Yet Were Its Making Good, For This by LadySternchen  

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Part Two- Made New

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The gardens of Lórien were always beautiful, no matter the weather, but this day they seemed to Mablung like the most beautiful place in all of Arda that ever was or ever would be. The leaves of the trees were rustling in a slight breeze, Melian’s birds were chirping and insects were humming, the little brook that ran close by murmured like Esgalduin had done in ancient times and the sweet smell of warm grass filled their secluded clearing. 

Nothing of this could compete with the happiness within Mablung, however, for not even the most glorious day in the world’s fairest place could even come close to his own elation. It still felt like a scene from someone else’s life, or else a fair dream he might once have dreamt. As it was, Mablung had pinched himself not only once, so as to ensure that he was indeed awake, and judging by the pain on his thighs, he was. It was time, therefore, to tentatively start to believe it.

It had been a little over two years since his life had changed forever, two years since he had left the shores of the sea, two years since he had last talked to his kin. He missed them, yes, and looked forward to seeing them again when the time was ripe, but there was no rush. They had time, after all, all the time in the world- and that in itself seemed the most wonderful thing.

Almost as wonderful as the new era of his life that had just begun- an era he had never -ever- anticipated.

He smiled as the little bundle in his arms stirred, one minuscule quavering foot extending from its soft blanket as the tiny baby within stretched. Mablung quickly adjusted the blanket so that their newborn was again well covered, then looked over to his husband, who lay with his body draped protectively around Melian’s still form. His husband… the term still sounded sweet in his ears, and probably would ever do so. As it was, they smiled tenderly at each other before Elwë nodded in his daughter’s direction and mouthed:
“Is she waking up?”

Mablung moved his head from side to side in a way that meant to say: “Not sure. Maybe.”

Thônwen, who sat close by and cradled the other twin, lifted his blanket a little, too, but quickly shook her head.

“Still sleeping, and still blue.” she stated in a low voice.

Mablung and Elwë exchanged a quick look and turned away again to prevent themselves from bursting out laughing. Maybe that whole affair was in truth not as funny as it seemed to them now, but filled to the brim with the joy of welcoming brand-new babies into their family, they both found Lord Irmo’s little jest hilarious.

Of all the adventures that Mablung had undertaken in his life, that of bringing those two children into the world had by far been the most nerve-wracking and marvellous, even if his part in it had been to mostly watch, and be a shoulder to lean on whenever Elwë or Melian had needed it. And they had needed it, desperately needed it, and oh, was Mablung glad that he had been able to be there for them, whenever their doubts and fears had overwhelmed them.

That they both wanted to be parents again so desperately, which of course was no surprise for Mablung, in fact, he had suspected the subject might come up before long even before they had first raised it. He had spent enough time with Melian since the changing of the world to know how deeply her heart ached whenever she happened to see a mother with her young, regardless of species; and that Elwë wanted nothing more than to be a father was no news, either.

No, the only problem had indeed been the question of whether or not they dared. After all, the begetting of Lúthien had already been a breach of each and every rule, and trying the seemingly impossible again here in Aman after Elwë’s re-embodiment was bold indeed. In the end, they had taken the matter to the Máhanaxar -with Melian continuously grumbling about how it was none of her kin’s business what she did or did not do with her husband- and been granted leave right away.

Mablung strongly suspected that the Valar had been so very obliging in that matter because they knew all too well what unbearable pain they had caused by changing the rules for Lúthien, and letting her take the Gift of Men. That pain they could not assuage, but they could at least grant Melian and Elwë the chance to give new meaning to parenthood, to fill that role with something other than their ever-present grief.

But while it had not been the greatest surprise to Mablung that Elwë and Melian wanted to try for another child, it had come as a huge surprise that they had both been adamant that Mablung was to be a part of it if he wanted. A year had passed since that evening and he still felt just as deeply honoured and humbled and grateful as he had done then. True, be part of this most sacred act did not make the twins his own- despite somehow, it did. Elwë had probably best put it when he had told Mablung that this was a simple matter of co-parenting- these were his children, Mablung was his husband, Melian was fine with it, no more discussion needed.

Mablung smiled to himself. He had always loved this special kind of pragmatism in Elwë.

And so he had watched Melian’s belly grow, watched Elwë stroke his babes through her skin and muscle, listened to him sing softly to them, which Mablung had found to be adorable. Being a father had probably always been the most natural thing for Elwë and ever since he was allowed to be that again, a huge change had come over him, something Mablung was incredibly grateful for. But apart from the effect it had on Elwë, Melian’s pregnancy had also sealed the bond between her and Mablung once and for all. It was easy, really. Ridiculously easy, given that a relationship such as theirs was virtually unheard of. But then, that was an occupational hazard of being around Melian- she had always done things her way, not caring at all about customs or other people’s opinions. But she did the things her way so gently and with such kindness that it was neigh on impossible to not love her. So it had been when she had been Doriath’s fabled Queen, so it was now.

