The Court of Ardor by AliceNWonder000137  

The Birth of Darkness

Ardana gives birth to the catalyst that will destroy the sun and moon.

9)  The Birth of Darkness - Year of the Sun 61 Hrívë (Winter)

Yavëkamba

Yavëkamba stood motionless and without expression amid Ardana’s grunts and groans.  The healer watched a boiling cauldron filled with herbs that a pleasant aroma wafted from.  She held out the palm of her hand and a breeze emanated from it, pushing the mist towards the Astrologer.  “Keep breathing, Ardana,” she said.  “The birth of Morgoth’s child will come soon.  Inhale the scent of these herbs.  It will relax you.”  Her blue and silver robes felt especially heavy today.  Examining her patient, her eyes were drawn to a streak of kinky silver hair amid Ardana’s long, straight black mane.  She noticed it immediately after the Dark Lord impregnated her but seeing it up close was startling.  She had never seen an elf have such color.  Was it the trauma of her union with the Dark Lord?

Ardana cried out again and grasped Yavëkamba’s hand, squeezing hard enough to make the healer wince. “Make it happen!” the Astrologer said between gritted teeth.  “I cannot bear this much longer!”  Ardana’s face glistened with sweat and her enlarged belly pulsed as if some monster was trying to get out.  Only a sheet lay over her body and that too, was soaked.

Yavëkamba forced herself to be calm.  She placed her other hand on Ardana’s to comfort their leader.  “Breathe.  Breathe. Inhale the fumes.”  Though her voice was calm and cool, her mind and heart spun nearly out of control.  Surely this mad plan of hers would fail, and she would be found out.  Ardana was among the most perceptive of the Eldar.  She imagined the astrologer peering into her soul and she gulped hard to clear her mind.  She glanced around to see if the child’s father was anywhere to be found.  Not seeing him she surmised that he was busy planning his retribution on the elves.  Retribution, revenge, rage.  That was all the Dark Lord was consumed with now.  The defeat at the Dagor Aglareb sat heavily upon him.  He had been cheated.  He should have won.  What happened to the promises of eternal glory and bliss that he said would come to pass?  How could she have been so foolish as to believe the empty words?  Like her love, she would play her part to end the madness, only from the inside.

Her mind wandered to the Pools of Estë, called Lórellin in Quenya, which meant dream pool. She could see the white and silver marble structures of her patron’s home, covered in flowering vines.  She could smell the scent of flowers and the dark yew trees that surrounded the pools.  The myriad colors were nearly overwhelming.  From the shore of the lake, she would be able to see the island where Estë slept during the day and the silvery light of Telperion would reflect off of the calm waters at night.  For a moment, she imagined touching one of the green and silver leaves of the great tree and bathing in one of the many pools of water that formed at the its roots. She could taste the clear fresh water upon her tongue.  Her breathing caught in her throat, and she sniffed hard and bit her lip to stifle a tear.

“Breath Ardana, breath,” Yavëkamba repeated in a calm, cool voice.  “The child is coming.”  She applied a salve to Ardana’s enlarged belly and uttered a soft incantation.

Someone tugged at her should from behind.  She looked back to see Morthaur, his face impatient with pursed lips and furrowed brow. “How much longer?” he asked.  “This is taking far too long.  Fëatur is waiting to consecrate the infant into darkness and dedicate its life to the Dark Lord.”

“It will take as long as it will take,” Yavëkamba replied with an edge and a snort of breath from her nostrils.  She couldn’t stand the man.  “We are talking about the Dark Lord’s child.  I have very little experience in birthing a Vala so please stand back and be patient.”  She remained cordial if not particularly polite.

Morthaur huffed and took a step back.  “You would do well to keep me appraised,” he said with a hint of threat.  Instead of his coveralls he wore a formal black robe with a hood that was trimmed in crimson.  Around his neck was a black brooch shaped like an octagon.  The number eight had become almost sacred among this group.

Besides Morthaur stood another man, also cloaked in a black hooded robe.  Yavëkamba could only see the tip of his nose poking out of the shadow of his hood and the twinkle of his silver eyes.  The man raised his hands up above his head and began chanting.  The words were almost nonsensical, but the healer could discern Dark Lord and prophecy.  This was Morthrog, the seer of Morgoth.

Ardana cried out again and this time her nails drew Yavëkamba’s blood on her arm.  The Healer winced again and then leaned down towards Ardana’s face.  “The time is here.  Push. Push.  It will over soon.  You will have the honor of bearing the child of the King of the Earth.”  Yavëkamba tightened her stomach and took slow, deep breaths.  It was all she could do to keep from retching.

Ardana’s belly continued to pulse, and a green glow began to emanate from under her skin.  The Astrologer let out an inhuman howl that curdled the Healer’s blood.  It soon became a wail of pain and terror as Morthrog’s eyes glazed over and his chanting grew in volume and intensity.

