Little light of mine (let it shine, please, let it shine) by Fiamma Galathon  

~~~~

April, 377 F.A., Thargelion.

Caranthir smiled seeing the first buildings on the edges of the Haladin village appear from behind the hill, the steady clippety-clap of his horse’s hooves on the road bringing him ever closer. The day was waning already, the sun painting the sky into a myriad of shifting hues­, a soft breeze playing with his cape as he rode, content. He managed to eke out two days of free time to visit Haleth, and he meant to use them to their full extent.

He could never regret having married her, as inconvenient as the distance was.

Some chickens trying to find something edible in the beaten surface of the road clucked at him indignantly as he rode between them, scattering to the sides in a flurry of feathers. His horse neighed happily in greeting, and the small, furry ponies of the Haladin replied with equal enthusiasm.

The elder sitting under the overhang of one of the houses smiled at him knowingly when he inclined his head at them politely, and pointed in the vague direction of the village center with one knobby finger. -The chief will be happy to see you, lad!- they cackled in the way only elderly Edain could.

Caranthir raised one eyebrow at them, but huffed in amusement. The insistence of elderly mortals, be it Khazâd or Edain, to treat him like a youngster never ceased to amuse him. -As will I be to see her.- he retorted, patting his horse on the neck to make it start walking again. It snorted, displeased to be ordered away from the grass of the edge of the road, but trotted forward easily enough.

He found his wife holding two tweens by the collars of their tunics, clearly having just broken apart a fight. Dismounting silently he watched her as she shook them both again in chastisement, and let them go after they muttered a quick apology to each other.

Haleth was… Well, nothing less than a force of nature. Caranthir smiled widely, admiring the sight before him. She was dressed simply, in working clothes, but she wore the tunic he had woven for her, a deep red adorned with golden-yellow peeking out from under the outer sleeves, making her ambiguously blonde-brown hair glimmer like cloth of gold in the setting sun. She rubbed a hand across her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, and turned around with a huff.

The moment she saw him was easy to notice, because she blinked twice and smirked, a sharp expression. -Oh, look who happened to come for a visit!- she called out to him, striding forward until she reached him.

-My Lady.- he murmured demurely, taking her hand to kiss her knuckles, resolutely ignoring the spark of their marriage bond bloom into something more tangible in the back of his mind at the touch. – I’m all yours for tomorrow and the day after.-

Haleth grinned widely. – Very good.- she caught him by his collar and dragged him into a kiss, making Caranthir lose any intellect he had at his disposition. He blinked at her dumbly when she broke apart, feeling his cheeks and ears burn, and she only laughed at his plight. -My silly elf. Come on, you arrived right for dinner.-

-Oh, uh, all right.- he managed, rendered dumb by the soft chiming of their marriage bond prompted by her kiss. It was so very often silent and still, because Haleth was not an Elda, but when their skin touched it always sang softly. He was bond-drunk in her presence more often than not, for he could not get used to the feeling.

Haleth pressed one grounding hand to his chest, scratching the neck of his horse. – Moryo...- she called him again, gently, and he refocused on the physical world.

-I have been away for too long, - he managed, the goosebumps along his spine receding softly, as he made his legs listen to him and walk towards Haleth’s home. – if a simple touch of your hand and a kiss threatens to undo my mind.-

-Oh, love.- she sighed. – You need more hugs.-

Caranthir hummed in the back of his throat in agreement, unconsciously drifting closer to her. – Perhaps.-

They led his horse to the small stable beside the home, and he gathered his packs. – I brought something for you and Haldan.- with great care he pulled the bundle of fabric out of his bigger pack, and pressed it into her hands.

-He will be overjoyed you came. He likes you a great deal, you know?- she chuckled, accepting the gift. – You spoil him.-

-Well, why shouldn’t I?- Caranthir smiled, entering the house, the logs of the walls even more intricately carved than the last time he had been there. -He is delightful, and your heir besides.-

Said delightful heir had been apparently tasked with looking after the dinner on the stove, because from the door leading to the kitchen came an excited shriek and the blonde boy jumped out, an awful scab on the side of his face, one hand bound to his chest with a wrap. – Uncle Moryo!-

Caranthir startled seeing his state, making an odd noise. – Haldan! What happened to you, pityo?!- He opened his arms, hugging the boy carefully, discreetly looking him over for more injuries.

-He decided that climbing a tree at night was a wonderful idea, especially since the ground under it was mostly stone.- Haleth sighed. – And guess what, he broke his hand.-

-Oh, pityo.- Caranthir patted Haldan over his short blonde hair. – Have you learned something from this at least?-

-Don’t climb trees when it’s wet outside.- he mumbled into Caranthir’s over-tunic.

– Well, that is at least something.- Haleth snorted, ruffling his hair affectionately. - Now, how is the soup?-

-Not burnt.- Haldan mumbled again, looking exactly his nine years of age. – Mostly.-

-Oh, Eru.- Caranthir sighed, hefting him up to hold him on his hip, and going to salvage the dinner. The boy raised a flimsy protest that he was too old to be carried, but melted against Caranthir’s shoulder anyway.

The soup was not burned in any significant way, which was good.

Caranthir let it simmer for a moment more, focusing on soothing the throbbing pain of Haldan’s broken arm. He had enough younger brothers to know how to do this, letting his spirit suffuse the break and muffle the discomfort, ignoring the way his own arm started throbbing.

The boy perked up immediately when his pain disappeared, looking wide-eyed at Caranthir. -How did you do that?!-

-Elf magic.- he replied breezily, and Haldan squeaked, looking at his hand wide-eyed.

Haleth watched them from the doorway, smiling. -Now, since I think the soup isn’t ready yet, shall we see what Moryo brought us?-

-Yes!- Haldan shimmied out of his grip, darting towards her. She brought the packet to the table, unwrapping the red fabric carefully, as Caranthir tasted the soup to see if it lacked any spices. It wasn’t salty, at all. Well, Haldan was young still, he could learn the art of cooking. He took a careful pinch of salt from the spice-box, recognizing with amusement his own trade-network sigil on the lid, and added it to the soup.

-Caranthir.- Haleth said after a moment of complete silence, making him turn around. – What the fuck.-

- Why, you don’t like it?- he blinked, seeing her holding the vambraces he had commissioned from the Khazâd, true-silver with gem inlays in the shape of the crest of her house. – They should fit you well.-

Even Haldan had paused mid-unwrapping his parcel, blinking at them with huge eyes.

-Moryo, love...- Haleth opened her arms, overwhelmed. – Just. What.-

-They can double as armor, I know you don’t like jewelry too much. It’s mithril, practically indestructible.- he came up to her, smiling.

-How much did they cost.- she choked out with a faint air of horror.

- Two favors and a sum in gold. - he tilted his head. – Nothing I cannot gain back easily. The Casari are graceful trade partners. Go on, try them out. -

Haleth squeezed her lips into a thin line, putting them away on a shelf with an abrupt movement. – Later.-

Caranthir winced. He had hoped she would enjoy the gift. Well, he would do better next time. -Oh, all right? The soup is nearly ready.-

Haldan blinked at them again, and then decided not to worry about adult silliness, returning to his gift eagerly. It was a small army of leaden soldiers, a full squad of twenty, plus ten orcs as their adversaries.

The boy had no qualms about enjoying his gift, jumping off his seat to hug Caranthir with a shriek of glee. -Thank you, Uncle Moryo!- he laughed, and dashed off to stash them somewhere in the bowels of the house.

-Love.- Haleth said, once Haldan was out of the room, pointing in the general direction of the glimmering vambraces. – Why?-

-You deserve beautiful things.- he admitted sheepishly, feeling his ears pin back and heat rise on his cheeks.

Haleth whipped around, eyes narrowed, and caught his collar in one hand. Her grip was strong, holding him securely, even as she made him back up to the wall, more or less throwing him onto the bench here.

He blinked up at her, a reversal of their usual perspective, and she grabbed him by the base of his main braid, tilting his head back.

-You are insane.- she said curtly, and kissed him with passion.

All air fled him, mind blanking, feeling her lips and teeth against his mouth. His spirit sang at the touch, and he wanted nothing more but for her to undo him, here and now, because she could, because it would only take a few words.

But Haldan was in the house, and dinner would be ready in a few moments.

-Haleth, the soup.- he managed to choke out weakly, and she reluctantly pulled away, eyes aflame and expression savage enough to make him whimper.

-Hmph.- she harrumphed, tugging at his braid lightly. – What exactly you think you need to do to seduce me, stupid? It would have been enough to ask. True-silver vambraces! Preposterous.-

He made a strangled sound. – I wasn’t...It...- he made himself breathe slower, his entire face burning. – You just... deserve beautiful things. – he finished lamely, wishing desperately that his heart would stop trying to hammer it’s way out of his chest.

Haleth rolled her eyes at him with fondness. – Well now I feel seduced anyway.- she laughed, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. – But you are right about the soup. I can thank you properly for the gift later.-

****

The nicest thing about Caranthir was, in Haleth’s humble opinion, his warmth. The snow had thawed already, but there was still the slight chill in the air at night, so having a personal heater was more than convenient.

She mused on this, shifting to burrow her face in the crook of his neck. He watched her with those slightly unsettling silver eyes, holding her close, a faint light suffusing the air just over his skin.

-I hope I satisfied you tonight, My Lady.- he murmured.

-You always do.- she mumbled back, thoroughly enjoying the heavy buzz of her bones and the blankness of her mind. She felt safe and cared for, the worries of everyday stashed half-forgotten with her clothes on the floor.

It was amusing to her, how he still asked that, like if he didn’t know. For all that he never managed to last long and got overwhelmed more often than not, he was very good at taking care of her.

The peculiar feeling she had come to associate with his mind brushing against hers set itself around her like a blanket, letting her know without any shade of uncertainty that he had also enjoyed himself, the flickering red-gold of his flames in the corner of her eye dancing lazily. She snorted, thinking very loudly; Tell me a story?

Which one? He replied the same way, somehow sounding so much richer in his head than out loud.

Whatever you wish.

Caranthir chuckled, pressing a slow kiss to the crown of her head. – I’m too tired to think of anything, I’m afraid.- he admitted in the breathy mumble of somebody at the edge of sleep.

-Then just talk about anything.- she sighed, running her hand over the plane of his chest, enjoying the silk-soft texture of his skin. He was beautiful, handsome in a way that bordered pretty. With a soft smile she traced the line of his collarbones, pressing a kiss to his neck on a whim, right over one darkening love-bite.

Her husband shifted at that, still a bit overwhelmed, and drew the covers more securely around her shoulders, intercepting her wandering hands. -All right. If you don’t mind me talking about fabrics and looms, I could dredge up some energy I think.- he exhaled slowly, the light of him brightening and dimming in places, like reflections on the surface of a pond. – Or I could start describing how radiant you look in my eyes, for I’m rather sure I could not exhaust this topic for days, and it would not require any effort on my part.-

Haleth groaned. -Moryo, love, neither of us has the energy for another round, stop being so...goey.-

Caranthir pouted at that, chuckling into her hair. – My people are called Quendi for a reason. I express my awe with words, and my awe at your beauty and existence could fill a whole book, I feel like. My father did write a tome of poetry for my mother, and children are supposed to surpass their parent’s achievements, after all.-

-Moryo.- she hissed at him, knowing well that he could go on in this vein for hours unchecked. – Stop it.- She wasn’t lying about being too tired for anything but sleep, but if he continued being so unbearably sweet she didn’t know what she would do to him.

He laughed softly, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. – All right. Looms it is, then. Curvo recently made some adjustments to one of our best models, and the testing went really well...-

Haleth nestled herself more comfortably in the warm arms of her husband, listening to him talk about his precious fabrics and looms, alliances with dwarves, taxes and whatever else his never ending memory was busy with, and let sleep claim her, drifting away with every melodic word.

****

Caranthir lurched awake, gasping for breath, clutching at his chest. He scrambled to sit, sweat suddenly breaking out across his brow.

Something had happened. He didn’t know what, but the snap he had felt deep in his soul spread like a cool ache across his collarbones, not painful, but so very weird.

