(Untitled)

[sael_nerdanel]

She is resting comfortably on her bed, curled on her side, staring sleepily at the sonogram image of her son.

Just as sleep -- sleep like Men have, not like Elves -- tries to drag her down, he appears in front of her. Tall, dark, eyes like burning cold-fire.

"Mandos," she breathes.

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[halls_of_mandos]

He crouches down, looking into her tired face.

"Pen hael," he greet quietly. "You are not well."

[sael_nerdanel]

"I am well enough. Your son does not suffer. I saw a healer today and he assures me Feaho is well. He grows. He is active."

Her words would be bitter if she had the strength for it.

[halls_of_mandos]

Asar-Suti's words come to him now.

"No, Nerdanel. He is not only my son. He is yours, too. And Lee's. Feahelcë is not my possession, not mine alone to claim."

[sael_nerdanel]

"Such a drastic change in opinion," she says softly. "Has Gorlim been at you? Or perhaps Gil finally took that large stick to your head."

Pause.

"And why do you not count him as Gorlim's son any longer?" Her voice quivers ever so slightly with a tremor of fear.