*Title: Born of Love
*Fandom: JRR Tolkien
*Summary: Learning a little of life and death. It was wrote for a
friend who recently died in childbirth. Perhaps a bit AU since I
toyed with his parents.
He tromped across the flowers in relentless pursuit of the insect. A
squeal pierced the normal sounds of nature as the elfling bounded
down the grassy hill and on his face a smile that could rival a
He looked behind him to ensure he was justly followed by his father
for that was the entire point of the game. The dragonfly a mere
distraction as he lead his father to the peace of the stream.
His father beamed as he chased his son. Indeed, he could have caught
him long ago but his son enjoyed the game so he would indulge him. He
found his feet treading familiar grounds as he looked to the babbling
brook and the grassy banks. He looked above them to see the canopy
that had been long forgotten.
A small grasp has his hand as if to remind him that he stood there.
Finally he looked to the golden haired elfling. "Have the days turned
to years before us?" He peered through the branches as he found
beautiful but familiar sights. Thrust into his face with a squeal was
a white flower and he smiled as bee sailed out slowly. "You should
not interrupt nature." He gently scolded the youth.
A Face was all he could see as he looked along the brook. She had
been there in a joyful pain and with a labor of love. He remembered
her face and entire birth of their son.
He remembered it well:
She had been there in nature's peace to give him back the seed he had
bestowed upon her in but a year's time. Panting breath and a cry once
in a while was her only show of discomfort. He had not left her side
and he kept her hand firmly enclosed in his as he tried to help and
guide her through pains he had never known.
With each pain he slowly swore to himself he would not give her
another child to bear because he could not see her pained. It did not
stop his joy now as he watched her get to a position slowly and he
quickly understood his son would be born soon.
She cried out and he died a little each time, "think of our strapping
son... tales, lore, myth and fantasy will sing his name." He brushed
fevered lips to her forehead as she pushed the small elfling to
birth. He tied the cord, cleared the mouth and raised the babe to
suckle when he noticed the look in her eyes,
He buckled at the sight of her, "my love?" She no longer looked
pained but no longer of this world and his eyes pooled with unshed
"Stay with him, be strong and teach him what it is to be strong..."
Her voice was so far away and she already bore the look, the call to
To be strong, to be strong without her by his side. She had breathed
life to his very soul and now she gave it again as he held the
squirming bundle. The child looked to him but shut it's eyes with a
tired look of it's own.
He held the babe to her for inspection but her vacant and glassy
stare meant one thing. His fingers touched her face and as they did
they pulled her eyelids closed. "Strong, not strong enough for my
beloved...." He kissed her head as he thought of her going to peace
in Mandos where there was no more pain.
The babe lay there in his arms and he looked to the child. He took
his mother's cape and wrapped the babe in it then placed him on to
inspect him. Curls that put to shame the flowers in the meadows and
eyes as vivid as his mother's but a smile of mirth and amusement,
even in sleep.
"Glorfindel..." He said softly, "this day you know birth but one day
you will know far more. You are destined for greatness for I have
seen it in your eyes." The babe curled to his chest and in the other
arm he held his beloved.
Life and death a perfect scenario yet bittersweet in it's
presentation as he carried his loved ones and he carried them both to
To this day he thanked his son:
"Aye, you are strong." He felt her in the wind kissing his face and
he felt her voice on the breeze calling their names. The water seemed
to ripple as if to show her unforgotten face.
"You will never be without her, Glorfindel," his father pulled him
into his arms and sat by a weeping willow. "She has not left you
behind, when the breeze blows your hair then that is your mother's
touch. When you feel the tree's shade that is her embrace or the
sun's warmth is only a kiss to her boy. The grass along your feet is
her way of tickling you...... and the when the willow moves around is
it your mother's way of saying she loves you."
He kissed his head as watched the joy spread over his son's face at
the idea of his mother being a part of the ominous world around them
and he climbed onto his father's shoulder.
"She really watches, father?"
"Indeed she does, Glorfindel."
"Then she sees me?" He pulled his father's hair to keep his balance
as his father walked along the brook. Peering to the water he looked
for his mother or a resemblance of her. It was not what he saw but
what the child felt and when he closed his eyes the sun kissed him
"Aye, she would watch you grow tall and strong, as she wished."
"Then I will help her grow too. I will be tall, strong, honorable and
ever so smart so she grows proud....."
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