It was dark, the sun not having yet risen, and the air had a slight bite to itself when he heaved deep breaths, hands feeling weak.

Haleth’s nearly silent snores quietened as she opened her eyes groggily, woken up by his startle. -Wazzit…? Moy’o?- she mumbled out, looking puzzled.

The cool ache started to burn, making him tense, before a wave of sheer exhilaration swept over him, a keen escaping his throat. It was good, it felt like flying, but he had no idea what was happening, why he suddenly wanted to weep, jittery and hungry for touch. – I...- he managed, pressing the heel of his hand hard into his sternum, trying to ground himself. – Something happened.-

His wife blinked at him in the darkness, burrowed under the covers up to her nose. – Huh?- she eloquently asked for clarification.

Caranthir slowly lowered himself back onto the pillows, trying not to gasp when the odd feeling spiked again, like a soft, undemanding pull somewhere under his collarbones that made his stomach flutter and something unidentified sweep through his spirit. He grit his teeth, covering his face with his hands.

What was happening? He had never before felt anything like that, and he had seen his father die , his nephew get born.

Haleth poked him between his ribs, evidently annoyed that he had made the warmth escape from under the covers, drawing them back over him, and her touch felt like a lightning strike, making colors dance before his eyes.

-Fuck.- Caranthir croaked out, the tugging growing more insistent, and Haleth withdrew her hand, making a soft noise of concern.

He wanted so bad to give up to that pull, a gut deep, wrenching want buzzing through him with each soft tug.

He let go with a muffled gasp, nearly instinctively, and the sudden intensity of the wrong-wrong-too-far-not-enough that raked across his bones made him lurch sideways to wrap his wife up in his arms, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, heaving for air.

Haleth hugged him back, shushing him softly, running one hand over his hair, offering a steady harbor, so he reached out with his spirit, trying to ground himself in the feel of her.

Something sparkled, the moment he did so, a flare of feeling intense enough to make him breathless.

Suddenly as it came, the awful lack disappeared, leaving him with the fierce, jittery need to hold Haleth close.

Caranthir shivered, head to toe, wrapping himself more securely around his wife, calming down his breathing, each inhale fragrant with the smell of Haleth’s hair, of the nettles she used to wash it, grounding himself in the feeling of her fingers running over his scalp.

-What happened, love?- she murmured after a moment, when his breath hitched again with a helpless sob of overwhelm despite his best efforts, for even naked as they were the touch was not enough.

-I don’t know.- he choked out into her neck, feeling as if, if he were to stop holding her, he would be unmade.

-Shhh, it’s all right. You are safe.- with a soft sort of tenderness that was rare for her, she slunk her hand out of his grip to cup his cheek gently, running one thumb over his cheekbones.

He shuddered again, overcame with all the feelings churning through him, tightening his arms even further around Haleth and closed his eyes to focus on the shape of himself better.

His spirit felt somehow off, like if there was a new piece of it that wasn’t before, a bond connected to a yet empty space that everything in him yearned to fill. Hesitantly, softly, he inspected that new, aching strand, and found that the empty space at its end was not completely void.

There was the same spark of bright potential slumbering there that he had felt earlier, a tiny lick of white flame like a star in the night.

Caranthir gently cradled that spark with his spirit, awe like firelight spilling over his whole being, beginning in that point.

It was so singularly bright, like the strike of inspiration at the beginning of a project, so beautiful, tiny, and fragile he couldn’t do anything else, but stare and feel overwhelmed tears streak down his face.

-Moryo, love, shhhhh, what happened?- Haleth’s voice reached him as if from some faraway place, for all that she had to be whispering into his ear.

-I... don’t know?- again he breathed out without conscious input, tangentially aware of the fact that he was weeping, all of his focus on that tiny thing fluttering at the edge of his very being.

He gently sent a soft current of warmth-strenght down that hair-thin strand of a pathway, widening it slightly, the spark growing brighter, burning steadier.

With a bone-deep surety he suddenly knew what it meant.

Caranthir choked on an incredulous laugh, breath wheezing in his throat. – Eru Iluvatar Who Art Above.- the prayer in Quenya spilled out of his lips unwittingly as he pulled back from the embrace, just enough to look Haleth in the eyes, ignoring the keen of his heart that wanted nothing else but to stay as close as they had been, cradling that tiny, precious flame. -Haleth.-

-What happened, Moryo?- his wife, this beautiful, contrary, impossible being asked, pressing the other calloused hand to his cheeks too, wiping away the tears that ran freely from his eyes, as if she didn’t know...

Because she did not know.

The realization slammed into him like a war-hammer.

She didn’t know, because she couldn’t know, Edain couldn’t feel those things, Edain didn’t…

Caranthir froze, torn between the sudden spike of ice-cold dread and an impossible to quench joy.

-Haleth.- he whispered, the name tasting soft where his accent rounded it into something musical. – Haleth, you...- he swallowed harshly, cradling her face with trembling fingers. - I...I just felt a new life spark into being.-

A small wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows for a moment, before her eyes widened, the blue-green of them luminous in the light he shed. -Oh.- she blinked a few times, looking at him with awe. -You mean...?-

He could only smile at her, a bright, tremulous expression and nod, beyond words.

She dragged him into a kiss, long, warm, filled with raw emotion, believing him without a second of further hesitation.

-I didn’t know you could do that. Feel that, I mean. I can’t.- she whispered out after they broke apart, fingers trembling slightly where they rested against the divot of his neck and collarbone. – I had thought we wouldn’t be able to conceive at all.-

Caranthir pressed his forehead against hers. – I had thought so too.- he admitted, trying not to start weeping again. -I...I could...- he swallowed, closing his eyes and opening his mind to her instead of trying to explain. -Look.-

Haleth with shock-curiosity peered through their bond, and he showed her the tiny spark he had cradled with such care, burning steady and bright.

-Oh, Moryo. It’s...so small.- she whispered, forge-fire bright behind his temples, before suddenly dimming, cold doubt wrapped with black claws around her mind. – I...We should wait a few weeks.-

-What?- he flinched back from the sudden change, instinctively swaddling the tiny flame in a protective layer of his own spirit against the dark fear.

-It...It’s easy to lose it this early on.- Haleth grit her teeth, hiding in his shoulder. He made a wounded noise. No. It was an unthinkable thing, to lose that little flame. She tightened her hand around his arm, shaking her head. – Caranthir. We should wait before we celebrate, just to be sure. It’s so tiny, Moryo. I… Something might yet happen, it’s not set in stone.-

Caranthir felt icy fear settle into his bones. – All right. I...All right.- he managed to whisper out against her hair, cradling that spark with all of his focus, wrapping it in as much protection and love as he could, and holding Haleth closer. -But nothing will happen.-

- If you say so, love.- she exhaled against his collarbone, holding him back just as tightly. – I hope so. Oh, Moryo, fuck, I know what you do is not magic, but when you show me things like this… Fuck, I will cry so bad if something happens, when I else I would have never known.-

-I’m sorry.-

-Don’t be.- she hissed at him, fire in her eyes.- This...I wouldn’t have known for a month at the very least, I might have never known. Moryo, it’s so bright, even this tiny. Don’t you dare be sorry for showing me that, don’t!-

Caranthir pressed his lips to the crown of her head, squeezing his eyes shut. – Nothing will happen.- he whispered, pouring all of his conviction into his words. – Nothing, you hear me?-

Haleth only laughed desperately into his shoulder.

****

The next day sneaked up on them, sun already quite high in the sky when Haldan came to wake them up, with all the energy of a somewhat anxious child.

Haleth blinked at her nephew blearily, unsticking her forehead from Caranthir’s shoulder. – Good morning.-

-Auuuuunnnttttt….- Haldan whined, tugging at the foot that she had stuck out of the covers to cool down. – You overslept. Are you all right? -

Haleth blinked at him again, biting her tongue not to say something hasty. – Yeah.- she sighed, after a moment. – I’m all right. Why?-

- I got worried.- Haldan pouted, short hair in adorable disarray, because he had apparently not washed himself in the morning yet. – You always wake up with the sun. And Hundad is being rude about Uncle Moryo again, says he brings bad things. -

She groaned, flopping back onto the pillows. – Of course he is. All right, Hal, I will be up in a moment. Go wash up.-

The boy narrowed his eyes at her. – You look like you were crying. And Uncle Moryo looks...- he wrinkled his nose, making a face. – Like a beaten rag.-

-Ai, you little scoundrel.- she rolled her eyes at him, propping herself up on one arm. – We are all right, don’t worry. Just a long night. Now scram, and make good use of the comb, else I will sic Moryo on you.-

-But I can’t use the comb one-handed, Aunt!- Haldan squeaked at the threat, seemingly reassured enough to bolt out of the room. By the sounds of it he went to search for something to eat in the kitchen.

Haleth exhaled slowly, sliding out of bed, and hastily put on some clothes. She smiled at the tunics she had, choosing the spring-green one that her husband had made, with embroidered flowers sneaking like vines over her hands. For fresh beginnings and new growth. It felt symbolic, somewhat, and she snorted quietly, dryly amused.

Symbols had never helped anyone, but a fool could hope.

She hesitated in the doorway, looking back at the sleeping form of her husband.

Caranthir slept like a stone, closed-eyed and steady. He did it seldom, but she wasn’t particularly surprised. He had cried himself to sleep, after all, no matter that those had been tears of happiness.

Haleth left him to it. He would fuss once he woke up, and she would be extremely lucky if she managed to redirect his efforts onto Haldan.

Actually, Haldan would probably appreciate them, the little spoiled brat.

She spotted his golden head in the kitchen as he tried to pry open a cabinet over the stove without climbing on anything one-handed. -Hey, Hal, what are you doing?- she chuckled at him, catching him by the middle and yanking him onto the ground, off the stove-top. Thankfully Moryo had put out the fire last night, so it was cold, but the sight of her too-tiny, lanky, already injured nephew climbing things was harrowing enough.

Haldan shimmied out of her grip expertly, pouting at her. – I was going to make tea.-

Haleth raised her brow at him. -With cold water?-

-Uh.- he blinked, suddenly realizing the rather glaring hole in his plan. – Ah. I wanted to make tea.-

She snorted, ruffling his hair, that he hadn’t adjusted yet despite her reminder. – Well, next time wait for somebody who can reach the cabinets without climbing, would you? Now, have you been to the chicken shed to get us eggs for breakfast?-

He shook his head. – I’m gonna go now!-

-Remember to leave one under each chicken so they know where to lay them!- she called after him when he dashed towards he door.

-I know, I know!- he laughed, disappearing outside, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Haleth sighed, methodically moving through the motions of cleaning the stove and lightning the fire for the day.

She was scared and anxious, she could admit that to herself.

But the sight of the sparks flying off her flint stone as she struck it with a knife brought an involuntary smile to her face. As the fire started licking the thin strips of wood, gnawing on them cheerfully, she closed her eyes, recalling that shared sensation of bright-new-potential that Moryo had shown her.

Never in her life she had seen something so beautiful yet fragile, especially coated in the complicated, insanely intense emotions of her husband as it was.

She smiled wider, hiding her mouth behind one hand. She hadn’t even known that she had wished for a child of her own blood, having Haldan to raise as her heir, but now that the chance was there… Yes, she wanted it with a startling intensity.

Closing the upper metal door of the stove and opening the ash-gatherer for better air-circulation she stood up, carefully filing away that clawing sort of hope that had woken somewhere behind her sternum.

She needed not to get too hopeful right away. Only time could tell.

A flash of light caught the corner of her eye, and she turned around, frowning. The sun glimmered off the smooth, bright surface of the vambraces her absolutely impossible husband had thought to acquire for her.

Rolling her eyes fondly she took them off the shelf, inspecting them closer now that she could think about them without the frantic screech of value calculations in the back of her mind. Her people weren’t that deprived that they had to trade away their jewelry, and while most of them had only gold, silver or some gems that the Noldor sold them with glee for cheap, it was not a slight against them for the chieftain to wear true-silver.

Especially not because the vambraces had the heraldic symbol of their whole tribe inlaid into them with chipped gems and copper, the details meticulous as only dwarven craftsmen could achieve.

