Chapter Text
By now, Glorfindel was well aware that the Edain were rather bizarrely under-cooked by Eru.
That was the only explanation, that the Third Theme of the Music had been hastily scribbled on, rather experimentally, dropping the few very good features of the Eldar in favor of… Faster reproduction rates, he supposed?
Oh, Glorfindel was grouching, that for sure, but he could only once again sigh heavily at Gilraen’s uncomprehending face as she clutched the baby to her chest with confusion written in every feature. She deserved so much better than this fear.
Why, why would Eru hurt the Edain so? Why put all the effort of childbearing on one of the parents, literally all of it??? And make them pop out babies at a horrifying rate at that???
Rubbing his brow, he sat down on the chair across from her. -Ai, let me explain this more clearly, then, my Lady.-
-Ah, yes, this would be appreciated. There is truly no wet nurse to be found?- Gilraen’s face was struck in an expression of dismay as she clutched her son closer.
He was so tiny that Glorfindel couldn’t help but wish to reach out and swaddle him in his spirit, all his protective instincts flaring up.
A baby in the Valley! A babe, not weaned yet, not even three moons old! And Elrond had given him the honor of being the one to help, if Gilraen accepted him.
But here came the issue of the Edain being under-cooked.
-There are no children in Imladris at present, so there is none to be found, not as Edain understand one.- he explained gently, but before her face fell into full on heartbreak he raised his hand. -But, my Lady, the Eldar do things...a bit differently to what you are used to.-
-My Lord, please, do not jest about such matters.- She said softly. – If there is no wet nurse in the Valley, then at least goat milk would work.-
She was so shaken by those news because she had no milk from the sheer stress of the last few months. Glorfindel could only grit his teeth as he remembered how that particular affliction had plagued many during the more fraught times.
That’s why he was here.
He could help with this.
-Lady Gilraen. To put it very bluntly.- Glorfindel smiled at her, eyes gentle. – Elf men also can breastfeed. Its different for us, in that the spiritual effort put into a child alone is enough to prompt that, without the need to carry one.-
Gilraen blinked at him mutely.
- I am not jesting. For the Eldar, to bring a child into the world is a collaboration every step of the way. Elflings require nurturing in spirit too, and that usually falls to the sire. And then, after the birth, its just more practical to have both parents be able to feed the child.- He rubbed his face again. – Thus, here I am, offering myself as a wet nurse. Most people in the Valley would gladly do it, but Lord Elrond chose me for I am skilled in mind-arts and powerful enough there would be no issue for me to protect the spirit of your son, if such need arose. Lord Elrond cannot do that himself, he is peredhel, it doesn’t work for him, but I can. Of course, if you would rather chose somebody else, I assure you there would be no issue with that.- he finished, looking at her with a tilted head, twiddling nervously with his thumbs.
Oh, there would be no issue, for sure, but Glorfindel couldn’t say he wouldn’t be highly disappointed.
It was an honor, to be allowed to help with a child in such a way, and he had ever yearned for it.
Already, he could tell he was getting a bit baby-mad in the presence of the boy. He was just so small, and Glorfindel’s whole reason for being alive was to protect. Gilraen too was radiating stressed-scared-anxious-help with an intensity that made his teeth itch, so he really, really wanted to be able to do something about it.
Gilraen made a soft noise from across the table, brow furrowing. -How is that possible?-
-Ah, well.- Glorfindel pursed his lips slightly. – I assume this is some sort of adaptation to the harsh environment of Cuivenien that remained in us. If there is a baby in need, well, sometimes one only needs to hold them for a few hours before the milk comes in. Normally the father shares the breastfeeding duties with the mother, and the onset is much more gradual, but in cases like this...well, the most optimal way of guaranteeing this would be for me to form a parental bond with the boy, though it might work without that, just with constant contact. Either way, I, or truly, any male elf, can nourish a child as well as you could.-
It would be painful, to keep himself from forming a true bond when the deepest recess of his spirit already howled at him to do it, do it and hold that child and keep them safe, but it was doable, it was, and if Gilraen would not wish him to do it he wouldn’t.
It would be painful either way, for they had not the luxury of time to let his body adapt to it gradually, but Glorfindel would gladly and easily bear that. He had borne worse pain for less cause.
Gilraen exhaled, holding the boy close. -And you are truly not jesting?- she asked in a small voice, dead serious.