A tender warmth grew in Mablung’s chest as he now surveyed Melian, who slept soundly in Elwë’s arms. He loved her deeply in so many ways- with none of them being even remotely romantic, which was precisely the way they both wanted it. She regarded him as something close to a sibling, Mablung knew, and he was very much fine with that, so there really was nothing complicated to living this life. Not now, anyway, and whatever came in the future they would figure out then.

He felt the presence of Elmo and Beleg before they made themselves known, and he turned to greet the newcomers, with Elwë and Thônwen doing the same. 
Unlike with her pregnancy with Lúthien when she had insisted on being alone with her husband, Melian had wanted her sister-in-law with her this time around, and so Elmo and Thônwen had spent the past months with them in Lórien. Only when both Melian and Thônwen had been sure that the birth of the twins was imminent had Elmo left them again, to bring tidings to that inner circle of people who knew of Elwë’s return. Elmo had taken on that task gladly, and Mablung was sure that it really filled him with glee to make already spectacular news even more dramatic, just for the joy leaving his ‘victims’ utterly flummoxed.

Thônwen, Elwë and Mablung meanwhile had stayed with Melian to help her in any way they could, but that had proven quite unnecessary. Whether it had been coincidence that her first labour had been so difficult for her, or the fact that Melian had had even less of an idea of what to expect from birth than any other new mother had the first time around, her second delivery was nothing like it. She mastered everything beautifully, and though there was no such thing as the famous blossoming of Niphredil at Lúthien’s birth, the moment still had a magic that Mablung would never forget.

Only when their son had almost been born had Mablung realised that they were not alone in their secluded clearing, but that Lord Irmo and Lady Estë stood silently by the edge of the trees, watching.
If one was being nice, one could say that they had just wanted to be there for Melian’s sake, who was so very beloved by both of them. Indeed, that was certainly true for Estë, and while Irmo, too, might have been there to support Melian and watch this particular miracle unfold within his realm, Mablung felt sure that he had also come to savour the prank he had decided to play on them.

Which, finally, brought Mablung’s meandering thoughts back full circle, to the peculiar appearance of their new babes.

As it had been night when the twins had been born, they had not at once realised that something was off with their son, the firstborn twin, but even the darkness could not hide the fact that their second twin had antlers. Melian had taken one look at her newborn babes and rounded on Irmo with a sound that would have done every angry cat proud, long before it had even dawned on Mablung that the Lord of Lórien had indeed tempered with the children.

He had never worked out whether Irmo had a certain amount of control over reproduction within Lórien in general or over Melian in particular, only that somehow, he had made sure that those children would never pass as normal elves. Irmo had not even tried to deny that he had had his hand in the twins unusual appearances but had laughed instead and claimed that those two would have been indistinguishable from their parents otherwise.

And while Irmo was not strictly speaking wrong with that claim, it had still not gone down well with Melian. Not even a little bit.

Dishevelled and bleeding from just having given birth she had raged at Irmo, who after a while had had the grace to appear somewhat abashed, especially as both Thônwen and Estë herself had been with Melian on the matter. Both had scolded Irmo as well, though they had had to work hard to hide their grins all the same, just as Elwë and Mablung had. Blue and antlered or not, the babies were adorable, and Melian’s rage quite clearly not about their appearance at all. Mablung had thought at first that this was about Irmo undermining her decision to live as an elf while Arda lasted, but soon it had dawned on him that there had to be more behind it, for not even at the downing of Númenor had he seen her so beside beside herself with rage.

Only when Melian had finally stumbled with exhaustion had Elwë handed their little daughter to Mablung and walked over to his wife to wrap his arms tightly around her, and not a moment too soon. As soon as she was securely held, Melian’s knees gave way, and all their amusement turned to pity. Estë herself took it upon herself to gently wash her Maia, while Irmo had eased her to sleep with apologies and words of love, and then Elwë had hoisted her up once more and carried her to their camp. He had not let go of her for a moment ever since.

Oh, it was strange to see Melian so weak, to see the one who had held Sauron and Ungoliant at bay single-handedly, who had always known what to do, lie shivering in her husband’s arms like a frightened girl. But she slept now, at least, and surely when she woke, the world would look friendlier to her.

Eager to protect her sleep therefore, Mablung now watched Elmo and Beleg apprehensively, who walked over to them and put the large package they had been carrying between themselves down on the grass. While Elmo greeted all of them by walking silently around them, kissing his wife and brother on the head before kneeling down next to Mablung to hug him, Beleg just let himself collapse on Mablung’s other side, staring in disbelief at Elwë.