She turned them around in her hands, seeing with fondness the elvish script on the inside of them, the first two lines of her favorite battle-song.

Caranthir was impossible with his gifts. Absolutely insane.

Haleth put them on with reverence, clasps snapping shut with a crisp sound.

Of course they would fit her exactly.

With a deep sigh she rolled her wrists, bending her elbows, and found no obstacle in movement. The vambraces were so light she could barely feel them as she moved, but they glimmered and cast reflections of the sunlight all around.

She liked them. They were decidedly too much, but she liked them.

Keeping them on would make people stare. On the other hand, it would make Caranthir even more inordinately happy than he already was, and she loved the sight of his smile, rare as it was.

With a fond smile she left them on, and went to prepare the tea Haldan apparently desired. He promptly returned with the eggs, still warm from the chickens, and she thanked him. Making scrambled eggs was easy enough that she managed to bind his broken hand to his chest again while the pan warmed up, even as he protested weakly that it didn’t hurt anymore.

She knew full well that he was either lying or the thing Moryo had done was still in effect, and even if it wasn’t, he needed that hand to heal properly.

Either their bickering or the smell of the eggs had to have woken Caranthir, because something suddenly crashed in the other room, making them both blink bemusedly at the door.

A moment later the harried looking elf-lord appeared, hastily dressed in a rumpled tunic, dark hair in disarray. He stumbled into the kitchen, shoulders slumping when he saw them, muttering a relieved curse in elvish.

-Good morning, Uncle Moryo!- Haldan recovered his wits first, cheerfully escaping Haleth’s ministrations to hug him.

Caranthir gladly accepted the hug, dropping to his knees to squeeze Haldan better. – Good morning, pityo.- he murmured, voice still groggy. – How is the hand doing?-

-Much better.- the boy giggled, probably because Caranthir’s hair, despite its intimidating length, was very soft and ticklish. – And are you all right?-

-More than, little one.- he smiled brightly, looking over at her. She smiled back, raising one eyebrow.– I’m very happy.-

-That’s good. I wanted to make you tea, because you looked like you were crying, but uhhh...- Haldan shrugged awkwardly. – It didn’t work. But I brought eggs!-

-Really? Thank you, pityo.- Caranthir gently grabbed his head, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and smoothing his hair with one hand, before standing up again.

-Hal, could you put the cutlery on the table, please?- Haleth asked, coming up to kiss her husband on the cheek.

Haldan made a disgusted face at them, and quickly did as he was bid.

Caranthir wrapped his arms around her shoulders, leaning down to whisper into her ear. – My Lady, you have given me a scare disappearing like that.-

-Oh, love.- she snorted, petting his ear, that flicked back from her touch in an unconscious motion. – You were sleeping soundly, I didn’t want to wake you.-

He made a soft noise in the back of his throat, hesitantly ungluing himself from her back to help carry the food to the table. -Well, I nearly had a heart attack anyway.-

-Silly elf.- Haleth tugged at one strand of his hair that swung loose, making him miss a step, a blush immediately blooming on his face.

-Haleth!- he hissed at her, embarrassed, flicking his eyes to where Haldan was sitting at the table, merrily playing with his new leaden solider figurines.

She laughed at his plight. -I will braid it for you later.-

Caranthir only made another embarrassed sound at that, and slid his hand over his face. – You will be the death of me.-

Haleth smiled like a shark. – Good. Now, let’s eat.-

The scrambled eggs disappeared quickly enough, both of her boys apparently ravenous.

She wasn’t surprised about Haldan, since he was in this awkward moment of the first growth-jump, and usually ate anything that was set before him without complaint, but Caranthir made her a bit puzzled. He was usually rather picky with food that he hadn’t cooked himself.

And wasn’t that something strange? Caranthir always insisted on doing the cooking when he came over to visit, treating it like a sacred duty. She liked that. He did more of the typically women’s jobs, with no complaint, and sometimes even rather eagerly, than she did, and never even said anything disapproving about her warrior-like tendencies. It was refreshing.

But his appetite made her raise her eyebrows.

He caught her eyes from across the table, smiling wryly as he inhaled his third sandwich. – There are things that take a lot from an elf. – he said idly in lieu of an explanation, moving one of Haldan’s soldiers to attack an orc figurine the boy was holding.

Haldan shook the orc threateningly, making battle noises with his mouth, and knocked over Caranthir’s figure. -Like battle, right? Battles are tiring.- the boy observed smartly as Caranthir mimed defeat.

-That they are, Hal.- Haleth sighed fondly, amused by their antics.

They moved to gather and wash the dishes, chatting about everything and nothing.

Haldan got quickly bored of their conversation, and, grabbing his new toys, ran out to meet with his friends.

Caranthir watched him go. – How old is he, again?-

- Eight, nearly nine.- Haleth cocked her head, leaning against the counter next to him. – Why?-

He only pressed his lips into a thin line, ears flickering downwards. – He is as big as an elfling of twenty.- he admitted quietly, worried.

Haleth made a face, considering the implications. – Well. Fuck. How long an elvish baby is in the... screamy stage?-

-An elfling can run and more or less talk at four year-turnings of age.- Caranthir turned, to look her in the eyes. – I’m staying.-

-What?- she blinked, knocked out of the unpleasant calculations.

- I’m not leaving you.- he grit his teeth, pressing his palm to his chest. He said it in the plural, and Haleth melted a bit. – It… I don’t know how it works for the Edain, but for the Eldar both parents are responsible for the growth of the child. I don’t think you can feel their feä like I do, and they...You saw it yourself. They are so...-

-Tiny and fragile.- Haleth breathed out, inclining her head. – I get it.-

Caranthir clasped her hand in his, bringing it up to his chest. – If my brothers can leave their realms for months at a time to go hunting, I can damn well stay with my wife while she is expecting our child.- he whispered softly, running his thumb over her knuckles, and Haleth felt her heart skip a beat at hearing it said so plainly.

-All right.- she managed to say, swallowing harshly. – All right. Do you need a runner to send to Reír?-

-No, I can pass all the messages that I need via bird.- Caranthir smiled, pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand. – Your people always can use a skilled weaver, right?-

-Yes. I know you can work for yourself, don’t worry.- she smiled back, a tentative, slightly shocked expression.

His words echoed in her mind, plain, unapologetic, true, when the truth was so fragile still.

While she is expecting our child.

- Haldan will be happy I’m staying, won’t he? He always whines so much when I have to go.- he chuckled, unbearably radiant, with a distinctly lovesick expression on his face.

-Caranthir. Shut the fuck up,- she said, freeing her hand and catching him by his collar. – and stop being so utterly sweet, or I will do something rash.-

He just smiled brighter, silver eyes shining.

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~~~~

A month later, May 377 F.A.

Caranthir had forgotten how simple life could be.

Officially, he was on a sabbatical, more or less. To strengthen alliances between the people of Thargelion.

At least that was what he had told Maedhros in the letter he sent preemptively warning him of his absence from Reír.

Unofficially, well.

He leaned his head back against the shin of his wife, fingers flying over the embroidery on the hem of a shirt he was making, even as she reached to pat his head fondly from where she was making a tally of the materials for the buildings they wanted to build this summer, to give him later too look over.

Most villagers had adapted to his presence with wry amusement, and even those who had glared at him most intensely mellowed out after he finished the first roll of linen cloth, the loom he built off the new schematics letting him burn through thread by miles.

He was just simply, uncomplicatedly happy.

Haldan’s arm had mended wonderfully, and the boy was eager to be taught, so when Caranthir wasn’t weaving, cooking, or fussing over his wife he was busy teaching him how to read and write both the Cirth and Tengwar, speak both Sindarin and Quenya, and what was considered good manners where.

Haldan was a smart boy, and took to the arts of diplomacy like a fire. He would probably soon regret teaching him how to argue, but if Haldan was meant to one day lead his people, that skill was invaluable.

Right now he was soundly asleep in his small room in the rafters, and if Caranthir closed his eyes he could just about sense him somewhere at the edge of his consciousness.

He was doubly hard to locate for the blinding brightness of his marriage bond and the small flame of his child, steadier and brighter with every passing day.

Caranthir spent the nights where he didn’t need to sleep curled up around Haleth, pouring his own strength and warmth drop by drop down that fledgling bond.

He had not realized how blinding the difference would be, for he thought about Haldan as his own in all matters that were relevant, but the sheer contrast made him incredibly protective, about both him and that tiny thing that seemed to exist only in his mind still.

How could he make sure Haldan was all right, was shielded enough from the Darkness, when he couldn’t reach out and cradle his spirit like that? He had formidable shields by the matter of his Edain nature, but it irked Caranthir.

They had all made fun of Curvo when he had flown into a tizzy at Tylepë’s begetting, but now he understood his brother’s snarling skittishness all too well.

That tiny sparkle burning steadily in a hidden corner of his spirit made him incredibly protective, made Caranthir want to weep every time he was too far to sense it clearly.

Coupled with his unease at not being able to hold Haldan properly it made him fuss and have anxiety.

If he got too clingy Haleth just rolled her eyes at him, poking him with a finger between his ribs to make him stop.

But how could he not? When even the Oath seemed quietened in the face of the lights of his family? When his world had narrowed to keeping them safe and well?

Leaning back further he looked up at his wife, grinning stupidly. She had a concentrated frown on her face, the end of the stylus held in her teeth, the dancing firelight painting her loose hair gold and red.

The sun had shone brightly for the last week, and she had regained her freckles, even through they were faint.

She was the most radiant being he had ever seen, and he had met the Lady of the Stars herself.

-Haleth.- he called out quietly. – Herinya.-

She blinked down at him with a questioning hum, cocking her eyebrow at the petname.

He wanted her to know Quenya, his cradle-tongue, and he had started slowly sneaking in terms and phrases into everyday conversations with the help of Haldan. She would learn, if only to outsmart them.

-What?- she asked after a beat of silence, tugging at one of his braids. – I have to finish this.-

-Herinya.- he repeated again, pressing a kiss to the outside of her knee. – Do you know what day it is today?-

Haleth frowned at him, a bemused smile on her face. – Some elvish holiday?- she guessed, and he could only laugh brightly.

-Haleth, tonight a month passes.- he murmured, letting that hope he had barely held in check unfurl its wings in his chest.

-Oh.- she blinked. – You are right.-

She looked into the distance for a moment, lost in her own head, before shaking herself all over, a tremulous smile blooming on her face. – And everything is still all right?-

- I would have told you the second something happened.- Caranthir put his embroidery away, hiding his face in her leg, unwilling to even contemplate the possibility. Nothing happened, and nothing would happen, and he was going to make sure of it. - Do you want to see?-

-Yeah.- she nodded, drawing him up to sit beside her on the bench. He kissed her softly, pressing his forehead to hers and opening his mind.

Her spirit brushing against his felt like forge-fire, like lightning, and he showed her the white flame of their baby through his eyes.

In the last few days it was growing less and less fuzzy, more and more grounded in the physical, so it no longer was just simply somewhere-existing but it glimmered low in her belly, and that made Caranthir feel so much that he wished to scream.

She caught his wrists where his hands steadied her head, eyes closed as she let out an incredulous laugh, mithril vambraces shining like two streaks of moonlight. -Moryo.-

-I know.- he breathed out, kissing her again, seeing his overwhelm mirrored in her.

Haleth’s fingers tightened around his wrists, and then she let go, catching him by the loose fabric of his shirt and pinning him to the wall. Her green-gray eyes glimmered in the candlelight, reflecting the Treelight of his own, and framed by the embers of the slowly dwindling fire of the stove she looked like an apparition, something too powerful and ephemeral for this marred world.

-Moryo.- she repeated, eyes wide. – We are going to have a child.-

He could only nod, love-drunk.

She made a soft noise, looking like all her world just got shaken, for once in a good way. – We are going to have a child.- she whispered again, and kissed him, a nearly violent thing in its fervor.

Caranthir drew her closer, burrowing his fingers in her hair, and let her have anything she wanted from him.

