*sniff*

My existence sucks.

And, oh, here comes the pain again! I swear, I'm never gonna give Calliope a bad time about her bitching over giving birth again.

...

Although, this is definitely a new experience. I've certainly never considered that this would happen before. This can go into my diary with all of the new things I experienced as a mortal on my one day each century. Right after sleeping with...

Hey...waitaminnit...

Is it just me, or can I still sense life forces? Why doesn't the baby's feel like all the other human babies I've been around before? Sure, Orpheus wasn't normal, but that's a given. He's family. This aura feels almost like...

No.

It can't be.

...Oh my... The baby's Immortal.

And not in the "created by human beliefs so we last as long as we are remembered" sort of immortal. Even "gods" can die. No, this is Immortal with a distinct capital "I". Only Elves (not the fey kind, stupid; the bow-and-arrow-shooting, graceful-as-hell kind!) and people with a whole lot of Elven blood in their heritage (half elves, quarter elves, that sort of thing) are Immortal. They don't die. Well, not permanently, anyway. People with a little Elven blood tend to be on the pretty side, and just live longer than most mortals.

Now, this leaves few options as to how the baby got there. Either it's an Immaculate Conception (which I highly doubt; none of the Angels or anything like that have ever liked hanging around with me; I think the fact that I'm older than them intimidates 'em, and they're all older than dirt themselves!), or I'm possessing the body of some girl that had the questionable luck to boink an Elf, then get pregnant (actually, considering I've had that sort of experience, and considering just how few High Elves there still are wandering around, I'd say she's lucky. But that's me).

But, no, a quick inventory of this body's memories just show the usual manufactured memories, including a fake, conveniently dead, family, and some memories of going into labor in a cab, of all things. How cliché can things get?

Anyhoo, here I am, in a Hospital, giving birth. Oh, by the way, all the time I was considering my situation, I was letting the body go on auto- pilot, trying to get the baby out. I guess I'll find out the whole answer to my eternal question of "Huh?!" once the kid's out. I'll be able to get a better look at its aura that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

...Gah...

I swear, if that moron of a doctor had had to say "Just one more push" one more time, I'd've shoved my foot up his ass, and told *him* to push! Men are so insensitive...

And did I just think that? Gah, methinks the hormones are still wonky...

"Miss? Would you like to hold her?"

Blinking sleepily (yeesh, I don't think I've *ever* been this tired before!), I nod and hold out my arms to take the baby.

A few shifts to settle the kid in place, and I have one arm free to move the blanket from her face.

And quickly move it back part-way. Yup, she's part Elf, all right! I'm lucky the nurses haven't seemed to notice that her ears are pointy.

Oh ship.

How am I gonna pull this off? I have to get out of here before the poop hits the gale-force-wind fan.

Well, the nurses are leaving, saying that I should have some "bonding time" with the baby. Sorry, girls, but I'm afraid I'll have to leave that till later; I've got to get out of here!

I don't quite know how, but I managed to get myself out of that bed and to the little locker where I figured they might have put my clothes.

Score! Apparently, the multiverse has decided to stop laughing at me for a bit and give me a break. There's a good-sized backpack stuffed in here, and it's got some comfy clothes that look like something I'd wear. Whatever maternity clothes I'd been wearing are probably either being washed or were ruined when I went into labor. Well, at least I won't look like a stick wearing a tent...

Quick scrub of my face and hands later (no time for a shower; the nurses might come back, and I *really* don't want to leave the kid lying on the bed by herself longer than necessary) along with a change of clothes and I'm back in business. Now I have to figure out how to get out of here without calling down security upon me.

Or maybe I've been watching too many movies, because a quick look out the window says that I'm on the third floor and, miracle of miracles, there's a fire escape two feet from my window ledge, which is rather wide.

Yay small favors.

Snagging the complementary hospital-provided diaper bag, which I hope has... YES! DISPOSABLE DIAPERS! And baby wipes. And an ever-so-cute tiny bottle of baby powder. And a couple bottles with a canister of formula for emergencies.

Well, it seems somebody on some plane of existence figured I'd need to bolt.

So, anyway, grabbed the bag, managed to stuff it into the backpack, pulled that on and tightened the straps so I wouldn't have to worry about it flopping all over the place, snagged an extra blanket and that cute little knitted cap that the baby managed to ditch the first chance she got, wrapped her up all snug and cozy, turned the extra blanket into a sling to leave my arms free, opened the window, and out I went.

