My child grows, but as the life quickens within me I feel a sense of foreboding - yet I know not why. For this is the son of my beloved, our heir: for a mighty land he shall inherit. Never before have I had the gift, or curse, of foresight. Yet perhaps this is a warning that I should heed, or mayhap it is the nervousness of a mother that carries her first child. It is new to me this feeling, as it is but scant weeks since my husband laid his seed within my womb and kindled this tiny spark of life. He will be one of the first of my people to be born and raised in Aman, the land in which the Valar abide.
As time passes he becomes stronger and I feel my own strength wane, as if the babe is leeching the energy from my body. Yet I do not begrudge him this, for I feel that the will to live and thrive is strong within him. Even if the price of bringing him into this world is my life, then so be it! For my life is nothing when compared to this precious gift; already I love him greatly, for such is the bond between a mother and her unborn child. I am so very afraid, but to let this fear overcome me would indeed be a grievous sin: to put my life before the life of one so helpless. I am not merely a mother extolling the worth of her child, for although he is a precious gift, he
more important than any other.
I have seen visions now, of such clarity and force that I know them to be true: flames on the horizon and blood, torrents of blood, soaking the sand and the earth. My mind recoils from these images and I am loath to accept them, even as a warning of what may come. Yet, despite my reluctance, I must accept them and set them aside, for the future is not set in stone and it may be that this is but one of the many paths that is laid before us. If I am spared and am able to guide him well, then my visions may not come to pass, and my little prince can live in peace in this land of bliss.
I have placed my life in the hands of the Valar and all I can do now is hope that I gain their blessing. I am told that being with child is a joyous occasion and that the sense of being in harmony with the world is heightened, even beyond the capacity of my people. This is surely one of the most miraculous of the gifts granted to us by Ilúvatar. Despite this wondrous gift I am weary, always so weary, even in the midst of my rejoicing.
My belly is now swollen and I am great with child. The birth pangs have begun, and blood trickles down my legs. I feel my body being consumed from within, and it is torment. As I see this child, I wonder that something so small can cause so much pain. I laboured long to bring him into the world and the fire is truly great within this tiny babe. I know that although he is named Curufinwë, he shall be forever known as Fëanor, spirit of fire. The love I feel for him is overwhelming, but each breath I now draw is torment and I long for release.
As I look at my husband, I grieve for him and for the many children we desire but shall now never look upon. I must tell him this, for as I now accept the truth so should he. I have longed for a daughter, to watch her grow and pass on my knowledge, but I must be content with my son.
I am loath to part with my beloved, but even the Valar themselves are powerless in this and so I must now appeal to the will of Ilúvatar himself, to keep my son safe and to heal the grief of my husband. Mayhap I should have told of the future that I see for my son - but forgive me, as I could not then, I cannot now. I can only hope that I am indeed held blameless. For if I am wrong I have paid for my folly with my life. He is my son and I will not judge him and will protect him to the end.
As he was born: a child of fire, in fire he shall perish and so we will be reunited at long last. Fëanaro farewell, live in peace until we meet again.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.