~~~~

Three weeks later (7^th week) June 377 F.A.

Haleth only now started to notice any signs in herself, and it was slightly frightening.

She wouldn’t have even suspected, if not for Moryo. It was nearly two months from the begetting, and only now she could notice any signs if she looked for them.

Well. The nausea was the most noticeable one, as well as the suspicious absence of her cycle, but she probably would have overlooked them, dismissing the nausea as some stomach bug and forgetting about the fact that she should have bled already that month altogether.

But she knew, and it made her both happy and scared.

Caranthir was as fussy as she expected him to be, looking at her with wide, trembling eyes each time they went to sleep, gently lying a hand on her still flat belly, nearly reverent in his moves when he held her.

It was very sweet of him, truly, but she could go without his worried glances every time she did, well, anything. Powers forbid she went somewhere out of his earshot and didn’t tell him, he would fly into a panicked tizzy and then cry a bit when he stopped fussing.

He cried more than she did, and it was her that was meant to be hormonal. For a man he was very weepy, but on the other hand she could kind of understand where he was coming from. His emotions weren’t like human ones. He felt everything sharply, starkly, and the mix of worry and protective love that stirred in him was overwhelming even second-hand.

Every time he showed her the tiny, bright flame of their baby she felt overwhelmed herself, by the size of it, by the fragility, by the responsibility she held for it.

So yes, she understood why he would be anxious when he lost sight of her, well, of them both. (If he didn’t stop using the plural to refer to her, she was going to do something to him he wouldn’t like. Or would like too much. It was a thin line with him.)

But that didn’t mean she was not slightly annoyed with her husband.

It was admittedly difficult to stay annoyed with him for long, when he said things so utterly sappy she could feel her teeth itch from the sweetness.

Caranthir was teaching Haldan, and Haldan was very happy about that. He had attached himself to Moryo like a barnacle and valiantly attempted to copy his melodic accent, which led to many laughs between her people.

Moryo seemed equally besotted with Haldan, thankfully sometimes focusing his fussing on the boy and not on her. The little menace actually liked having his hair braided, even if there wasn’t really much to braid.

Haleth only was glad that it was her who needed an heir, not him, because sometimes he seemed to want to steal Haldan to his fortress and make an elf princeling out of him. Which, she supposed, was what he wanted to do with her too, but he knew that it would be met with heavy resistance.