Okay, first thing I figured out was it was cold. DAMN COLD. The second thing was that I was in England. Could have been southern Scotland, but at least I knew the general area. This wasn't too new. I've been to England plenty of times. Third thing was that I recognized the city.

Well, the river and the cute picturesque bridge in the distance, to be specific.

...Okay, I know when reality's trying to knock some sense into me, and I figure this is the last bit of evidence I need to prove the theory that was already proving to be the most likely. The baby is Legolas'.

"Well, short, nearly bald and cute, I don't suppose you have any idea where we'd have to go to find your dad, do you?" I absent-mindedly asked my daughter even as I shakily made the short jump from the windowsill to the fire escape. I'm definitely going to have to find a way to get to Legolas, wherever he is, quickly, and find a way to rest up while I'm at it.

As I make my way down the fire escape, pausing to make sure nobody in the rooms whose widows I get close to see me every once in a while, I mentally go over what I know about Legolas.

One: he prefers to live in more rural areas, preferably with some woods or a forest nearby. That drastically cuts down on possibilities here in Jolly Olde England; the Industrial Revolution took out a lot of the native forests.

Two: his current alias is Lance Green. ...Don't give me that look! He was damn nummifull, and the first guy I'd slept with in...Yeesh, *I* don't even remember! Anyway, he was memorable, and I wanted to keep track of him, see if he wanted to hang out or something later.

Three: he and his wife are separated, and have been for a damn long time. Not divorced, separated. She went to Vali-wherever, and he stayed behind with their daughter, who was a toddler at the time. Technically, he cheated on his wife when we had our thing. It made me feel all sorts of guilty when I realized that, but it's not like I can undo this. Hello, baby right here!

Four: He's been a grandfather. Four times. All boys, and all from his daughter's various maternal impulses over the millennia.

Well, at least it's not like he won't know how to handle a baby or anything. Because, no matter how much I'd like to take care of the kid myself, I'm not gonna delusion myself into thinking that I could just take a few decades off of my job to play stay-at-home-Mom. Plus, hello, I'm Death! Being around me wouldn't really be healthy for a little kid.

...Have I mentioned that my existence sucks? Okay, I'm down the fire escape, managed to get around the guards by hopping the hedges 'n stuff. Now I've got to find a phone or something.

Yes! Golden Arches! Mickie-D's! Two saving graces for the price of one: food and phones! A Big Mac, fries and an iced tea later (I don't know what caffeine might do to my body as far as my built-in baby-feeding facilities go, so I'm not gonna risk it), I'm happy, fed, and I've got change for the phone. A quick trip to the bathroom to check the baby's diaper and feed her without people staring and we're both happy and fed. You know, I've got to think of a name for her. She's just too gosh-darn cute to go for too long without a name. I think I'll wait until I've had a chance to talk to Legolas first, though. Elves can get a bit gung-ho about naming kids, now that I think about it.

"Well, the day isn't getting any longer, and we've gotta track down your dad, munchkin," I finally remark to her uber-cuteness after having burped her. Leaving the women's bathroom, I walk over to the small bank of pay phones, put the required amount of money in, and dial for the operator. I shift the baby's weight to let us both be as comfortable as possible.

We're probably gonna be here for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour and a half later...

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"No, you're not listening to me! I just want his number! ...Why? Because he's won the lottery; no, I've already told you, you fat cow- Don't argue with me! You sound like a frickin' bovine! ...I'm the mother of his frickin' kid! ...Oh, hell, now she's crying! You hear that? Because you're being an obstinate moron, *I* have a crying baby! People her age shouldn't be upset, dammit, Bossy the Cow!"

Huh, this whole indignant maternal thing is kinda fun. Unfortunately, I really don't have the time. For all I know, someone from the hospital could come walking in at any moment. I don't know what reason they might have to be upset with me, but they probably would be on sheer principle. There was probably a bunch of legal stuff I was supposed to deal with before I left. Plus, though I still technically have most of my twenty- four hours left, I don't know how long it'll take to get to Legolas, or for him to get to me. Now, if only Ms. Something-Disgusting-And-Mildly- Poisionous-Crawled-Up-My-Ass-And-Died would give me Legolas' phone number, I'd be in business.

"...Finally! Yes, thank you, though I wonder why you didn't just give it to me half an hour ago. Yes, bye. ...You too, Prissy Pants Stone- caster!"

Yay! Now I can call up the extremely handsome and flexible Elf-guy! ...But I suppose you people didn't want to hear that last part.

More change in the phone, dial the number, and I wait.

