AN 15: kinda a small chapter this time, there is just no other way for me to do this, sorry guys! The grand drama finale is about to come, and for those of you, which there no doubt are some of, expecting like a “real” mpreg thing, I am sorry to disappoint you, I am not really mentioning the actual pregnancy too much, simply because its not essential to the plot. The child is, though. I hope you understand anyways...

_______________________________________________________________________

Emptiness is loneliness

And loneliness is cleanliness

And cleanliness is godliness

And God is empty

Just like me.

You blame yourself for what you can’t ignore

You blame yourself for wanting more.

Smashing Pumpkins - Zero

Chapter 15 – I never let on that I was on a sinking ship.

-Two weeks later-

Erestor still resided in Mirkwood. Elrond swore that he had not received word from his advisor, and he did honestly not think he ever would. The words they had shared upon his departure had not been friendly. Ecthelion was strangely comforted by this, knowing that Elrond had not condoned Erestor’s behaviour. Back in his own little room, Ecthelion had had days and nights to think his situation over, but no matter what he thought up, it led him no closer to a conclusion. All he knew was that this was something he had to do himself. He could apparently not count on others. True... Glorfindel had gallantly offered to claim lordship of the child, and Ecthelion still entertained himself with that fantasy, what it would be like for the child to grow up with Glorfindel, Haldir and he. But after some time, Ecthelion himself disappeared out of that equation, leaving only the child, Glorfindel and Haldir. And now! Now he had slowly let his heart be filled with the longing for the sea, realising with dread that he did not even want to know this child inside him. He would never look upon it as his own, he would never be its mother, he would be something else. A child needed a mother! Not some emotionally crippled freak like him. But this line of thoughts also led him into a blind spot and no closer to a solution.

Maybe it was because he had wanted too badly to have a part in Tuor’s son, maybe the Valar had seen him mother Eärendil whenever the chance was there. He had loved that child with his entire being, loved him just as much as he had wished him undone. Even if he had wished that Eärendil had never been born, he would have laid down his life for the child, and now, now he had the twins, they were but toddlers really, and spent most of their time on their mother’s lap or with the nanny when poor Celebrian thought she would go insane if she did not get some time to herself. But for some reason he felt a strong bond to these children as well, and he was sure they would grow up to become fine elves some day. But where did this all leave him? Had he really wanted a child of his own so badly that the Valar had granted him one? But why like this? Why not just present him with a female elf and let him sire children the normal way? Why throw temptation his way in the embodiment of Elrond’s chief advisor’ Erestor?

A knock on the door shook Ecthelion out of his gloomy musings, and as Elrond peeked inside, he couldn’t help but smile because the ruler of Imladris had finger paint in his hair. “Good afternoon, my friend,” Elrond said, and came into the room, standing next to Ecthelion in the window overlooking the garden. “My servants tell me you return the trays untouched. This will not do, Ecthelion. You must eat.”

“But I feel sick to my stomach,” Ecthelion whined.

“You worry too much, you shouldn’t burden yourself with ‘what ifs’ and ‘could be’s,’” Elrond said softly with a little smile. “You have to deal with this sooner or later, and you must consider the possibility that Erestor will not return. Will you still brood? You should be thrilled, you should be happy. Not troubled and locked inside this big house.”

To Elrond’s surprise, Ecthelion turned around and slammed his fist into the wall. “I am tired of trying to be happy!” he spat. “I’m not! I don’t want this...any of this!” Elrond took a step back from Ecthelion, who kept raging. “This child is unnatural! It’s wrong! I..I..” Ecthelion’s rage disappeared as he gave into despair. “I wish I had never set foot on Middle-earth again.”

Elrond wrapped his arms around Ecthelion as he slowly sat down on the floor. “You will be an excellent parent. I saw you with the twins,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to be an excellent parent. I don’t want to be a parent, period!” Ecthelion wept. “Elrond, when this child is born. I shall travel to the grey havens. I long to see the ocean. I have never seen it, but still my mind feeds me pictures of white birds and soft breezes.”

Elrond took Ecthelion’s face in his hands to make sure he looked him directly into his eyes. “Do you realise what you are saying?” he whispered with urgency.

Ecthelion nodded as much as the hold would let him. “My child has a future here, but I do not.” Blinking a tear from his eye, Ecthelion smiled sadly at Elrond. “Namo told me that my part in Middle-earth was not over, but maybe it is not I, but rather my child who has a part to play, and I am merely the vessel. Maybe it really is true that Erestor did not sire this child. Maybe no one did, maybe it is pure magic.”

