@tolkienocweek Day 7: Freeform - Amathorn
I'm a day late, but I still have more to yap about, so here we go. I have talked about my Gil-galad rebirth in Valinor fic three other days of this week, tldr; I am exploring an idea that was published in Elven Life Cycles part of The History of Middle Earth that elves who die can either be re-embodied, or reborn. In this fic, Gil-galad has chosen rebirth when his fëa is ready to leave Mandos, and his former Captain of the Guard from Lindon has found him and is helping his 2.0 parents with him while he still has not confessed to them about who exactly he was in his first life. Gil-galad is known by the name Fingal to his 2.0 mother at this point, who this snippet is from the point of view of. Reborn Gil-galad is in his early 30s here, so the equivalent of being about 8 by our standards.
A relaxed Amathorn in Valinor (picrew credit)
She was pretty sure that Amathorn and Fingal did not realize the window was open and she could hear them in the garden. They typically spoke Quenya when they knew she was around out of politeness, even if she did have a conversational grasp of Sindarian herself. It sounded like they were still playing chess in the library.
"Elenya, you are growing up you know."
Also out of politeness, she tried not to eavesdrop when she did hear them speaking Sindarian to each other, but the Quenya nickname mixed with the rest of the Sindarian words caught her ear, out of place as it was.
"Someone who was with us on the Isle of Balar would recognize you now in body even if they did not know you well enough to recognize you in fëa. And you only have less than twenty years until anyone who was in Lindon would recognize you. You had not lost all of your baby cheeks by the time," Amathorn paused. "Well, you know."
Her child sounded miserable.
"You need to tell your parents before someone recognizes you."
Fingal's voice had a bit of a whine to it, that she rarely heard. She would have laughed if this didn't feel so serious.
It was a long moment before her child responded.
"I don't want them to treat me differently. I just want to be loved as their son, not for any other reason." His voice grew quieter. "I do not want to be held at arms length. To be treated like some precious object rather than a child."
"Elenya, I do not believe they would do that."
"I know, I just - it was so hard, so lonely before. I never had many peers, and once it happened, everything changed, I - "
She heard muffled sobs, from her son, and soothing whispers from Amathorn. She felt like she was about to hear something she shouldn't, and abruptly stood and moved as quietly as she could from the garden out into the orchard, out of earshot.
The last thing she heard of Amathorn soothing him was "Oh Star, Star. I'm so sorry. This was never fair - "
He switched fully to Sindar, and was not mixing 'elen' in any more, but using 'gil' instead for Fingal's nickname. How odd.
Her heart ached at her son's reason for secrecy. She would love him the same no matter what! He had to know that. What possibly was his secret that would make him so frightened?
She wanted to go kiss those plump baby cheeks that he had evidently still had when... something had happened that would make him recognizable to Elves of an entire city. From what she had heard of Arda, Lindon had a fairly large population. What could he have done while still a child that would have changed the way people treated him?
From what she had been piecing together, her best guess was that he had been some kind of military leader or great warrior. Undoubtedly against Morgoth and his agents since Amathorn said he was not a kinslayer. Had he fought in some battle as a child? Slayed some great beast that elevated him in a way it destroyed his childhood?
Her child was so, so gentle. He was always flipping bugs off their backs when he found them stuck, and leaving water out for the animals on hot days. Her husband had disastrously tried to take him hunting and he had cried when his father shot the deer and had run away after seeing the blood when his father slit its throat to finish the kill. Fingal had not eaten venison for years after. Maybe it was because of the violence he had seen in his first life, but his little fëa seemed very soft for a lifelong soldier.
He had clearly once been lethal with that spear though. She had watched Amathorn running him through simple drills with the child sized and blunt tipped spear he had given Fingal for his twenty fifth begetting day. While the muscle was not there on his young body, his mind clearly remembered a different body where it was. His feet were swift, and while he did not have adult control of his movements, she could see millennia of practice.
She sat herself under a tree and looked up, counting the number of ripe peaches, debating if there were enough to make a pie. Her child was bribable with his sweet tooth she had learned, and if Amathorn was trying to cajole him into the difficult conversation, well, maybe it would help.
She wanted him to know he was safe. He would be loved no matter what. Whatever he had been pushed into too young before would not happen again, she would not allow it. This was Valinor, there was no need for warriors, no horrible creatures to fight. He would be safe.
Whatever Námo had promised him he would not have to do, she would do everything in her power to make good on it. If he was going to be recognized and did not want that, they would move somewhere that he was not.
She wondered again why he had no interest in finding his original birth parents. Was it simply because he was clinging to anonymity? Or was he not on good terms with them? Were they kinslayers? The sons of Fëanor were her distant cousins... But their only descendant was Celebrimbor and he had already been reembodied.
She had heard whispers about how damaged Celebrimbor still was. Being tortured to death by Sauron left wounds that evidently could not be healed by Mandos alone.
Oh by Eru, was that why Fingal had been reborn rather than reembodied? Was he still healing from some brutal and torturous death at the hands of Morgoth or Sauron? She had previously been thinking perhaps a Balrog due to the way he seemed to subconsciously lean away from fire. But this...
She stood, wanting to run to her child and hold him. She forced herself to not, he might still be speaking with Amathorn. Instead she began picking peaches. She was definitely making him a pie with dinner. Amathorn was staying for dinner too, she decided. There was enough time for him to send a messenger bird back to his husband to invite him as well.
She did not think that she could heal what Mandos could not with a peach pie, but it was worth a try. She was going to love her child in every way she could.