Phone ringing.

...

More ringing.

...

More ringing.

...

Mo- Yes! Somebody picked up! Please be Legolas, Please be Legolas...

"*sniffle* H- hello?"

Oh crudnugget. Crying. Crying people are not good when you have something weird yet important to say. That's something I've learned, if anything.

"Umm, yeah, hi, is this Lance Green's number?" Please don't be a wrong number. Please let the evil operator not have given me the wrong number out of spite, because, if she did, I just may have to kick her ass. But not kill her. Nope, Death doesn't kill.

...Although, technically...

Okay, shutting up *that* train of thought!

"*hiccup!* Y- yes, this is his number. May I ask who is calling, please?"

(thinkfastthinkfast!) "Teleute Black. We're...acquaintances," she finished, mentally wincing.

"One moment, please. I'll go fetch him...*sniff* ...I'm sorry, but we've had a death in the family recently, and-"

Somebody died? I don't remember anyone related to Legolas being scheduled to go. ...Then again, who knows? I guess I'll find out soon, and, if I don't, I can always check tomorrow. It's nice to have more than one aspect of myself so I can be in more than one place at a time.

"I'm really sorry about that, and I would just call back later, but it's *REALLY* important, Ms. ...?"

"Oh, how terribly rude of me! Dallandra Zabini. I'm Mister Green's daughter."

You're not the only one, kid... Maybe her husband died? He wouldn't be technically related to Legolas, and it might have skipped my notice on that front. I know it isn't any of her sons; they have all been dead for a long time. And, naturally, they went out being all noble and heroic and stuff.

"Nice to meet you, but if I could please speak with your father...?"

"Certainly. Again, one moment, please."

...

Doo-dee-doo-doo...

...

Really getting bored...

...Aww, look at the baby! She's all yawning and looking cute! Cute lil' dimples, cute lil' chubby cheeks, and- Hot dog! She's got dark eyes to go with her equally dark hair! Mu-haha, I have succeeded in putting my mark on the Elven gene pool! No gray eyes for *my* daughter.

Anyhoot...

Somebody's picking up the phone again! Oh happy day!

"...Teleute. To what do I owe the honor?"

I wince. Death in the family, he might take it out on me. Not that it's my fault, considering the fact that I don't pick who stays and who goes. I just do my job.

"Hey, Legolas," I start, keeping my voice down so I don't attract the attention of eavesdroppers. That would stink. "Umm, look, I know things are kinda still off with us, but something's happened, and it involves you."

Silence.

"Does this something involve my granddaughter, or would that be beneath your notice?"

I grit my teeth, closing my eyes and counting to ten. Sometimes it works.

"Look, Legolas, you know how my job works; I don't have a choice. Besides, I've been kinda out of the loop for the past three hours or so. I'm sorry about the kid, but it's not like I can wave my hands and magic her back to life. In any case, I really need your help. You do remember what today is the anniversary of, right?"

Silence. Oh, crud, I forgot! That night he'd been celebrating the anniversary of his wife leaving him by getting drunk off his rocker! "I mean anniversary as in how it pertains to me, Legolas."

More silence, then- "Yes, I remember. So you are mortal again. I do not see how that is important."

...Okay, it's time to stop being so damn sensitive. "Legolas," I purred, wincing all the while as I remember the guilt both of us felt afterwards, "You do remember what happened that night, right?"

"...Yes..."

"Oh, joy. Now, you're a big boy, so of course you know what can happen during such a thing, right?"

"...Teleute, get to the point, or by Elbereth I'll-!"

"I got pregnant, Legolas."

...

"...What?" He managed to croak out. It sounded kinda funny, to be honest. I tried to picture the look on his face, but had to shove that aside when it threatened to make me burst out into laughter.

"Pregnant, Legolas. A few hours ago I was in labor."

"..."

"She's making some rather cute sounds right now; you want to hear?" I asked, then, without waiting for his answer, I put the mouthpiece for the phone near the baby's mouth. Not too near, since I didn't know what kinda stuff might be on it, but plenty close enough for it to pick up baby sounds. After a couple minutes I put the phone back up to my ear.

"So?"

"...Where are you? Do you need someone to check you out of the hospital?"

"No, I got myself out, and before anybody noticed her pointy ears, too. I'm in...Well, I don't know the name of the town, but it's the same place we met. I'm currently in the McDonald's. Could you pick me up, or at least give me some directions to get to you?"

"...No, I'll be there in a few minutes to get you. I just have to arrange transportation for us, and then I'll be over. Stay put."

