(no subject)
Nerdanel lay on the bed, her eyes on the ceiling above her, her hands resting on her flat belly. Just as she had with each child before, she sat in awe of knowing the child existed, but was yet unknown to anyone but her. It was almost a gloriously selfish experience, the feel of her son's spirit gently pulsing within her. She knew that Námo -- she was still trying to grow used to calling him that -- could sense the child, that part of his spirit fed their son's, but it was not the same.
"Feahelcë," she said to the quiet room, to a being that could not hear her yet. "I find it frightfully ironic that your father chose that name of all names."
She paused, her fingers drawing idle circles around her navel.
"Though I suppose it was expected. It is appropriate. I already know you will be much like him, which is almost a sad disappointment. Despite all those who will love you, care for you, you have his spirit as part of yours. You will be a distant, quiet child, burdened with a destiny most would shy away from."
Nerdanel smiled to herself, flooded with the sense of another within her body. "I also know, as only a mother can, how much you will adore your Ada and Adar." She swallowed the rising tears that danced on her lashes. "I know how much you will love your Atar, and, oh, how he will love you."
The soft scent of pine and burning wood wafted through her open windows, carrying the crispness of Autumn on the breeze. They would see another Yule with their people in a few months' time, and then return to the bar. She already missed Asar-Suti and Gil terribly. The Elf clung to her memory of spending the chilly night pressed close to Asar-Suti under a blanket with Gil in her lap. The two stirred something in her she had long thought dead. This child's family seemed to forever grow; she knew she loved Asar-Suti and Gil, trusted them as she trusted no other except for her own children.
Her children.
One thought led to another which led to another.
Amrod and Amras had been her life since they were reborn. With Maglor returned to her as well, many of the wounds she had carried since the Kinslaying were healing. She would never be whole without all her children again by her side, but... it was a start.
And now there was to be a new child. A new son. One that would not be ripped from her by father or Vala or loyalties beyond her. He would be hers -- loved and cherished and protected as she never could her other children.
Harsh lessons taught, but she would be damned if she repeated her mistakes again.
Nerdanel suddenly felt very tired and she turned onto her side, wrapping her arms instinctively around her belly as the red sun set over the mountains.
"Feahelcë," she said to the quiet room, to a being that could not hear her yet. "I find it frightfully ironic that your father chose that name of all names."
She paused, her fingers drawing idle circles around her navel.
"Though I suppose it was expected. It is appropriate. I already know you will be much like him, which is almost a sad disappointment. Despite all those who will love you, care for you, you have his spirit as part of yours. You will be a distant, quiet child, burdened with a destiny most would shy away from."
Nerdanel smiled to herself, flooded with the sense of another within her body. "I also know, as only a mother can, how much you will adore your Ada and Adar." She swallowed the rising tears that danced on her lashes. "I know how much you will love your Atar, and, oh, how he will love you."
The soft scent of pine and burning wood wafted through her open windows, carrying the crispness of Autumn on the breeze. They would see another Yule with their people in a few months' time, and then return to the bar. She already missed Asar-Suti and Gil terribly. The Elf clung to her memory of spending the chilly night pressed close to Asar-Suti under a blanket with Gil in her lap. The two stirred something in her she had long thought dead. This child's family seemed to forever grow; she knew she loved Asar-Suti and Gil, trusted them as she trusted no other except for her own children.
Her children.
One thought led to another which led to another.
Amrod and Amras had been her life since they were reborn. With Maglor returned to her as well, many of the wounds she had carried since the Kinslaying were healing. She would never be whole without all her children again by her side, but... it was a start.
And now there was to be a new child. A new son. One that would not be ripped from her by father or Vala or loyalties beyond her. He would be hers -- loved and cherished and protected as she never could her other children.
Harsh lessons taught, but she would be damned if she repeated her mistakes again.
Nerdanel suddenly felt very tired and she turned onto her side, wrapping her arms instinctively around her belly as the red sun set over the mountains.