Elrond sat with his mouth agape, something that was both very unbecoming and rare for the leader of Imladris. He had not even thought of the prospect of magic, he had just assumed that Ecthelion was not ready to tell who the real father was, and that he had wanted it badly to be Erestor because of the love they bore for each other. But magic, yes that would explain a lot! Only magic would overwrite magic!

“Elrond, I want my child to grow up here. I want it to play with your sons and make merry in the lovely gardens I have watched for so long, but I do not want to be here to see it. I never want to see it. I don’t even desire to know its sex,” Ecthelion whispered.

“I...I...” Elrond stuttered, for once being the one at loss for words. “I must speak with Celebrian.”

“I understand,” Ecthelion whispered, slumping as Elrond let go of his head. “I don’t expect you and your wife to take on this burden of mine, but you know the inhabitants here, and I trust you will find it a suitable family who will treat it as their own.”

“Ecthelion,” was all Elrond could say, clearly touched by the other elf’s wish.

_____________________________________________________________

The day after, Ecthelion had decided to spend his evening watching the sunset from the gardens, instead of the view he knew too well from his window. He had not even noticed lady Celebrian before she sat down next to him on the slope overlooking the bruinen. “Good evening,” she said softly, hoping she wouldn't startle the other elf.

“Lady Celebrian!” Ecthelion gasped. “Good evening to you too, my lady.” He didn’t know what to say, but as he looked at the female elf, neither did she, and he could only take it that Elrond had talked with his wife, and that this was the reason for her company. “I presume you talked with Elrond,” he said, taking a plummet out into the real issue, instead of exchanging pleasantries.

“I did” Celebrian said, and taking Ecthelion’s hand, she looked him right in his eyes. “I beg you to change your mind. Please stay here in our house and raise your child.”

Ecthelion shook his head sadly. “I want to offer my child the best.”

Celebrian squeezed Ecthelion’s hand. “You are the best, even if you do not think you are. No one in the whole world can claim your title as this child’s rightful parent.”

“Forgive me, lady Celebrian,” Ecthelion said as he slowly withdrew his hands from hers, “but my mind is made up.”

The white lady of Rivendell sighed softly and nodded. “Elrond and I talked this matter over, and I decided that I wanted this chance to talk with you before giving my answer.” Celebrian looked away from Ecthelion and off into the horizon. “Taking upon myself to raise a child that is not mine is no small task, and honestly I wanted to be sure you would not come and claim it later. It would surely break my heart to part with a being that I had grown that close to.”

“Your words offer me great comfort, my lady,” Ecthelion whispered as he too settled his gaze upon the horizon. “I was afraid to even dream that Elrond and you should even consider taking this burden upon yourself.”

Celebrian smiled vaguely. “There is something you should know, Ecthelion. When Elrond first came to me with this proposal, I thought the Valar had answered my prayers. You do not know this, because it is a private matter. But given the circumstances, I believe that you have some right to know.” She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on her knees like a young girl. “After giving birth to the twins, something happened, and it is impossible for me to bear children again, and I desperately wanted a little girl, a princess. My mother had seen me with a baby girl in her mirror, and when I found I was barren, I lost all faith in the Valar, but now Ecthelion, you come along and so selflessly offer me this gift.”

Ecthelion had listened in silence with growing sadness. The lady’s voice sounded so full of tears that the dark haired elf couldn't help but to feel touched. “I have but one term,” he whispered. “I want this child to grow up as one of your own, never to know what its origin is. All paperwork that Elrond might have must be destroyed or bear your name, not mine. It must never, ever know.” Subconsciously he rubbed his already swollen stomach. While he spoke with soft words, his voice took upon itself a desperate edge as he looked straight at the lady Celebrian. “Promise me this, you must promise me.”

For a long moment Celebrian sat quietly, not knowing what to answer. Could she really live that lie? In the end she nodded. “I swear to never tell the child about you, or to give it any indications that I should not be its birth mother, and Elrond not its father. It shall grow up as a natural sibling to the twins and never ever know about its origin.”

Ecthelion nodded in agreement. This was more than he could ever have hoped for. “Thank you,” he whispered, not knowing what words suited the situation. For a frantic moment he couldn't help but think if things would be different if Erestor had stayed. Maybe they would, maybe they wouldn't. Elrond was right, and so was Glorfindel. He could not cling to daydreams.

Celebrian just sat in silence, watching the now moonlit sky. “You should inform Erestor,” she suddenly whispered.