"Aye-aye, Captain Tall-Blond-and-Cute!"

"...Please don't call me that; ever."

"Sure, Legolas. See you soon."

"Quite."

There was a click from him hanging up, and then I put the receiver back into it's cradle-thingie.

"Well," I commented to my daughter, whom I shifted from my now very tired and sore arm, "That's it, and your daddy's on his way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four hours later, after a rather interesting trip via portkey and having explained the situation to Dallandra and Death having taken a well-earned nap...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

...Gah. Well, if my little romp through my baby brother's realm has anything to indicate the over-all state of the Dreaming, here's hoping that Dream'll either find a way out, or he'll get over himself and call for some help. The over-all quality of REM sleep has gone down the tubes.

A few minutes of searching later, and I've found Legolas and Dallandra, the latter of the two alternating between taking part in the conversation and cooing over the baby. Legolas is mostly focused on some old guy that I don't know, but he's noticed me and nodded me in. Well, let's see what's going on, shall we? Old Guy (heh, I'm still older!) is speaking to Dallandra.

"...I agree, Dallandra, that this child will need to be cared for, but, as to how we shall go about it, I don't know. Birth certification is rather simple to procure, but keeping yours and your father's secret from the Wizarding community when news of this gets out; that is the question. You know the Ministry's view on non-humans."

"...And she's about as non-human as you can get, we know, Albus," Legolas' voice interjected. "Both the Ministry and Voldemort would see her either as a tool to be used, or a threat to be destroyed. Neither, however, will lay so much as a fingertip on a fraction of her hair, if I have anything to say about it!"

Dang, he sounds all...I don't know what, but I like it...paternal, I guess... when he's being protective! But, in any case, it's time to make my presence known.

"What he said. Anybody who messes with *my* baby is going to...Well, they wouldn't be happy by the time I was done, dangit!"

Legolas just smiles at me, shaking his head in amusement. I'm not funny, dangit! I'm all serious and...and...

Damn hormones.

"Albus, might I introduce you to Teleute, or Death of the Endless? Teleute, this is Professor Albus Dumbledore. He is a former student of Dallandra's."

"Hey, call me Didi." I wave absent-mindedly and I make a quick bee-line for the baby, scooping her up. Dallandra is looking a bit wistful, which I suppose is understandable, what with her daughter being dead and all.

Oh.

Oh!

I think I just thought of a way to, well, not *fix,* per say, since there isn't really anything broken here, but at least make things easier. Dallandra gets a cute-as-a-button squirt to raise, and Legolas can keep said squirt safe. Going by the looks Legolas was sporting when he picked us up at the McDonald's, he's too "old" to pass as the father of a newborn, unless he wants to get weird looks.

But, then again, we run into the little problem that is Elves and their speed of development. No half-elf could be passed as a mortal, even with that spiffy glamour that the Elves have. The kid's mind and body wouldn't be able to compete with those of its human contemporaries for centuries, and then the point would be moot.

Hmm, I think there are a few deities who owe me favors...

While I'm looking at the big picture, the others are mulling over the immediate problems, which, hey, I've already got the answer to!

"Guys...?"

Still yakking.

"Guys?"

More yakking.

*very LOUD, very SHRILL whistle!* "YO! PEOPLE WHO ARE YOUNGER THAN ME!?"

Well, that got their attention.

They look at me, but only the guy with the beard...Dumbledore?...and the kid are looking amused. The two Elves are looking rather irritated.

"Look, nobody but us know that Legolas' granddaughter is dead, right?"

Nods all around. Looks like progress, but Dallandra looks like she's gonna start up an Old Faithful impression. "Okay, well, Dallandra, just as a rough estimate, do you think my kid could pass as your husband's?"

Quick peeks from everybody else, a short round of "Aww, look at the baby!", and they were back, everybody nodding. I nod, then continue.

"And, since you're both sisters, she'll probably end up looking enough like you to pass for yours. Your husband knows you're an elf, right? Could you tell him about all of this?"

Nervous shifting from the other female, then, "No, he does not. I was planning on telling him after we married, but things became...complicated."

"...Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight. Anyway, here's my idea. The baby stays with you, and you make sure nobody ever suspects she's not yours. Once she's old enough, we tell her everything.

"As for the whole aging problem," which, going by the sheepish looks on the others' faces, they hadn't considered, "There're some people I know who owe me favors, and can take care of that. She'll probably stop aging again when she's in her early to mid twenties, but by then she'll be able to handle herself."