-I am not. I would not dare.- Glorfindel inclined his head. -I swear on my honor that this is truth.-
She stood up, and deposited the boy in his arms. – Then I trust you with my son, Lord Glorfindel. I know not what is the parental bond you speak about, but it does not sound to be an evil thing. Do what you think is best.-
Glorfindel made a soft noise, looking at the boy, then her, and then back at Estel again, with eyes wide and luminous with Tree-light. Estel was light in his arms, tiny, blinking up at him with gray eyes, the black hair on his head very dense for a baby, and Glorfindel couldn’t help but coo softly.
Only after a second Gilraen’s words registered, and he whipped his head up to look at her with burning eyes.
She was nervous, that much was true, but she also seemed reassured by his interaction with Estel, shoulders slumping slightly, eyebrows smoothing out. -Ah, have I misspoken?- she asked, flinching in the face of the full intensity of his focus.
He forced himself to breathe in deeply a few times, ignoring the shaky thing in the back of his mind and the weak feeling of his limbs as he held the boy, the small spark of his spirit reaching out to his with easy curiosity.
-Elflings require somebody to tether their spirits to Arda until they grow enough to do that themselves.- He managed, cradling Estel closer, barely stopping himself from reaching back to him. -Its a mind and spirit bond with their parents or caretakers, that helps soothe them. The formation of it would surely trigger my hroä into making milk.-
-But he is not an elfling?- Gilraen appeared puzzled, gently resting her hand on his shoulder in an unsure attempt to ground him. Glorfindel appreciated that.
-He has enough elf-blood for it to work. He is reaching out to me as we speak, weakly, but he is.- He replied, feeling his hands begin to shake, jaw tensing. -Ai, excuse my state, but it is rather difficult to keep myself from reaching back on instinct. I...I think it would be best, if I did bond with him.-
-Do you require anything to do it, my Lord?- Gilraen asked, sitting on the chair beside them, and Glorfindel could have cried for the relief of being allowed to help and bond with the baby fully.
-No, no, though skin contact helps.- he smiled breathlessly, raising Estel up and touching foreheads with him, making the boy giggle. He was so bright. -Here you are, little one.-
Gilraen nodded, the stress falling off of her. -Good, then. I...would you rather I leave?-
-No, I...as long as my lady is not bothered by a partial state of undress in me, it would be good to stay here.- Glorfindel admitted, with a great effort of will handing Estel back to her, beginning to work on shedding his tunics. He had dressed light, but it was still two layers too much for his liking at the moment.
Gilraen flushed slightly, but nodded, helpfully unwrapping Estel from his blanket, leaving the baby to pout at her only in his nappy.
Glorfindel bit the inside of his cheek not to coo at the sight, and shrugged off the thin under-tunic he had on, left shirtless, the scars from the Balrog’s whip sneaking like snakes of living light along his arms. -Here you go, little one.- he murmured, picking the boy up and cradling him close against his chest, letting that little light take what it needed from his own, wrapping him up in a soft, warm layer of brightness and comfort-safety-care.
It took barely a heartbeat for his mind to flash into a thousand colors, a lightning searing any and all semblance of hesitation into a burnt crisp, and he staggered back to sit on the chair, hissing softly. It didn’t as much hurt as it crackled along his nerves, making his muscles tense, his breath driven out of him.
Estel giggled again, little limbs flailing in his hold, cuddling close to his chest, and Glorfindel could only smile brightly, shedding soft light, curling up around the boy protectively and mutter soft, meaningless words in Quenya.
Gilraen laughed with a startle at that, coming closer with curiosity, and he blinked at her, cradling the boy closer, not intending to let him go any time soon. She smiled at that. -Ah, I see this is quite a joyous occasion for you, my Lord?- she asked.
Glorfindel could only nod mutely, pressing a soft kiss to Estel’s forehead, making the baby pat his chest.
Estel was so bright and beautiful at the edge of his mind, so very fragile, and he was his now. His to cherish and protect and keep fed and safe.
Something very ancient woke up in his bones at that, and he felt his cheeks grow wet from tears. -I...My lady, may I...I am afraid I shall not relinquish your son any time soon.- he admitted shakily after a moment, the sole thought of letting Estel go making frozen claws rake through his gut.
-I understand.- She absolved him gently. -Ah, but my lord, wouldn’t you rather lie down with him? I assume it would be more comfortable for both of you.-
-Yes please.- Glorfindel nodded sharply, before drawing a few deep breaths, feeling a blush color the tips of his ears.