“I can see it.  I can see the head,” Yavëkamba called out as she pulled her arm from Ardana’s grip and reached for the infant.  “More!  Push more!” Ardana’s wail became an unholy, guttural shriek.

Morthrog’s chants almost drowned out the Ardana’s cries and he reached a frenzied, fevered pitch.  “Night and Day!” he shouted out.  “Girl and boy!  Two children and a shadowed fate!  He shall die, short life to enjoy!  She will her mother slay ‘ere too late!  ‘Fore night falls again!”  Then, he collapsed to the ground.

“It’s here!” Yavëkamba shouted over the din.  “He’s here!” With another grunt from Ardana, a child emerged.  Yavëkamba held him up and he cried his first breath, a powerful wail of the son of a Vala. She turned and held the child out to Morthaur who took him and swaddled him in a warm cloth.  Ardana went silent and fell limp, her breath coming in rasps. “Wait, wait!” the healer called out in surprise.  This would change things.  “There is another child!  Ardana, I need you once more!  Courage now! Push!”  Her mind raced as to how she would fix this now.  She had only prepared to take one child.  Then, a desperate idea took hold.

Tears, snot and sweat rolled down Ardana’s face as she howled once more.  Another head emerged and Yavëkamba gently guided it out.  She had to think quickly.  There was no room for error.  “It’s a girl,” she said.  “No wait…she doesn’t breathe.”  The Healer laid the child on a nearby table and uttered an incantation.  She rubbed a salve on the face of the infant but then shook her head.  “She’s blue. There is no life in this one.  I am sorry.  She was dead before birth.”  She wrapped the girl in a blanket and cradled the body for a moment.  Ardana lay senseless on now soaked and bloody sheets and Yavëkamba covered her lower body.

She looked to Morthaur. “Have the handmaidens attend to Lady Ardana and please take the living boy to the Dark Lord.  A father should see his son.”

Morthaur scoffed and rolled his eyes.  “Very well. Not that the son will live very long. He has a sole purpose for his life and that is to bring darkness.”

“Fine,” she said plainly, straining to remain civil.  “I will take his daughter to Fëatur to dispose of the remains.  The child of a Vala should at least be honored.”

Morthaur chuckled darkly. “You don’t get it, do you? This…this flesh is just a means to an end.  These aren’t children, they are vessels of power.  I only care about their blood and their life essence.  The fact that one is dead concerns me not.”  He turned and walked out without another word.

Yavëkamba curled her lip. She had come to despise the man now known as The Lord of the group.  Life was meaningless to him, and everything was just a means to an end.  She rocked the lifeless baby for a moment and then walked swiftly to the other end of Ardana’s bedchamber where Fëatur was waiting.  They nodded in unison and then went to a nearby room.  Fëatur scanned around to make sure no one was near.

A faint smile broke across the Healer’s lips.  “You look good as a woman.  The disguise worked well,” she said as she leaned over to kiss Fëatur.  Then, she bit her lip and became worried again. “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have done that.  I just hate living like this, worrying every moment that I could be found out.  I would not…be treated well.”

“I’m so afraid for you, Yavë.  But I’m so proud.  I came back to undo the damage that I caused.”  He waved his hand in the air and there was a shimmering light for a moment before fading.  “There, it will appear as if this room is empty.  No one will notice us.”

Yavëkamba scanned around again, making sure that they were truly alone.  She wanted to believe him, but she was still afraid.  She brought the baby out from under her robe and removed the blanket from around the infant’s face.  She passed her hand over the girl’s forehead and the infant took a breath.  “Shhhh shhh, little one.  Here is an herb to keep you quiet,” she said as she placed some powder in the girl’s mouth. “You have a long journey ahead of you. I am sorry that I will not be able to see you grow, but I know that you will become a strong woman and that you will have a great father,” she added, looking Fëatur in the eyes.

His mouth fell open. Then, he took a deep breath and accepted the baby.  “I…I don’t know what to do.  I’ve never…”

She gave him another kiss and said, “I know you will figure it out.  I know you.  Here, take this.  It’s enough to feed you both for two weeks, maybe more if you ration.  There is also medication for an infant.  Go, find the Three of Ty-Ar-Rana.  I’ve already sent them a secret message so they will know to expect you.  Still, it will take some convincing for them to trust you.  You know how.  Now go. Leave this cursed land and go south. I will hold the two of you in my heart.”

Fëatur choked for a moment and his eyes glistened.  He took the bag of supplies and nodded.  “Thank you. I will come back for you, and we will escape this.  Be safe. I could not live with myself if anything happened to you.  It would be the worst of my sins.”

He turned to go but looked back one last time at her.  Their eyes met for a moment and then he was gone.

Chapter End Notes

In the RPG module, the boy is taken away and the girl remains, but I decided to change that.  Also, the birth does not occur for several more centuries, but I felt the story would benefit with that changed as well and I want to showcase the happenings in Beleriand more too.