“I will,” Ecthelion said. “I fear he won’t even read my letter, but I promise to make him aware of the arrangement.” he cringed at the word ‘arrangement,’ but he just didn’t know what else to call it. A deal? No that sounded even worse, and a promise sounded like a marriage.

“Good,” Celebrian whispered, and after sitting like this in silence for a little while she pointed up in the sky. “Look, it’s the north star,” she said softly.

“Yes,” Ecthelion said, remembering being a very young and naïve elf, sitting on a rooftop with Ithildin, watching the stars, dreaming about their future. Somehow this was never a part of it. He had never believed he should sit on a grassy slope and offer a piece of his very soul to a female elf he hardly knew. Never in a million years could he have foreseen that.

TBC

_________________________________________________________

As we’re nearer to the end

Here we are again

We’ve come a long way my friend

How many hours we have spent

This is my day

This is my day

And I wanted to let you know

This is my day

This is my day

And I’m gonna be ok.

Blue Foundation – my day.

Chapter 16 – This is my day, and I’m gonna be OK.

Ecthelion sat at his desk and stared at the parchment. Maybe he shouldn’t do this, maybe he really should just let sleeping dogs lie. But Glorfindel had assured him that Erestor was just being difficult, not that he knew why. He put the pen to the paper and took a deep sigh. Erestor deserved the truth.

Dearest Erestor,

I cannot claim that I understand your choice, but I felt I had to inform you of....

Ecthelion crumpled up the parchment. This was stupid. He didn’t know what to say, and all he wanted to do was to curse Erestor out, and beg on his bleeding knees to come home, but he was done begging.

Dearest Erestor,

I will not ask anything of you, but I will tell you this, I shall leave this place once this abomination I carry inside draws its first breath. You do not need to worry; I will not claim that you sired it, nor that I carried it. I will hand it over to suitable caretakers, and it shall never know the heartache it springs from. Neither will I know its gender or name, so you can safely return to your home within the next moon. You will not find me here, and I will never contact you again. Forgive me, but I don’t seem to know how not to ruin everything and everyone around me.

Yours, Ecthelion.

He looked at the letter and frowned. It was an idiotic letter, but he reckoned it was as good as it got, and therefore rolled it up and sealed it, ready to go with a messenger to Mirkwood.

_____________________________________________

Ecthelion waddled out from the healing house. He hated the way this extra weight made him walk. He was used to walking tall, but this made him feel old, to have trouble walking up the stairs to his room, and just the short walk from the healing house to the main house left him out of breath. Elrond had examined him, finding no means for the child to exit, and Ecthelion had nearly panicked. He wasn’t sure if it was the thought of carrying this thing inside him forever, or that it would rip out of him, tearing him apart like a ripe plum. Elrond had held his hand and soothed him, and not once laughed at his silly fears, but had instead told him that he would put him to sleep and make a fine cut in his abdomen, pulling the child out that way, for lack of other methods, as nature had not granted him one. This had in fact soothed Ecthelion. It didn’t sound as scary as he had imagined, and a scar, well he didn’t mind scars.

But what had unsettled him, was that Elrond had said that the child was now the same size as a normal baby born by a female in the end of the last trimester, in other words, the birth was close. Ecthelion stopped in front of the stairs leading up to the big doors to the main house. He panted and felt a sharp pain in his side, like had he run for hours. He held a hand to his side, suddenly feeling the child shift slightly inside him, stretching his already abused skin. Now that Elrond had assured him that the child would not suddenly burst out of him, he didn’t get as frightened, and with a testing hand gently pushed back. The child pushed back shortly after, and Ecthelion was sure he could see the outline of a little foot. For a second he was curious as to who it was he had carried around inside, after all the child was a little piece of him, and a little piece of Erestor. Then he shook his head at his own stupidity. He had made his choice and it was best for all.

____________________________________________________

-1 week later-

Elrond’s worries increased as the child grew, and now he could estimate that it had the same weight and height as a normal child when it was about to be born. He would have to take the child out of Ecthelion within days, if both the mother, or vessel (he did not know what to call Ecthelion exactly), and child were to avoid complications. He knew that Ecthelion had sent a letter to Mirkwood. He did not know what it said, but he could imagine what it could be, taken Ecthelion’s gloomy mood into consideration. Celebrian was edgy as well, afraid that if she showed too much excitement in the upcoming birth, and a babe in the family, then Ecthelion would change his mind, even if Ecthelion had tried to soothe Celebrian several times, making sure that he stood by his decision. Maybe Elrond’s worries would have been less if Ecthelion had eaten, but he didn’t seem to like taking nourishment. The child grew like a parasite, draining Ecthelion of every resource his body had, leaving the elf pale and skinny, not healthy and chubby as pregnancies usually were. Ecthelion had gone from a muscular, well built warrior to something resembling a skeleton, sullen and malnourished.

