Chapter Text
By his side, Mairon whistled.
The children of Ilùvatar were young then and he had known that the other Valar would find their way to them eventually, Melkor had heard of the journey Oromë had taken three of them to be his ambassadors from the lands of the west but he’d been unable to ruin their path. He had not been idle, however. He’d spent long terrorizing the children, making it so that they would for ever more fear his shadow.
It was so that he had found himself rather surprised, not impressed, no, never impressed, staring down the walls of his fortress to one lonely figure by the entrance. The Eldar, as they called themselves, were not short of the foolish kind of folk that would appear at his front door hoping for glory or the overconfident belief that they, and they above all, would be able to enter his halls and free the lost of their people. But this one, in her embroidered dress and bringing no weapon, was not such.
It was enough that Mairon had been willing to let him hear about the bold eldar rather than simply disposing of such foolish target. And if Mairon had found it amusing enough then he could not refuse to listen to the woman.
“I am here to propose a trade”
She had said when he let her speak her purpose and it was that complete self-assured statement that led to Mairon whistle. He could hardly believe it.
No
“Lord Melkor, please hear my plea”
No
“Please, my lord of Arda, I wish for your blessed presence and mercy”
Not even a simple
“My most esteemed king above all, lord protector of Ëa, the beautiful Vala Melkor, I, the unworthy, can wish for nothing more than a single second of your far too important attention”
Mairon laughed “She has far more courage than I have ever seen in the Children, never seen one ask for death so brazenly”
Melkor scoffed, returning to himself his rage simmered beneath, but he decided Mairon was correct and that such brazen effort should be rewarded after all.
“Very well,” his voice boomed all the way down to the woman “What do you, little elda, wish to ask that you would risk my counsel?”
Her horse shuffled backward, her eyes darted around and she took a long, deep breath before actually pushing him forward again. Finally, he smirked, her faux confidence broke enough to let Melkor know that not yet had been born an Elda that didn’t fear him.
“I have long sought the Valar for help,” she explained, her voice gaining momentum with every word “But the answer has been the same each and every time and I’m terribly tired of it, I cannot trust them, they take my love to a distant land but they never-”
“There is another Vala” Melkor hissed, gripping the banister.
“Yes,” she acquiesced and Melkor thought he saw her gulping “That is precisely why I am here”
“Very well,”
“I wish for a child!”
Melkor choked.
“The gull!” Mairon exclaimed, his slitted pupils were so narrow you could barely see them, he looked ready to go down and strangle the woman.
“What?!” Melkor screamed, finally finding his voice again.
Somehow she seemed amused by them, Melkor chose to ignore it, “I do not bleed,” she explained “The other Valar say there is nothing to be done, but I know my love, I see it in his eyes and sense it on his spirit, he wishes for a child, I want to give him one.”
“Then just say so, you headless bint,” Mairon murmured, his breathing calming down.
Melkor sat on his thoughts for a moment, the woman's wish was far more placid than he imagined, it honestly surprised him that Manwë hadn’t simply granted it already, but then again, his brother was a pedantic asshole, something, something, the song and how we have to stick to dad’s will or whatever. Yes, he could see how such a simple wish would be met with rejection, and if Manwë refused then the other’s would follow suit.
It was almost sad, honestly.
“You were my last hope”
He looked at her.
“What would you give me then? You offered a trade”
“I,” her voice faltered “They call me the broidress, I realize it’s not-”
The gates opened in front of her and out came Melkor, he saw how she seemed ready to bolt away and smirked in satisfaction.
“You know who I am, do you not child?” he saw her hurriedly nodding “I will have a true trade, if being able to bear a child is what you wish for, that is what I may grant you, but in return, I want your firstborn.”
“No!”
She screamed, her fear gone, dark rider my he be but to Miriel he could perish.
What kind of trade was that? To give her something only to take it back? Then he was granting her nothing more than what she’d already been told by the rest of the Valar, she’d heard he was unfair, that he twisted everything he touched, but even so, she had hoped that she could at least find a better deal with him than the Valar shallow comfort of spiritual healing in their lands.
He simply laughed and Miriel didn’t know what to do, hurting him would be best but hardly feasible when she had no weapon, not even her needles.
“Just think, woman!” he said, getting closer to her “I grant your wish and you shall be able to walk to your lover at this very moment and create a child if you so wish, then another, and however many you eldar would be able to bear”
Miriel couldn’t deny the image painted was a tempting one, yes, Finwë had said he was content with just the two of them but she knew he wanted more, to raise a family in safety at long last. If she could give him that…
“All I ask,” Melkor’s voice seemed to come from her own mind “Is the first one of your plentiful brood, what is one, when you are finally able to have many?”
So much could go wrong, even his promise could be a lie, maybe she wouldn’t give birth to an elven child at all, made from his dark machinations she could hardly dismiss the possibility. He could be lying and the moment she agreed he’d tear her to pieces. It still seemed wrong in every way, but if she didn’t take this opportunity then what hope had she left?
A dangerous thought made it’s way into her mind, if she could trick the trickster, if she could find a way to have both the children and not give any away…
“I agree”
When news came that Melkor had fallen and taken back in chains to Mandos, Miriel cheered. She had long mulled over what she was to do with her terrible promise, the trade had been a success, she bled now and was considered a miracle by all, but not even Finwë’s delight when he learned about it upon his return managed to drive away her guilt. Now, however, she could believe the Valar promises of safety, she could be free to have her children and keep them by her side for all time.
She dreamed of terrible, all consuming, flames that night.
She tried to forget that dream, and the healers giving her the notice that she was in fact pregnant took her mind away from it for a time. Miriel took her joy in telling Finwë and watching him beam at her, seeing how their fledgling kingdom rejoiced at their happiness.
Flames, terrible, dark, flames.
Her first feeling for her child’s fëa was a disaster and Miriel had to finally admit that things were not well. And with every day that her fatigue grew she questioned if this was Melkor’s cruel punishment, if her pain was their deal.
Flames, high flames, waking her up in a sweat in the middle of the night.
And she cried, because she couldn’t do anything, even sewing was barred from her now, her hands would tremble too much and it had already caused for her to stab one of her needle through her finger, she cried, because it was her fault, she cried because she didn’t know how to protect her child, if he would even survive, that is.
Even with Finwë by her side, consoling her through the night, telling her it would all be alright, all she could do was cry. She wanted to talk to him but how could she ever tell him that she had sold away their child.
All she saw were flames while her healer and handmaiden told her to push.
But when she saw her child’s face she thought that, perhaps, burning was worth the pain.
She was tired, more tired than she’d ever been in her life, and she already knew that she had returned to how she had been before, no child could she ever bear now. It didn’t make her sad as she thought, not when she looked at the peaceful sleep of her child. Yes, everything would be alright with him.
Her little Fëanàro.
Miriel smiled, her full heart alleviating her spirit, she wanted to pick him up even if she shouldn’t as it would wake him up... she couldn’t resist. She was holding him when everything went dark.
“Well met, oh, queen broidress”