“I did not believe Elmo, I really didn’t. I thought he was playing some trick on me. Honestly, will you never stop leaving us all baffled? Ever? Two years we hear nothing of you, or Melian, or Mablung, and then you send Elmo to find me with such news?”

Elwë grinned rather guiltily, and Mablung chuckled quietly, too. He knew Beleg well enough to see how moved he truly was, both by the news of the babies’ existence and the fact that he, though not strictly speaking a member of the family, was granted to be here now anyway. Mablung reached out and softly patted Beleg’s back- he had dearly missed his best friend as well.

“Olwë and Círdan are beside themselves and really wished they could have come here with us, but they cannot get away from the festival without telling everybody why.” Elmo told his brother quietly.

Of course, Mablung thought. It was the time of the great annual feast of Alqualondë, celebrating Ossë and Unien first teaching the Falmari the art of shipbuilding, and naturally neither Olwë nor Círdan could excuse themselves from that easily. He smiled as he thought about how the ships must look now, adorned with multi-coloured ribbons and little flags, sailing out of the harbour at nightfall, with many torches glowing in the gathering darkness. It was always a sight to behold.

“Olwë sends you this in the meantime though,” Elmo went on, still addressing Elwë “… and bade me tell you that each and every child of the royal house of Alqualondë has slept in there, so you might find it fitting for yours.”

With that, Elmo pulled the fabric that had covered the parcel off and revealed what appeared to be a miniature swan-ship, though Mablung instantly recognised it to be a cradle, meant to be hung from the ceiling or a tree.

“This is… I do not know what to say. It is beautiful…” Elwë managed to mutter, blinking the tears away that threatened to spill from his eyes.

Elmo just laughed and ruffled through his brother’s unusually untidy hair.

“Now that we settled that, will you get up and introduce us properly to your new babies?”

“Aye, I will introduce you, if you will content yourself to let me do that while lying down, or else you will have to wait until Melian is awake. I do not want to wake her, which I would certainly do were I to move now.”

Elmo frowned, apparently only now taking a proper look at his sister-in-law.

“Is Melian alright? She looks…”

“…terrible.” Thônwen finished Elmo’s sentence for him. “Quite. Don’t you lot dare to wake her for anything other than a hungry baby, she needs rest. That stupid joke of Irmo’s really upset her.”

“What joke?” Beleg and Elmo asked in unison, and so they explained about the Vala’s tempering with the twins appearance.

“It is not truly Irmo who so upset her.” Elwë said at last, his arms still firmly around his wife “I mean, it’s not like… Lúthien looked like a normal elf. Elves do not usually glitter like the wings of butterflies, nor can they use their hair as a cloak of invisibility, so I am not even sure Irmo did all that much aside from maybe enhancing a strangeness that would have been there anyway. No, Lord Irmo’s jest was really only an outlet for all the grief and pain she has carried with her all those long years. She is terrified to love a mother’s love again, to… to be again so vulnerable. She is scared that something might happen to the twins as well, and… probably this also feels like a betrayal to Lúthien’s memory to her, like we were replacing her somehow. Melian coped so well for so long, while I went to pieces and robbed her of the only possible source of comfort. But I will not let her down like that ever again.”

A sorrowful silence followed his words, until Thônwen finally broke it, saying:
“And none of us would have expected anything less of you, brother. But now stop keeping Beleg and my poor husband on tenterhooks and let us show them the twins.”

Elwë smiled gratefully, then looked over to Mablung and caught his eye in an unspoken agreement, and so Mablung carefully placed their daughter into Beleg’s arms. Beleg looked very surprised to be actually handed the tiny baby, and even more so when he realised that she was looking back at him with bright grey eyes, and be it a little puzzled.

“Uh, it has been a while since I held an elfling so young. But oh, look at you.” he cooed “So many people here to meet you on the very day of your birth, huh? Oh, but aren’t you just as stunningly beautiful as your sister?” Beleg looked up at Elwë for a moment, adding: “You do know how to make them, don’t you?”
Everyone chuckled at that remark, and Elmo reached out to tenderly stroke his little niece’s black hair, careful not to touch the two horns that grew from her scalp above her still folded ears.

“Did those antlers not hurt Melian?” he asked, but Elwë shook his head.

“No. She was the second-born, and also came out bottom first and still in caul. But I doubt she would have done anything to Melian even had she been head down. The horns are quite soft, and bending them does not seem to bother her at all.”

“So, that was ladies first.” remarked Thônwen, who carefully rose and placed the second baby in Elmo’s arms “Now meet her brother, too.”

“Well met, little one.” Elmo said huskily, gently kissing the baby’s silvery head. “You look just like your Ada. Just as much as your little sister looks like your Nana. I must say, I cannot argue with Irmo’s reasoning.”