Ecthelion lay on his bed, not sure he had the strength it took to walk all the way down to the evening meal. A nap seemed much more inviting. He curled up on his bed, silently praying for this to end.

In the middle of the night Ecthelion woke when he heard his door screech on its hinges, and the soft footsteps that followed. He rolled over and looked at the intruder. The guest was obscured in shadow, and a large hood hid his face, but he smelled of rain and horse. Ecthelion raised a brow, not having a single clue why this person would come here.

The person stepped forth, and now stood in the subtle light of the candles that still burned. He pulled his hood back, and to Ecthelion’s surprise his mystery guest was Erestor. “What are you doing here?” Ecthelion spat.

Erestor dropped to his knees with a thud. The impact had to have hurt, judging from the sound of his knees meeting the floorboards, “I..” Erestor whispered, “I did you wrong, and I ask your forgiveness.”

Ecthelion felt white-hot anger flare. “You cast me aside when you saw fit, and now you expect me to pity you because you fall to your knees?” He turned his head and looked away from Erestor. “That will not happen, ‘friend,’” he hissed.

“Will you hear what I have to say then?” Erestor said, moving closer to Ecthelion on his knees.

“Speak if you must,” Ecthelion said, not really interested in whatever stupid excuses Erestor would come up with. He had left him when everything crashed down, and he was not going to forgive so easily.

Slowly Erestor had inched his way to the bed, looking up at Ecthelion. With cold wet hands he gently took Ecthelion’s hand in his. “For decades I wished for nothing but an heir, someone to carry my name long after I had perished, for I was sure I would. I never thought I would linger in Middle-earth. I thought my ending would be swift and bloody.” Erestor tried to hold Ecthelion’s gaze but found the other elf was unwilling to look at him. “You know this, you too were a soldier.”

Ecthelion nodded, and to his annoyance tears stung in the corners of his eyes. He didn’t want to weep like a scorned maid, but he couldn't help it, he was heartbroken and exhausted, and seeing Erestor was just too much. He refused to meet Erestor's eyes as he felt tears run down his cheeks, hot and thick.

Erestor kissed Ecthelion’s hand gently before he continued. “You are so much braver than I, you told of your deception, where I did not, not even to you whom I proclaimed I loved, for my secret is dark and old. I feared and fear still that you shall shun me for what I have to say.” Erestor took a deep shuddering breath and squeezed Ecthelion’s hand. “I was cursed by the Valar, cursed for my stupidity in my youth,” he said. “Not only would I never find peace, love or know true friendship, but my loins are cold, my bloodline cannot be carried on. The Valar made sure of that.” As Ecthelion looked down at Erestor, Erestor bowed his head and whispered, “I am Maglor, the second born of Fëanor’s sons.”

Ecthelion could not be more surprised even if he tried. “But...” he whispered, wondering how it could be that a kinslayer’s eyes could be that soft and full of love, and how his lips could be so soft.

“It was not because I do not love you I left. I do love you, more than you will ever imagine. I have lived for decades knowing that love would never truly be mine, until you came,” Erestor looked up and smiled a little nervous smile, “but the Fëanorian bloodline cannot continue, the Valar themselves forbade it, and I shall never have an heir”.

“But Elrond...” Ecthelion mumbled, shaking his head, trying to take in this information.

“For the longest time I wandered the shores, a ghost in the flesh, praying the Valar for pity, to slay me and end my misery,” Erestor said, “but none came, until the day I thought I had lost my mind. I had been alone with nothing but dreams of death for so long, that I no longer wanted to exist, and since the Valar were deaf to my pleas, I had wanted to fling myself from a cliff.” Erestor rested his head on Ecthelion’s knee and sighed softly. “Then a blond spectre came to me, asking me not to forsake my life. He told me to cast my name and seek my foster son, serve him well and honestly, this was my one chance of redemption for my wicked deeds.”

Ecthelion laid a trembling hand on Erestor’s hair and buried his fingers in the black mane. “You cannot go west,” he whispered.

“No,” Erestor whispered. “I cannot.” Erestor placed a hand on Ecthelion’s swollen stomach and rubbed it tenderly. “When you came, you frightened me. I was not supposed to find love, and I was not allowed an heir, so I got frightened and believed it all to be a cruel jest from the Valar.”