So Caranthir fussed, and cooked, and wove, and patiently taught Haldan his letters, and Haleth tried not to hold his anxiety against him.

~~~~

A month later (3^rd month) July 377 F.A.

Caranthir curled himself around his wife, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. It was the first hours of sunrise, the sky behind the window barely beginning to tint rose, but he didn’t sleep.

He had walked the paths of his mind for a few hours, and felt rested enough.

Haleth was barely starting to show, and he couldn’t help, but gently lay his hands over that barest of bumps, the soft feedback of life-potential-new thrumming under his palms.

Softly, carefully, he let some of his strength down the bond, the little flame of their child steadying.

He was terrified, and he didn’t wish to show it to Haleth. He was strong in spirit, barely weaker than his father, in fact, as all of his brothers were, except for the Ambarussa who seemed to share half of their soul between them, but he was slowly with a sinking sort of dread realizing that this strength might fail him yet.

Caranthir closed his eyes, keeping the image of that beloved lick of flames in his mind, and tried to breathe slowly.

Edain pregnancies were very different from Quendi ones. Haleth was not as much bonded in spirit with their baby as purely physically, and it made her vomit, made her crave odd food, made her mind-shields tighten to the point where he could barely reach her even while pressing his forehead to hers.

He was very, very anxious about her. She insisted this was all normal, but he couldn’t make himself truly believe that. They had talked about any differences they could spot, and it made his blood freeze cold when he realized that Edain carried for three months less than Quendi.

A child born three months too early was very, very rare. It was usually because something atrocious happened to the parent carrying it, and rarely anyone of the family involved survived that. Sometimes the baby did, if the parents spent the last of their strength on keeping them alive, but… Caranthir was terrified something would happen to Haleth because of the birth, because that would break him, and he couldn’t alone keep their child alive.

There was little that could scare an elf so much as the possibility of losing a spouse when they are having a child. It could be a danger in the best of cases, and a death sentence in the worst.

And three months too early was a terrible, yawning distance for an infant.

The Ambarussa had come two months early, and he had not seen them for the next four to be set down from his parent’s arms, always somebody holding them, and holding their spirits in place.

He wasn’t sure if he could himself manage to do the same thing, but he would sooner throw himself into the sea than let his child suffer any lack.

Caranthir pressed a soft kiss to Haleth’s neck, listening to her quiet snores.

No, it was unthinkable that harm would come to either her, or their child.

Three months early or not. The baby was half-Edain, so maybe it would help. Maybe that would balance the timing somehow.

The closest comparison they had was Lúthien, but they couldn’t exactly...ask Greycloak how that pregnancy went, now could they? She was permaia anyway, and Melian, as one of Yavanna’s, was very familiar with shaping life.

It was not really a comparable situation.

So they were going in blind, unless they were willing to ponder the case of mules and hinnies, which Caranthir was rather unenthusiastic about.

He was not a horse.

Snorting softly at the thought he exhaled, running his hand up and down Haleth’s rib-cage, over the curling vine of the chieftain tattoo over her sixth rib.

Nothing would happen.

****

Haldan blinked at them, gray eyes wide. -A baby?- he asked, slowly smiling, like a living ray of sunshine peeking from behind clouds.

Caranthir smiled widely at the boy, kneeling before him on one knee and taking one of his hands in his own, like he remembered his father doing to him when Curvo was on the way. – Yes, pityo.-

Haleth chuckled with amusement, ruffling Haldan’s hair. – You will be an older cousin, Hal. Excited?-

Haldan glanced between them, flopping his free hand in the air with an odd sound. – Yes! – he laughed, freeing himself from Caranthir’s gentle grip and hugging Haleth like a vice. – A baby! Like little Bren?-

-Exactly.- Haleth hugged him back, smiling. – You will need to be very good, babies are delicate.-

-Mhm. I know. Bren’s mom let me hold him. He is so tiny! It will be that tiny too?-

Caranthir snorted. – Maybe even tinier.-

-Wow.- Haldan unglued himself from his aunt, smiling widely, before he suddenly frowned. – Wait. Does that mean you will be a mom too?-

-Yes, why, Hal?-

Haldan dimmed a bit. – Oh.-

-Haldan.- Caranthir tapped his shoulder to make him look at him, catching his gaze with a serious expression. – We are not going to stop caring for you, pityo. We love you very much, you know? This is not going to change just because there will be a new child in the house. – he reassured him, and promptly had to brace himself against the full weight of an enthusiastic hug from the boy. – Oh, Haldan, little one, you will choke me.-

-Uncle Moryo.- Haldan squeezed him harder, and Caranthir just tucked his head into his shoulder, consigning himself to being slightly strangled.

-Moryo is right, Hal.- Haleth put a gentle hand on top of Haldan’s head, stroking his hair with her thumb. – We love you very much.-

- Good.- Haldan muttered into Caranthir’s shirt. – I love you too, Aunt, Uncle.-

- Now, having cleared that up...- Caranthir pressed a soft kiss to the side of Haldan’s head. – There are still a few months before they come, so you should learn as much as you can to be a good older b...cousin.- he barely caught himself before he said ‘brother’, glancing at Haleth to see if she had noticed.

Haldan was her nephew, and he didn’t want to overstep, no matter how easy it would be to claim him as his own. Caranthir could yearn as much as he wanted, but that wasn’t really his decision to make.

Haleth had in fact noticed, raising one eyebrow at him, faintly amused.

He grimaced. Well, here went his plausible deniability.

Haldan groaned. – Writing lessons?-

-Writing lessons. Come on, I will hold you while you practice.- Caranthir poked the boy with one finger, making him squirm out of his hold.

-All right, Uncle.- the put upon sigh he let out was entirely too adult-sounding, and Haleth broke out into laughter, ruffling his hair again.

~~~~

Some three months later (6^th month) September 377 F.A.

Haleth smiled at her husband, running her fingers through his hair. He lay sprawled over her, one pointy, moving ear pressed to her belly, a stupidly bright grin on his face when the baby kicked him in the cheek.

Which, ow. It was one of the oddest things she ever experienced, feeling her baby move, and it was a damn strong kicker too.

Getting kicked in the kidneys from the inside was unpleasant, made only slightly less curse-worthy by the lesser strength of it and by the way it was a sign that the baby was all right.

She supposed he didn’t really get the burnt of the blow, since it was her stomach that was being kicked first, his face only second, but still. Her husband had to be absolutely love-drunk to enjoy that.

Caranthir was absolutely delighted by feeling the little one move, and Haleth was glad for his happiness. It was heartwarming, if sometimes he could get really stupid about it.

She remembered the rather gruff affection Haldar held towards his wife when she had been pregnant with Haldan, but if then it had seemed quite normal, now, having seen how Caranthir acts, she was kind of annoyed at her twin.

He had been an asshole to his wife, to be perfectly honest. She mentally apologized to her sister in law for not being kinder to her when she lived.

Her husband hummed a soft melody to the baby, pressing his lips to her belly, and it kicked him in the mouth, making him laugh.

Caranthir glowed softly, the odd light he shone with warm and inviting, and he looked up at her with a blinding smile she had seen him sport only when he was interacting with their baby or Haldan. -Herinya, they heard me.-

-Hard not to, love. You practically hummed it right into their ear, you know how water amplifies sound.- she chuckled, smoothing back some strands of hair that had fallen into his face.

He drew himself up, catching her lips in a soft, affectionate kiss, the hand he didn’t use to brace himself gently squeezing her shoulder.

-You are the most precious thing in my life. – he murmured, kissing her again, using that damn plural form that always made her melt a bit.

-Moryo.- she sighed against his lips, smiling. – Silly elf.-

He caught her ear in his teeth gently, pressing his nose into her hair. – You do not even realize how precious elflings are to the Eldar, do you?- he whispered. – No, how could you, when I never told you that, when your people have so many children.-

-Love, what do you mean?- she asked, running her fingers over the edge of his ear, making it swivel, the softest of hairs at the tip of it delicate under her fingertips. Haleth knew well he was a bit odd about children, treating them like something impossibly rare, impossibly precious, something to protect and cherish at all costs.

He treated Haldan as his own son, just because she was the one raising him. He would let the children of the village climb him like a tree, he would play with them and teach them things.

She had always assumed it was just a thing he did, that he liked interacting with children. There were people like that, she usually put them in the charge of schooling.

Caranthir huffed, breath warm and wet against the shell of her ear. – Haleth, how many children were born into your tribe just this half-year?-

She frowned. – Some forty or so, why?-

Well, forty that survived, because she was fairly sure there were at least ten more that did not, but that was beside the point. She tried to let parents that lost an infant have their privacy.

Caranthir made a soft noise, somewhere between awe and disbelief. – Herinya, forty children were born in Reír in the last century. Elflings are very fragile, and so, so, so precious to us.-

Haleth breathed out, frowning, fingers carding through his hair. – Forty that survived for the last century? How many of your infants die, if this is so dire?-

She felt her child move, and swallowed harshly. It was half-elda, after all. It was strong, but...