That tone had not been one to use with a lady while being half naked. It was altogether far too needy. Alas, he would be much more horrified at himself, if his mind wasn’t filled with static noise and the tiny heartbeat of the boy, drumming in his head as surely as it would be if he pressed his ear to his chest.
Parental bonds were powerful things. Not as strong as oath-sworn marriage ones, but near that.
He would be bond-drunk for the rest of today and the next two days most probably, mind running in loops about the boy and nothing else in particular.
Gilraen flushed hearing his enthusiastic agreement, but didn’t comment, just led him by the elbow to the bedroom. -Here. You look rather faint.- She said softly, and Glorfindel grinned at her gratefully, laying down and cuddling Estel close.
-I...I thank you for your trust.- he managed to say, semi-coherently, before allowing himself to stop thinking and just stare and hold the boy gently, the black hair on his tiny head soft as he stroked it with a thumb, the whole span of his back barely half of his hand, skin soft and smooth, smelling of milk and baby.
He was so small. Glorfindel felt the urge to keen. Were all babies this small? He could have sworn they were bigger, weren’t they?
Swaddling him securely in the warmth of his spirit Glorfindel drifted off into sleep, the adrenaline surge leaving him tired and feeling scrubbed raw. Estel also went to sleep, lulled by the steady heartbeat and sense of sleepy-safe-tired surrounding him from Glorfindel’s hold.
****
Gilraen watched the sleeping elf who was holding her son like a treasure, and could only sigh deeply.
This was... not what she had expected, to the contrary, it was the furthest thing from anything she had imagined on that arduous journey to the Valley. That male elves could nurse? And for so little reason, with so little prompting at that?
She bit her lip, worrying with the edge of her sleeves. Lord Glorfindel had looked extremely earnest while telling her all of that, and then she had seen with her own two eyes how simply holding Estel had overwhelmed him to the point he looked like he was going to faint. And then, what reason would he have to lie to her? He was a fabled hero, truly, if she couldn’t trust anything else she probably could trust his honor.
From all she had seen up until now, for the whole two days, (and has it been only two days since arriving here? It felt like an eternity to her.) Gilraen had seen time and time again that elves adored children. Or, perhaps, just her son. They were so very concerned for both of them, so very gentle and sweet, and Gilraen wanted to cry.
And now this? This...this was beyond any comprehension for her. To have the Balrog Slayer, the perhaps most noble person in the whole Valley after Lord Elrond and his children, that Balrog Slayer offer to… to nurse her son in all the ways of his kind...
Gilraen flushed slightly, feeling sharply inadequate. She couldn’t even feed Estel properly.
It would be good for her son. He had been so miserable this last, arduous week, living off of goat milk. If before he had grown like a weed, every second day getting noticeably bigger, he had stalled, and Gilraen couldn’t help but feel quiet despair strangle her, adding even more to the anxiety until she just… couldn’t. Couldn’t get even a drop of milk out of herself.
But even beyond that, beyond the most pressing concern, so bafflingly resolved, being under Lord’s Glorfindel’s tutelage would make Estel into a great warrior. Would keep him safe.
But oh, was this whole situation so very odd.
She averted her eyes sharply from where she had been half-curiously staring at the half-naked form of the elf on her bed, feeling her ears and cheeks burn with a blush. It was… It was a lot.
Lord Glorfindel was an exceptionally handsome man. She could tell that from the second he had introduced himself. He was tall, broad, built like a warrior but yet lithe still, face youthful but not young, sharply defined features somehow warm and gentle, eyes impossibly old.
And here he was. Shirtless, holding her son on his chest like a tiny blessing. Estel looked even smaller next to him, like a barely born babe, and he wasn’t fussing at all, sleeping peacefully.
She tried to keep her eyes on her son, and not wander too much with her gaze, for this already felt so very improper, but she was only human.
Glorfindel’s muscles were well defined, in the way of a skilled warrior. Scars, so many scars, ranging from short, barely visible lines of old cuts to the gruesome-looking curling vines of a whip around his arms only highlighted his built, and oh, Gilraen felt her mouth grow dry. He was so very beautiful.
How...How would he even be able to nurse Estel? His pectorals were quite…
Gilraen flushed bright red, and turned around, somewhat disappointed in herself. Not even a month a widow and she was already looking around.