“Maybe you are done redeeming yourself. Maybe this is, however tragic, your gift from the Valar,” Ecthelion said. “I looked in Galadriel’s mirror, and I saw you. You wore a faceless mask and were in flames, but I knew my reason to my return lay in you somehow. I had never thought I would find love either,” Ecthelion smiled awkwardly. “Now I know what it means,” he whispered.

______________________________________________

Even if Elrond had worried, the birth of the baby went smoothly. Erestor had sat by Ecthelion’s side during the operation, worrying to no end, and annoying Elrond because he was scared that Ecthelion might not wake from this strange lifeless state.

As Ecthelion slowly woke, his first reaction was to touch his stomach that was now flat but the skin felt loose. He turned his head, seeing Erestor sitting in a chair by the window, hearing his lover coo like an idiot to the bundle he held in his arms.

Erestor noticed movement, and turned his head, looking at Ecthelion. He got up from his chair and came over to sit at Ecthelion’s side in the bed. “You gave me a gift I would never have dreamed of,” he whispered, blinking away emotional tears from his eyes.

Ecthelion looked at the bundle, and frowned. “I don’t want to know, I don’t want to see it. Should it not be with Celebrian?”

“No,” Erestor whispered. “I wanted to hold her first.”

“It’s a girl?” Ecthelion whispered, dreading the moment when Erestor turned slightly in his seat, showing him the tiniest elfling he had ever seen. She stared at him with huge almond shaped blue eyes. “She’s beautiful.” He reached up and touched the baby’s nose, as if to make sure it was not a mirage or something.

“Yes,” Erestor said dreamily, “she has my fathers mouth.” This made him smile, knowing how proud Fëanor would have been, seeing this miracle child. “Like a true lady of Tirion,” he whispered, kissing the child’s head, before he handed her over to Ecthelion who took her with a twitch, afraid he would break or drop her. But the baby didn’t seem to mind. And Ecthelion smiled. “Your mother will be here soon, little one,” he whispered, surprised to find this made him teary-eyed. He had not expected to feel anything. “I cannot be your mother, my lady. But I can watch over you.” He looked up at Erestor, who beamed with love and pride. “We both will, never will we stray from your side, even if you will never know who we really are.” Tears streamed from his eyes by now. He had thought it would be easy to leave the child, but found that his vow was true. He would never be able to leave, and now he just hoped that Celebrian wouldn't mind that he stayed.

Celebrian came into the room together with Elrond. They looked at Erestor and Ecthelion and the baby, and Celebrian slowly and carefully walked over to the bed, and looked down at Ecthelion and the baby.

Ecthelion looked up and smiled through his tears. “Take good care of her,” he croaked, as he handed the child off to Celebrian, who instantly held her close. Ecthelion felt Erestor's hand in his. “Did you mean what you said?” Erestor said. “Will you stay with me, and not venture west yet?”

“If I may stay here,” Ecthelion said, looking at Celebrian with a plea in his eyes, “let me stay close. I cannot be her mother, but I cannot leave her either.”

“Of course,” Elrond said, stepping up to Erestor, laying his hand on his foster father’s shoulder. “You can stay for as long as you wish.”

____________________________________

EPILOGUE:

Arwen beamed as a rare jewel as she held Estel’s hand. She had looked forward to this moment for so long. It was hard to understand that they had overcome all obstacles and she was finally to be wed to her beloved. Elrond held their hands and squeezed them with a warm smile, telling Estel to take good care of his daughter. Estel promised, looking from Elrond to Arwen, who was the most beautiful lady he had ever seen.

Ithildin and Erestor stood behind and watched, finding each other hands behind their backs. “She’s beautiful,” Erestor whispered to his beloved.

Ithildin laid his head on Erestor’s shoulder. “I wish it could be me who stood there and handed her to her husband,” he whispered with a little sad smile.

“You are,” Erestor said, “in your own way.” He smiled and leaned in and kissed his lover. “We can’t follow here on the path she chose. She doesn’t need someone to protect her anymore.”

“I know, and my heart weeps,” Ithildin whispered, wiping the tears of sorrow and joy from his eyes. “It is time we leave.”

Erestor turned and kissed Ithildin again. “My heart longs to see the white tower of Tirion once more,” he whispered. “Maybe I have finally been forgiven.”

“I hear the sea as well,” Ithildin whispered, “but let us stay until we cannot ignore the calling any more.”

Erestor nodded and held Ithildin close, watching the wedding ceremony. “I love you, Ecthelion,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Maglor,” Ithildin whispered with a smug smile.

- THE END -