Mae kept her fingers on Ylva's wrist long after the color had returned to her skin. The steady beat under her touch was the only thing that mattered. She counted it silently, afraid that stopping would make it disappear again.
"She's warm," Mae whispered. "She's actually warm."
Tauriel stood a few steps away, both newborns resting securely against her. Her eyes moved between Ylva's face and the older child sitting quietly beside the bedding. The little girl looked completely calm, as if nothing extraordinary had just taken place.
"I don't understand how she did it," Tauriel said under her breath. "That kind of power shouldn't exist in someone so small."
Mae let out a shaky breath that was half a laugh. "She's his. That's the only explanation that makes sense anymore."