“He looks like you did under the starlight of Cuiviénen, when we had no true colours.” Beleg told Elwë “And I tell you, you do just as well with the boys as with the girls. They are both gorgeous.”

“Are you just now paying me a compliment, Beleg, or making fun of me? Because while I would be glad to claim responsibility for how our children turned out all for myself, Melian did play a rather large part in it, you know.”

“I was paying your children a compliment, Elwë. And teasing you at the same time. Just a little bit.”

Everyone chuckled, which finally seemed to rouse Melian, who stirred feebly for the first time since Irmo had eased her to sleep.

“Elu?”

Mablung smiled. She was the only one who had kept with the Sindarin form of Elwë’s name, which Mablung found well-fitting. The use of this name belonged to her, and her alone.

“I am here, beloved. ’tis alright. I have got you. You have been so brave, and so strong and I am so immeasurably proud of you.”

“The babies?”

“They are alright, don’t you worry. Elmo and Beleg are holding them right now and they are smitten. As they should be. And before their arrival the little ones were cuddled by Mablung and Thônwen.”

“Why not by you?”

Elwë chuckled at the incredulity in Melian’s voice.

“Because I was busy holding you, my love. But would you like to try and feed them now you are awake? Our girl is awake as well and getting hungry, and doo not think that it will not be long before she will start complaining.”

Melian nodded, so Elwë supported her into a more upright position and took his daughter from Beleg to hand her on to his wife. The moment she was in her mother’s arms, the little girl started nuzzling her breast. Thônwen sighed.

“Galadhon was just like that. He gave me sores all over because he was so eager to get his milk that he would suckle on my skin rather than my nipple. Watch that one, she will be just the same, I tell you.”

“Lúthien was very good in that respect.” Melian muttered wearily and wincing slightly as the little girl at last started drinking. “But she was just as… ouch! enthusiastic. Oh darn, I forgot how much that hurts. I thought it would get easier with every child?”

“New body, I’m afraid.” said Thônwen and Elwë in unison, and this time even Melian smiled a little.

“So how do I feed both of them, seeing that Irmo chose to change colours, or turn them into half-deers rather than giving me an extra set of arms, which would have actually been useful? You know, before I took true body again, I might have changed my appearance myself”

Once again, the clearing rang with their laughter, not least when Elwë reminded her wryly that had she remained unbound to her body, she would most certainly not have been able to bear child again, and thus would not have needed additional limbs.

Mablung meanwhile shifted closer to Melian and took their boy from Elmo as well. He had watched his mother feed two babies for two years straight, so this was at least a little bit of valuable advice he could give.

“You need not necessarily feed them both at once, though it does save time, of course. But given that we have enough hands here, I think it really is worth a try. Is she securely latched? If so, I will hand him to you now, feet back. My mother was always quite comfortable feeding my sisters that way, you only have to watch out so she does not kick her brother in the face. The only thing to mind -at least that is what Naneth always said- was to not swap breasts. She tried once, apparently, and deeply regretted it. I do not know what truly is to that rule, though.”

Thônwen nodded her agreement.

“That is solid advice, at least for a little later. It will not make much difference now. Just do what feels best for you just now.”

Melian still looked somewhat sceptical as she watched Elwë help her put their still sleeping son to her breast as well, and was proven right straight away. Their boy clearly needed far more guidance than his little sister.

“Come on, little one. You must be hungry as well.” Elwë tried to encourage him.

It took them quite a while to get him to wake up properly, and even more time to get him to latch in a way that was comfortable for everyone.

“Great. So we have the next fussy eater. Did you have to present us with just such a perfect copy of yourself, Elwë?”

Elwë huffed as everyone grinned, sticking his tongue out to Thônwen, before changing the subject in a non-too-subtle attempt to retaliate.

“As we talked of Galadhon earlier, how long do you plan to keep him in the dark? He will be mad at us, you know that?”

“Then he should have learned how to keep secrets.” Elmo chuckled. “But I promise I will go get him as soon as everyone is settled into their new roles. Have you names yet, by the way?”

“No. And we are in no hurry, either. I thought, maybe… to honour the Mortals in our family and give them names in the fashion of the Edain, something that honours both Beren and Túrin”

Melian looked up at her husband in surprise, before a smile spread over her face, lifting some of the exhaustion off her features for the first time.

“Oh Elu… I would love that. And Lúthien would have loved it, too, and I am sure Dior will also really appreciate it.”

Beleg turned to Mablung with a look that mirrored his emotions quite clearly, as Mablung had suspected it would. Well though Beleg had settled into life in Valinor, there was no denying the ever-aching wound that was the loss of Túrin within his heart, and Mablung knew very well how much this naming would mean to him therefore. He hugged Beleg tightly, and nodded at Elwë over Beleg’s shoulder.

“Best idea you have had today, my love.”