She squashed down the tiny part of her that was so very glad that Arathorn had died. She… hadn’t hated him, and he had been a good man, and a good husband, but…
Gilraen exhaled heavily.
Still not a reason to just… Ogle Lord Glorfindel. He was going to act as a wet nurse to her son, so she had to get used to seeing him like this.
But this was so, so, so very weird.
She was steadfastly ignoring the part about the parental bond. She was not ready to face that yet. Possibly never.
Glorfindel shifted minutely, brows furrowing, and he tightened the hold he had on Estel, breaths growing slightly labored. Gilraen stepped closer with alarm. There was cold sweat on his temples, staining his golden, shimmering locks into a dark honey, and he looked as if he was in pain.
With a muffled cry his eyes flew open, and he visibly grit his teeth together, sitting up as if he wanted to bend in two from pain, only Estel waking up with a wail of displeasure from the sudden movement stopping him. -Ow.- he breathed out, pained. -So that is not pleasant at all.- with a grimace, he took a few deep breaths, bouncing Estel in his arms to soothe him down.
The loud wail quietened, and Gilraen snatched her son out of his hold, looking at Glorfindel in concern. -My Lord?-
-Ah.- he pressed the heel of his palm to his sternum, hissing through his teeth, eyes luminous. -So that would be my hroä’s rather fast response to Estel’s hunger.-
She blinked at him.
Well. Well she should have thought about that. It was so obvious in hindsight. Her own breasts had hurt while she was pregnant, and that was a gradual thing over a few months.
Of course he would be in pain, if his body somehow decided to cram all of that into a few hours.
A heavy feeling of shame overtook her at this. It was her fault, after all. Had she not lost her milk, he would not have to grit his teeth and stifle whimpers of pain, bent forward, luminous tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes.
Gilraen held Estel close, bouncing him up and down to calm him down, pressing a kiss to the crown of his tiny head, watching the elf struggle with something thorny she couldn’t name writhing behind her sternum. -My Lord?- she chanced, slightly horrified, and Glorfindel smiled at her weakly.
-I will be well. It is just rather...argh, Varda.- he broke off mid sentence, clutching at his chest. – Eru. Why.- he groaned, the muscles on the sides of his neck standing out starkly as he clenched his jaw. – Its rather painful.- he managed to finish his sentence. -I apologize.-
- Do not apologize, my Lord!- Gilraen exclaimed. – What for? Can it be helped in any way?-
-No idea.- Glorfindel replied, voice clipped, standing up from the bed, leaning with one hand aganist the wall heavily.
He was glowing.
Gilraen had of course noticed that before, that his eyes had been shedding their own light, but he was one from the West, of course his eyes would be glowing.
Glorfindel was glowing all over though, light coursing under his skin, sneaking along the lines of his scars like snakes of fire.
He looked… He looked like a holy thing, not a person of flesh and blood, but something else.
Gilraen with sudden, stark clarity realized just how much grace the elves were showing her and her son. Even she, of noble blood among her kin, even her son, from the line of kings, they were both but specks of dirt to this ancient, holy being.
What was he doing, suffering so for them? Why would he?
The guilt and shame raked through her like sharp claws of a wolf.
The elves were too kind to them, if this is what they would do to help them. Was it because Estel was of elf-blood? Perhaps. Perhaps because he was the last heir of Isildur left.
But to go to such lengths, debase themselves so, send her this holy warrior as a wet nurse for her son…
Gilraen felt dirty and nothing more than a peasant in the face of the grace of a king.
Glorfindel smiled dimly at her, brows furrowed in pain, and she just felt like the scum of the earth.
-I shall be fine, my lady. Do not be troubled.- he said softly. – In a few hours I should be well enough, and this little one will be hungry. I will return then, will you be all right for now?-
And what was she meant to answer to that? What? When her throat felt full of jagged shards of glass from the knowledge that all of this was only by the grace of the elves, only because of their kindness, their mercy, only because she was a horrible mother, only because she couldn’t feed her child?
Gilraen just nodded, holding Estel close, drawing what comfort she could from the warm weight of him.
-We will need to hash out the sleeping arrangements, I am fairly sure he still needs to eat at night, but that can come later.- Glorfindel sighed. – I sincerely hope my presence is not unpleasant to you, my lady. I shall take my leave now. Farewell.-
****
Glorfindel was miserable, but also extremely happy.
It was an odd mixture, to be honest.
