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

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Fuel to the Fire

This is all tooth-rotting fluff with some worrying and fussing in between, still safe for all to read. Caranthir is very, very, very happy to be a dad. At the end it gets kinda wobbly, since they get More Worried as they go, but noting explicit or triggering I think.

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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.