Caranthir jerked back, silver eyes wide. – None, Haleth. Forty were born, forty survived. Why would you assume that? We would rather die ourselves than let a child come to any harm. Why, heirnya?-

-Oh.- she blinked at him, the fear disappearing as abruptly as it had come. – So you just...have children so rarely? I do not think it’s an issue of...ability, you managed rather easily.-

He blinked back at her. – We beget children only in peacetime, if the conditions are good.- he explained, a small frown between his brows. – And I… Well, usually it’s the wife that decides when the time is right? I hadn’t really...withheld my Will, though I could probably have.-

-Wait.- Haleth smiled wryly up at her husband. – You mean that what you did that night was not your reaction to our child sparkling into being but you making our child sparkle into being?-

- I...In my defense, I hadn’t know what was happening, and when it happened I kind of assumed you wished for it too.- he exhaled slowly, pressing his forehead against hers. – And Haleth? I don’t think that I could have held myself back from pouring my spirit into the begetting of our child. I could have taken the possibility out of my seed, I think, but not...Haleth, to be perfectly honest, had I know what was happening I would have done the same and more.-

She kissed him softly, shutting him up. – I know. I’m glad you did.- The baby kicked her again, unusually squirmy. -Ow. I think it is displeased we stopped paying attention to it.-

Caranthir looked under himself, blinking. – Oh, dramatic little one.- He kissed her again, before rolling off of her and curling around her lower half, tangling their legs and letting his head rest against her sternum. – Now, do be a dear and let you Ammë sleep, would you?- he murmured, pressing his lips to her belly. – I know it’s really boring in there, but soon enough you will be running around. Enjoy the calm while it lasts.-

Haleth smiled, hiding her grin behind one hand.

- I can tell you a story if you want, but you need to keep calm, all right? Your Ammë needs her rest, but don’t worry, I will be there to keep you company, huh? Good little one.- Caranthir continued, completely earnestly, as serious as if he was making an important trade agreement. – I know it is a bit stuffy in there, but you will have ample opportunity to exercise your tiny little limbs tomorrow, when we are not sleeping. Shhh, little one.-

The baby calmed down, and he curled an arm around her belly, tilting his head back to look at her. – I think they shall cease their dramatics for now.- he murmured to her, smiling.

-You are insane, you know that.- she replied, closing her eyes and nestling herself more comfortably under the covers. – Absolutely insane.-

-I just love you both.-

-Caranthir, stop using that plural or I’m going to do something very stupid.-

-All right, herinya. Whatever my lady wishes.-

-...Moryo.-

Her husband just laughed, a bright, happy sound, and Haleth let herself drift off to sleep to the sound of him muttering a silly story to their baby.

~~~~

Two months later (8^th month) November 377 F.A.

Caranthir let his thoughts fly as he wove a square of cotton-silk fabric, singing a blessing-song over it.

He had managed to convince Haleth to come to Reír for those last weeks of the normal Edain term, because they didn’t know when the baby would come. They didn’t know what it would need right after birth, how much soul-support or physical care.

They knew nothing.

The midwives of the Haladin and his own healers had only looked them over and promptly sequestered themselves in the library to debate for hours, and still the best they could come up with was “wait and see”.

His skin burned with a cold terror, insides clenched from anxiety, and he had needed to get away, else he would make Haleth bite his throat out in sheer annoyance.

She was uncomfortable, and bloated, and all her joints hurt, and he couldn’t help a bit with that, no matter how much he wished he could, no matter how much he fussed.

He grit his teeth, pouring more Power into his song, suffusing the threads with as much of his protective-love-wish-for-good-hope as he could.

What he could do was make a blanket for his child, for his Craft made itself useful. He had the softest threads at his disposition here, in his fortress, the most advanced looms. He could make something that would be great enough to serve them.

The loom clacked under his hands, the shimmering, soft fabric taking shape, little eight-pointed stars on the edges, four Haladin trees in the corners, woven into the fabric itself. He would line it with another layer of soft cotton, golden-brown, soothing.

He understood with horrifying clarity his father’s disappearances into the forge before the Ambarussa were born. Why their cradles were made of twisted wire just brimming with Power. Why Atto had constantly seemed to want to climb on the walls from sheer, barely restrained, anxious energy.

Caranthir swallowed harshly, pausing his movements for a second.

And his father had known their mother was strong enough to have carried all five of them and that nothing had gone wrong before, unless one counted Tyleko coming two weeks early, which earned him his name.

He had no idea if Haleth would survive this.

The thought froze his blood and made his lungs squeeze. No, no, she was one of the strongest people he knew, she would be all right. They had at least four healers on their case, nothing would happen.

Forcefully wrenching his thoughts from that direction he focused on the weave.

Would it be a boy or a girl? Caranthir smiled softly. He couldn’t tell, for in children the shape of the hroä did not reflect in their feä, but it was fun to think about. He wanted a daughter, but a son would be equally beloved.

It would be really amusing, though, if he, first of all of his line, had a daughter.

She would be the most terrifying little person of their family, if only for the fact that all six her uncles would loom, fussing over her well-being with ten times the fervor they would show a boy. Which, now that he thought about that, would end very badly for them if she took after her mother.

A son would be more respected, outside of elvish settlements, for Edain had some odd concepts about the sexes.

Caranthir was rather confused about that, since Haleth had told him with an unhappy grimace that boys tended to be weaker at birth.

Both concepts could coexist, yes, but it was...illogical.

He rather hoped their baby would be strong, so he doubly wished for a daughter, if what Haleth told him was the truth.

The coiled snake of anxiety tightened in his gut. He had overheard the healers’ worried conversations about Edain babies, the differences in gestation and how premature could a baby come for them, and he had promptly fled the scene, but not before hearing something that terrified him to the bone.

Not all Edain babies that were born survived until adulthood.

Caranthir closed his eyes as his voice broke over the notes of the Song, taking a few forcibly slow breaths.

That was a possibility that he shouldn’t even consider. The Valar hadn’t been cruel enough to do that to Haru Finwë, they would not be so cruel to do that to him. They wouldn’t. He was Doomed, but his Doom was on him and not on his children, and they wouldn’t.

He kept telling himself that until the burn of fear batted down to a bearable level.

It didn’t matter that his spirit was spread thin, that his reserves of energy were depleted. It didn’t matter.

The flame of his child burned steady and bright, and their feä was strong.

They would be all right.

Every single one of his family would be all right.

Chapter End Notes

The next chapter contains potentially distressing content. If you want Caranthir and Haleth to stay happy, stop reading here.

If you don't mind Angst Pain And Suffering, in the notes of the next chapter you will find more detailed warnings.

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~~~~

12^th December 377 F.A., Fortress of Mount Reír.

Her labor wasn’t long. It wasn’t even that difficult. She was in good shape, the midwives had everything they could dream of and more, for the elvish one could do some sort of magic to streamline everything, and she was fine.

Caranthir had knelt at her side for the whole four hours of it, lost somewhere between fear and joy, and dropped off in exhaustion some half-an-hour ago, having spent all of his energy steadying the spirit of their child so it could be born safely. It was an elvish tradition, to have the father there during the birth, and she found herself very, very glad for it the moment she saw the expression on the face of Elder Breha as she lifted the baby up from the first bath.

She was doubly glad that Caranthir was currently dead to the world.

Haleth felt her heart stop for a second with grief as the little, too little boy was given to her to hold. He was beautiful, tiny head fuzzy with black hair, ears slightly pointed and still hairy, face red, scrunched up, so very small fists moving in fits like as if he was battling a foe.

With a sinking dread she understood; it was too early for him.

She swallowed back tears.

He was breathing very fast, little shallow gasps of air, unable to take a full breath and scream.

The foe he was battling was time, and he could not beat it.

-Oh, my baby.- she choked out, feeling her heart break. Caranthir was in this not-exactly-asleep state he got into, exhausted, for he had not slept for three days, and she glanced at him, wishing to spare him the grief for a few moments more.

The baby grunted, tiny face scrunched up in obvious pain, and she could feel the rapid beating of his heart under her hand, like that of a mouse. -Shh, little one, it’s all right. It’s all right.- she murmured, trying her best not to cry. – It will pass soon.-

Elder Breha came up to her, squeezing her shoulder. – Chief. I give it to sunrise, at most.- she said with grief and pity. – That’s a strong little warrior, but...-

-It is too early for him.- Haleth closed her eyes, biting back a sob, shoulders hunching. – I know.-

– You did well. You did all you could. The best thing you can do is hold him so he won’t be ever alone.- the elder pressed one hand to her hair, smoothing it back, a modicum of comfort. - Give him a name while you still can.-

-We will.- she murmured, gently touching her son’s cheek with one finger. It was smooth and warm, and the boy kicked out, the soft blanket far too big for him. He was barely the length of her forearm, and she wished she could do anything to help him breathe.

-I’m very sorry, child.- Breha squeezed her shoulder again. – I’m very sorry the world is cruel to you.-

-I...Thank you for your help, Elder.- Haleth leaned into the touch, and Breha stroked her hair again, before turning around to coordinate the rest of the cleanup.

After a moment that Haleth spent just staring at her baby, bouncing him in her arms gently, doing her level best not to break down, the elder left the room, and with her two of her helpers. The elvish healer stayed for a moment longer, lingering between wanting to stay and go, naked grief on her pretty face. – Lady Haleth.- she whispered. – His feä is strong. I can’ t tell for sure what kindred does it resemble more, but… -

- He is a strong little warrior, Breha is right.- she cut her off, readjusting the blanket over him. It was a warm thing, made with so much love it seemed to glow with it, and he seemed to calm down a bit when he was wrapped in it.

It didn’t help with the way his heart raced or his lungs didn’t want to take in air, but… Her baby would be in pain for his whole life and she couldn’t do a thing to help him, only hold him close and try to comfort him. She would take whatever she could.

– I don’t...he will find his way himself. Wherever he will go after he leaves us.- she said, cradling his still soft head very gently. -He is a little warrior, aren’t you, little one? Halpîn, yes, it fits you.- Haleth looked at the healer, who was watching Caranthir’s sleeping form with horror and pity. – What about my husband?-

-Losing a child is...- the elleth shook her head, lips pressed together. – Lord Caranthir is very entwined with this little one. It will hurt him badly.- she settled finally on that.

-Will he survive this?- Haleth asked, fearing the response. She had heard him say that losing either one of them would kill him, but she had always thought it a hyperbole, for he was dramatic when he could.

She didn’t want to know what she would do if she lost her son and husband the same day.

– The Lord will make it, if he doesn’t let himself succumb to the grief, and we are not going to let him even try. I’m so sorry we can’t do more.-

-Small mercies. Thank you.- Haleth nodded through the fast-gathering tears, dismissing the healer.

And then she was left alone with the sound of her son’s labored, lighting-fast breaths, little puffs of air that didn’t even let him scream his pain, and the regular sound of Caranthir’s exhales, as he slept with his head propped against her pillow, exhausted by the effort he pushed into steadying their son before birth.

Their son, whose spirit was strong enough, but body wasn’t.

She let go then, crying like her baby couldn’t, crying for the way she couldn’t have held the pregnancy longer and the way the little breaths of her son echoed in the silence and she was helpless to do anything.

Haleth was so tired, and in pain, and...

Halpîn was a tiny, warm weight against her breast. He was hers, he was her baby, her child.

She was going to lose him right after she picked him up for the first time.

It shredded her heart worse than the death of her brother and father had, and she could only cry, rocking her son softly. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that the world was cruel, and awful, and so beautiful and her baby would never learn it.

Haleth steadied her breaths, smiling through tears at her son, whose scrunched-up face and hairy ears she would remember until the day she died. -Oh, little one. My little warrior. Shhhh, shhh...I know, I’m sorry Halpîn, I’m sorry. Your Atto always calmed you down, huh? Shhh, I know it hurts little one, this will pass soon, and you won’t hurt anymore.- she pressed her lips to his fuzzy head, taking his tiny fist in her fingers. It was so fragile, but he gripped her pointer with surprising strength, grunting softly on each exhale.

He was in so much pain, and she couldn’t do anything to help, and it was killing her.

But if it was killing her, then her husband would be devastated.

She swallowed the tears, wiping them away into the corner of his blanket, and grit her teeth together. -Moryo.- she shook her husband’s shoulder. -Moryo, wake up.-

Caranthir blinked awake with a frown, the white film of sleep bleeding away from his eyes, and froze with a muffled gasp, face losing all color.

– No.- he choked out, scrambling to sit on the edge of the bed, hands trembling. – Haleth, why are they in so much pain?- he asked, voice anguished.

She looked at him, knowing full well her eyes were red-rimmed and full of tears. – It is… It is too early for him. I...congratulations, love, we have a son.- she managed, and Caranthir bent in half as if he had been cut down, fingers digging into his scalp.

-Haleth. - he keened, eyes unfocused. – He... he was meant to be alright, why is he in pain? Why...What... -

-Moryo.- she said quietly, swallowing her own grief. – He can’t breathe. He...for him it is too early still, he came too early. He is not going to make it to see the sun rise, love.-

Caranthir looked at her, suddenly blank. – What?-

-Caranthir Morifinwë Feanorion, your son was born too early and is dying. – Haleth said as clearly as she could, finger still trapped in the hold of her baby. – Get your shit together, and at least help me make it as painless as possible for him, please Moryo, I just...I can’t.- her voice broke, and Halpîn in her grasp shifted, each breath pointed with an awful grunt-and-whistle from his too-fragile lungs.

Her husband was frozen, staring at their baby, so very tiny that he seemed to drown in the brown-red blanket. Haleth swallowed again. – Caranthir. Hold him now while you still have the chance. Love, please, make it matter. Make those few hours he has matter and not be only pain, Moryo, please.-

He seemed to unfreeze with a startle, silent tears starting to run down his face, and he reached out to take Halpîn from her. She let him, even though the wild animal in her chest raged against it, claws of pained grief raking across her.

Moryo held their son like the most precious, fragile thing in the world, eyes glowing and skin shining brighter with each labored breath of the boy, face blank if for the tears and the wideness of his eyes. He whispered something in Quenya she couldn’t quite understand, pressing his lips to his head with excruciating tenderness.

The grunt-and-whistle of the too-fast breaths didn’t quieten, but the boy relaxed a bit, face not scrunched up anymore.

Caranthir’s breaths took a labored quality to themselves, but he didn’t seem to pay any attention to that.

-Haleth.- he choked out after a long while, pale as ash in the face. – I...Should we name him?-

-Halpîn. He is Halpîn. A little warrior.- Haleth squeezed Moryo’s elbow. – Give him another name if you wish, but I...I would never have let our child die nameless.-

He looked at her then, silver eyes bloodshot, wide, glowing with an unearthly light. – That’s a good name.- he managed, voice shaky. – I think… Something with light. He is so bright, always was.-

-He is.- Haleth agreed, trying not to start weeping again.

-Calendo.- Caranthir decided after a moment, stumbling over the syllables. – Light-heart. Light-spirit. I am not going to name him a finwë. Calendo, he is Halpîn Calendo of Thargelion.- he paused, pressing another soft kiss to the head of his son, and caught Haleth’s hand, squeezing it softly, inhaling shakily.

– Hear me Eru, hear me Powers. – he began, with the air of a ritual, voice breaking halfway through. – Here I bring before you my firstborn son.- he closed his eyes, swallowing harshly. - I name him Calendo, for he is the light of my life.- he looked at Haleth, and she took a deep breath.

-I name him Halpîn, for he is a warrior.- she copied him, willing her voice not to waver.

Caranthir’s shoulders hitched with a sob, and nothing came when he opened his mouth, the rest of the ancient blessing to heavy to bear. He closed his mouth again, looking helplessly at the boy in his arms, that had opened his eyes a bit, the watery blue-gray of them unfocused, but valiantly staring at everything to the sprinting staccato of his breaths and heartbeat.

– I...Please, please, if anyone of you cares even a bit about us Children, do not take him away. Please. My Doom is mine to carry, so do not punish him for my deeds. Do not. Please.- Moryo begged instead, a desperate, pleading whisper as he cradled Calendo to his chest. – Please.-

Nothing happened, because nothing could happen, and the deafening silence punctuated with the rapid flutters of grunt-and-whistle rung in Haleth’s ears.

The Valar didn’t give a shit about the little tragedies of the world, and she knew that since the day she was born, but it still disappointed her, a small sting in an already open wound.

Caranthir just sobbed, a heart-wrenching sound, holding their son, their too-small, too-young, dying son, like a fragile figurine in the crook of his elbow as he leaned down against her to hide his face in her hair, letting her wrap an arm around their baby so both of them could hold him.

Haleth let herself weep, cradling the soft, delicate head of her baby in one hand where it rested on her husband’s elbow, committing to memory the way he leaned into the warmth of her skin, the hairy fuzz on his mostly-pointed, paper-thin ears, the tiny fingers that had found Moryo’s silk tunic and caught onto it with determination.

She was so glad he was not in pain anymore, that Caranthir had shielded him from it. She couldn’t have lived with herself if all her baby had known in life was pain.