Legolas was obviously going over the plan in his head, making sure that there weren't any flaws to it. Coming to the conclusion that there really weren't any, he nodded his agreement, turning to Dumbledore.

"Albus, if you could see to the legal formalities...?"

Dumbledore nods, then heads out of the room towards the front door.

"Well, that's settled! So, Legolas, what're we going to name this munchkin of ours?"

Groans abound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five years later, the Dreaming...

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*sniff* "I want my mummy! It's scary here!"

I wince, watching my ickle munchkin, my Elessario, wandering around Nightmare. Oddly enough, this part of the Dreaming used to be devoted to little kids' dreams, but Nightmares have been encroaching lately on normally sunnier places, and she accidentally stumbled right into it.

*hiccup!* "Mummy! I want my mummy!"

Oh, screw this watching and waiting! I'll apologize to Dream for barging in when he gets out; right now, my daughter's hysterical.

"Hey, munchkin. Need some help?"

She jumps back instinctively, which I really can't blame her for. Her nightmare looks like a cross between a carnival haunted house and a dungeon, with lots of blood and oogie stuff around the edges.

Just what kind of stuff has she been around lately?!

"Wh- who are you?"

I smile. I like kids, and kids generally have fewer problems with me than adults, by and large. I think it's because they haven't had as long to get used to living and stuff.

"Just a friend. I know a way out; you wanna come along?"

She's looking at me kinda warily. Her self-image is strong, but I can see the real her underneath, where even she can't see yet.

"...Okay..." She finally relents, and takes my hand.

A second later, we're back in a much nicer part of the Dreaming, far away from Nightmare. She sees a passing butterfly that catches her interest, and darts off to chase it, laughing in that way only a little kid can.

I sense her long before she makes any noise.

"Hey, baby sister. How are things in your neck of the woods?"

Delirium, my youngest sibling (though even *we* aren't sure how that can be, since we've all existed since before the beginning, and we'll still be here after the end; hence the name Endless), who used to be called Delight, steps up from behind me to next to me, absent-mindedly fiddling with her currently-silver bobbed hair.

"Hey, Death. What's going on?"

"Not much. Hanging out, keeping' an eye on my kid."

*blink-blink* "You had a kid? That's really weird. I once had a kid, but then I realized I hadn't, and...ya know, stuff happens, right?"

*mental sweatdrop*

I love my sibs to bits, but Del comes up with some of the weirdest stuff some times.

"...She seems kinda nice, ya know? I think that's my butterfly she just caught."

I smile to myself. Elessario, who thinks her name is Blaise, is carefully cupping her hands around the multi-colored butterfly, showing an unusual level of coordination for someone her age. "...Yup, really nice kid. Like her dad."

Putting my arm around my sister, whose hair is now seafoam-green and in dreds, I start leading her off away from the Dreaming. "Say, Del, how about you and me go hang out, have some quality sisterly bonding time? I'm feeling a hankering for company of the family kind."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seven years later, Destiny's Garden...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"...So, what do you think? Anything I should be on the lookout for?"

Destiny of the Endless doesn't look up from his Book, seated on one of the stone benches lining one of the paths in the Garden.

"You know that I cannot tell you such things, my sister," Destiny intoned quietly. "Your daughter is coming into her power, more and more steadily now that she knows the truth, at least in part. More I cannot say."

I let out an annoyed gust of air, combating the urge to grab that damn book of his and beat him over the head with it.

"Come on, there's got to be *something* you can tell me!" I pause. "How about that Elf spirit-guy she met earlier this year? How's that gonna turn out?"

Destiny seems to be thinking about it. He opens the book, flipping a few pages back, finds what he's looking for, and then looks up.

"There are many paths that could be the result."

I roll my eyes. "That's kind of a given, all things considered. Anything more specific?"

He starts closing the book, but now I'm pretty annoyed. He's being unusually close-lipped about this, even more so than usual. That makes me even more curious. I grab the book from him before it's closed, my finger managing to save the page he was looking at so intently.

"Death-!"

I stare. What I see on this single page brings up all kinds of weird thoughts and feelings. I can feel the emotions almost zipping across my face, finally settling on laugh-my-butt-off amused. Then I start cracking up, handing the book back to Destiny.

"Bwa-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAaaaaaaah- hoo! Only in this family could something like this happen..." *giggle!*

I start heading away, waving absent-mindedly behind myself. I guess I'd better double-check my diary. I don't want to get behind and forget stuff. It'll be important later...

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The End!