~~~~

14^th December 377 F.A., catacombs inside Mount Reír.

Caranthir had never wished to be burned in the case he died. He did not want to go as his father did, in a fiery blaze.

He had instead asked the Khazâd about their burial practices.

Mount Reír was made of hard, dark stone, but years of work by skilled craftsmen saw catacombs dug into the mountain, for those that, like him, didn’t want to go up in flames.

Caranthir had dug a parcel for himself on his own, three steps long, one step deep, one tall, like a shelf inside the deepest cavern, safe in the embrace of the mountain. Just in case, to be prepared, in the third year after the completion of the Fortress of Reír.

Now he was only numb as he gently placed the body of his son inside the tomb he had prepared for himself, wrapped securely in the blanket he had woven for him.

Caranthir was so, so cold since the little blaze had dimmed, sputtered, and gone out. Cold and numb, hands shaking constantly.

The ultimate breaking of that fragile little thing had thrown him into a seizure.

He was… It was good that Calendo had passed safely held in the arms of his mother. It was good, for he had fallen as he stood the second it happened, and had he been holding him...It was good it had been Haleth.

At least he had managed to hold him before, to give him a name. At least he had managed to keep him from feeling the splintering, burning pain of his lungs collapsing, no matter that he could still feel it in his own, a phantom pain that didn’t want to leave. He would sooner cut his tongue out than tell Haleth what he had felt while holding it at bay from their son.

She felt awful as it was. He had never seen her cry so bad as those past two days. He should be better, comfort her more but...

But Caranthir was just. Numb. Empty. The world was flying past his ears and he didn’t even notice.

He adjusted the corner of the blanket that had slipped free, a cruel mockery of tucking his child in for sleep.

This deep into the mountain the air was less cold than in the open where snow lay three feet deep, but still held a bite to itself. It was dark outside, the sun having already set, and his hands trembled slightly when he took of his signet to gently place it on the chest of the boy, the gold and ruby glittering in the light of the lamp they had brought to light their way.

He stepped back from the shelf, his son taking up barely a corner of the whole space.

Haleth leaned against him, breath misting the air, and she clicked the locks of her vambraces open, taking them off, leaving them lying on both sides of their child.

They were as long as he was.

Caranthir looked away.

- I wished to pass them on.- she whispered, a pointless explanation. He knew. How could he not? He gave his son his signet. He wanted to say that he understood.

-Do we...have anything else to give him?- he asked instead, putting an arm around her shoulders. She looked more frail without her vambraces, as frail as he had ever seen her be.

-I don’t. You?-

He inhaled slowly, thinking, and finally reached into the lantern, drawing out one of the three stones that powered it, soft white light spilling from between his fingers. He gently placed it above Calendo’s head, and then stepped back, drawing Haleth into a hug again.

They stood like that for a long moment, completely silent, and Caranthir could just feel cold and numb. Suddenly Haleth turned around, swallowing harshly, wiping away at her eyes. – Let’s go, love. There is nothing more for us to do here.-

He shook his head mutely, letting her go to reach to the far end of the much too big grave, grasping at the stone handle hidden there. He tugged at it, drawing it to himself with all of his strength, the mechanism letting the covering-stone roll easily in it’s groove, and with one last, final gritting of stone-on-stone the grave closed.

-Haleth?- he whispered quietly, drawing a chisel and hammer from the depths of his cloak. – Cirth or Tengwar.-

-Cirth. So that I can read it too.- she decided after a moment, the light around them dimmer for the one stone less. A fitting thing, Caranthir thought, getting to work. There was one light less between them, after all.

~~~~

16^th December, 377 F.A., Fortress of Mount Reír.

Caranthir was roused from the blankness of his thoughts by somebody calling his name, and found himself sitting at his loom, fingers resting still and unmoving on the threads.

-Yes?- he blinked, trying to make sense of reality.

-My lord, your youngest brothers have arrived.- his chamberlain repeated softly, taking the hand he had on his shoulder away. – They wish to see you immediately.-

-What new disaster happened.- Caranthir whispered out, standing up. -Where are they?-

-Behind the door, my lord.-

-Let them in and return to your duties.- he nodded to him, and the servant with one last look of worry did as he was bid.

The Ambarussa flitted quickly into the room, moving with the eerie synchronization only they could achieve. -Moryo! You are alive!- Telvo sighed out when they reached him.

-And standing! Oh, that is good.- Pityo finished, looking him over.

-You gave us all quite the scare, -

-It felt like you were dying,-

-And we were the closest so we came first,-

-But Neylo and Káno are riding here too,-

-And Curvo and Tyleko and Tylepë.-

Caranthir closed his eyes, reaching out to clasp hands with his brothers. They were both a hand-span taller than him, for he was forever the shortest, and the time in Ossiriand made them both tan and wiry. Their twinned spirit reached out for his and recoiled back, both of them crying out with anguish at the same time. -Moryo!-

-I know.- he could only whisper, aware that his spirit was in a sorry state.

-What...happened?- Telvo asked and seemingly with the same breath Pityo picked up: - Can we hug you?-

-I...Yes, please.- Caranthir exhaled, feeling his legs start to shake. They were both so very warm, and bright, and blessedly alive.

They pressed up against him from both sides, clothes wet from the road, both of them furnace-hot and smelling of horse, and he buried his face in Pityo’s arm.

-Moryo, what happened?- Telvo asked again, anguished, gripping their brother-bond with all of his strength.

He opened his mouth, and closed it again. -I...-

They were so warm, so fiery and he was just...cold and numb.

The thin, crystal thing around his thoughts shattered into a million pieces, and the grief hit him like an avalanche, tearing his insides apart, burrowing deep into his bones, raking it’s claws through his heart like a rabid wolverine.

He inhaled once, twice, breath hiccuping, and broke down crying, desperate sobs shaking his shoulders. – He is dead, he is gone. – he choked out, hiding himself in Pityo’s shoulder, twisting his fingers into his furry cloak. – He is gone.-

His brothers held him tighter, both in body and in spirit. – Who, Moryo?- Telvo whispered, like he was scared of the answer.

He could only sob, air getting stuck in his throat, not wanting to go down, the phantom burn of Calendo’s lungs collapsing slowly making him shake all over. He tried to take in a deeper breath, wheezing awfully, tried to match his inhales to those of his brothers, but he couldn’t, feeling a thousand shards of glass in his chest.

Shaking his head he tried again, and again, until he could blink the spots back from his vision and hear himself wheeze in raspy breaths, until the primal panic of not being able to breathe didn’t subside into the raking phantom pain of feeling his son slowly die, until he could match his inhales to those of Pityo and draw in the slightly cold air of his craft-chamber.

-Moryo, shhh, Moryo you need to breathe, come on brother, in-and-out-in-and-out.- Telvo was speaking into his ear, him and Pityo holding him upright. – Yeah, like that, match Pityo, good. Now come on, let’s sit down.-

They guided him to the floor and sat there with him, holding him securely, letting him lean into their spirit and warm his own up.

-It...- he managed to choke out after his tears ran out and he stopped struggling to breathe, exhausted to the bone and wrung out. – Oh, Ambarussa, I get it now. I get it. -

-Get what, brother?- they asked as one, Telvo running his fingers through his hair gently, Pityo holding his hands.

-Why Ammë didn’t want to let you go.- he whispered, feeling himself shake. – I...-

-Moryo, what happened?- Pityo cut him off, squeezing his fingers, ripples of worry reverberating between them. -What...Who died?-

He closed his eyes, leaning back against Telvo, tired enough the grief couldn’t do anything more but pool around his heart like a frigid lake. -My son.-

-You...- Telvo startled, inhaling sharply. -When? Wait, no, how, what, Moryo?-

-You felt it when.- Caranthir swallowed, mouth dry. – He...He was born too early.-

-Oh.- both of them stilled, their arms tightening around him.

-He couldn’t breathe.- he swallowed again, the urge to have it out too strong for him. – Oh, Eru, he was so tiny he couldn’t even cry, and he...he was in so much pain. I cut him off from the pain, but I could feel it, oh, Ambarussa, he was so tiny.- he hid his mouth behind his hand, biting his fingers at the memory. – And he is gone.-

- Did you give him a name?- Pityo asked shakily, shuffling even closer to him.

-Halpîn Calendo.- Caranthir made himself say, throat tight. – He was smaller than you were when you were born. So tiny.-

-And...your spouse?- Telvo whispered after a second of hesitation, tracing the marriage braid in his hair.

-Haleth is hale, bless whoever is still watching over us.- he replied. – Oh, Eru, I have not told you I got married, have I?- he grimaced faintly, leaning into the warmth of Telvo’s fingers on his cheek. – I’m sorry.-

-But...how did the baby came early if...- Pityo swallowed, squeezing his fingers harder.

-Haleth is an Edain.- Caranthir shook his head. – They carry shorter. It...it was all my fault.-

-You...-Telvo made a complicated sound, before falling silent again. – I want to meet our sister in law.-

-She is packing to go back to the village.- he mumbled, half-asleep from the warmth of his brothers, before the sudden thought didn’t hit him. -Oh, Eru, Haldan!- he tried to lurch forward, but Ambarussa didn’t even need to strain to keep him sitting.

Caranthir closed his eyes, swallowing harshly. Haldan would be heartbroken. He remembered well how he had felt when Neylo had been gone, and…

Haldan didn’t deserve it. None of them did, but Haldan was the one child he still had, and he needed to...

-Moryo.- Telvo tugged at his ear, voice worried. – You need to inform us of things as they happen, all right? Who the fuck is Haldan, how scared should I be for my sister-in-law, and, well, honestly? I will leave the rest for Neylo to sort out when he arrives. Come on, let’s meet your wife and pack you to bed, you are exhausted, and like, it’s bad.-

Caranthir didn’t even have the energy to protest anymore.

~~~~

20^th December 377 F.A., Thargelion.

Moryo’s brothers were a force of nature.

She was glad that they had somewhat sensed something bad happening and promptly piled up on Caranthir. He had suffered atrociously Halpîn’s death, and she had been scared for a good moment that he would die too. It was good to see him getting better thanks to, what she suspected, was his brothers doing the same to him that he had done for Halpîn, and feeding him energy.

There was enough of them for her to also get an...emotional support elf, she supposed. The blonde hunter, Tyleko, was her favorite. Very princely when he wanted to be, very simple and straight-forward when he felt it was better. He did not fear talking to her of what happened, even if he did at times twist his words in metaphors, she wasn’t sure for whose benefit.

The fussing was seemingly a family trait. She smiled in faint amusement. She didn’t need to be fussed about to this degree, but it calmed her down. She would recover. She always did.

There were plenty of people in her House that had suffered the same fate, she was hardly alone.

All in all, Haldan had taken the news well. He had ran out of the house and returned only after a few hours, and he crawled at night into her bed to make sure she was all right and not dying, but he wasn’t…

He wasn’t as broken as Moryo was.

Iron Hells, she wasn’t as broken as Moryo was. It hurt, oh, how it hurt, but with every day it was slightly easier to breathe through the grief and keep carrying on, even if she knew deep in her bones that thinking too hard about her son would make her cry even when she would be old and wrinkly.

But Moryo had...He had seen the little light of their baby since the very beginning, and to say he was lost now was to say nothing.

That was something only time could heal, and Haleth was grateful for the invasion of elves into her house, if only because she could pass Moryo to one of them and feel assured he would be all right, he would not break and start seizing as he had when…

That had been possibly the worst moment of her life. At least at the Stockade she could do something. There she was helpless.

There was something empty in her soul begging to be filled back again, and she acknowledged it with little fuss.

She wanted to try again. Not now, maybe in a few years, but she wanted a child. There was a baby-sized hole in her heart and she needed it filled.

Haldan was...he was like her son, but he wasn’t, and dammit, she wanted to try again.

But Moryo would need time. That she could give him, at least for now.

Haleth exhaled shakily, watching with damp eyes as her husband sat on the floor hugging Haldan tightly as they played some sort of strategy game against his eldest brother.

She would give herself that time too.

They both could use it.

Chapter End Notes

So. I think "I hope you enjoyed" is a bit of a misnomer here. I hope it made you feel something. I would really appreciate any comments, do not be afraid to scream and rage at me, I feed on your pain.

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