His whole chest hurt like somebody was driving heated nails into his muscles and dragging them through the capillaries, he felt vaguely dizzy and rather over-warm, and his heart drummed in his ears awfully.
But he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all.
Estel was a small bright thing in the back of his mind and he had to keep himself forcibly from closing his eyes and falling immobile to just stare at that spark and cradle it gently, watching it settle down and dream simple dreams in fascination.
The soft material of the thinnest, most airy sleep shirt he had brushed at his nipples as he moved, and he had to take a second to breathe through the stab of pain that it brought.
He might have overestimated himself slightly.
Estel needed food, though. The faint feeling of displeased-hungry edged the spark of his spirit, even if it wasn’t urgent, for the goat milk with flour Elrond had him on at least sated the immediate need of his body.
But it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough.
Glorfindel bit his hand to keep himself from crying out at another wave of pain, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, but he kept going, carrying the last basket of his belongings to the temporary chambers he would be staying in. They had a door right to the nursery, and a chamber for Gilraen on the other side of it.
It would get better. He just needed to make it through this part, and then it would be easier.
Gilraen had been extremely gracious to bear with his whining, and with his instinctual urge to hold Estel to his skin. That had been mildly indecorous of him, to spring on her without a word of warning.
He supposed it would become more or less commonplace soon enough, with him let off his other duties in the Valley to uphold this one.
His second in command was competent enough. They would be perfectly safe.
Nobody would begrudge him for this leave, his first one of this length since… Glorfindel frowned slightly, stiffly leaning against the door to his new rooms. Since way before Celebrian had Sailed, he was pretty sure. Everybody was too happy to have a baby in the Valley, too anxious about Estel’s well being to protest his absence.
It would be just a some ten years. They would cope.
Gilraen was… Glorfindel huffed quietly. Gilraen was so very strong he went a bit weak in the knees.
Not literally. There was no person strong enough physically in this Valley to throw him to his knees.
But she was made out of steel and mithril and Glorfindel found himself hopelessly impressed by it.
She had lost her husband but a few weeks ago. She was in a foreign land, with a child so young most would hesitate to bring him out for a longer walk, let alone a week-long journey through perilous terrain.
And yet she was unbowed and proud, and kind enough to bear with what had to be elvish madness in her eyes.
Glorfindel made himself move again and start unpacking, the pain and low fever he was running annoying, but not hard to work through.
He could also see she was anxious and scared, and his heart ached to be able to soothe her. It was not his place, though. He was able to only keep Estel as happy, and safe, and warm as he could.
Well. Once this part of it was over. He grit his teeth in pain, but it was slowly becoming less and less sharp, more of an odd feeling of his nipples and pectorals, of blood rushing too-fast and of something shifting under his skin.
He could well understand the hesitation of the few fathers in the guard that had made faces at him when he announced he would be doing this. This had to be much less painful spread over a year. But somebody had to do it, and Glorfindel would never hesitate to help if he could.
And this was a joyous kind of pain.
Once everything was in its proper places, he fell into the armchair, and opened the booklet Elrond had provided him with. Hopefully there would be some drawings how to hold a baby for feeding. Glorfindel had a very nebulous idea of that.
To his luck, the Healing Halls as always had been thorough, and the diagrams were nice and clear.
He exhaled with relief. Good. This he could do.
He squinted at the description of one of the holds. Like you would hold a helmet under your arm.
What.
Oh. Oh that looks. Hm.
Glorfindel made a face. Well maybe not this particular hold.
****
Gilraen gently traced the edge of the elaborately sculpted fireplace with her fingers, marveling at the craftsmanship, Estel safely tucked in the sling on her chest, looking around with wide eyes and rather displeased.
He had to be hungry, and was rather fussy for an hour or so.
That was partly the reason why she was pacing right now. The other was that the rooms were indeed beautiful, with a nursery apart and a cradle next to the bed anyway, Lord Glorfindel living on the other side of the nursery in a mirror room to this.
She hummed softly to herself, stroking Estel’s head, looking at the heavy desk made out of some sort of dark wood, carved with little leaves at the edges, a measuring grid inlaid into the wood with a shiny metal. A desk for both a craftsman and a lord, it seemed like.
Staring in fascination at the crafty way the inkwell could be hidden and kept from toppling in the desk, Gilraen relaxed slightly.
Well. Whatever was to happen now. At least her rooms were comfortable.
The sudden knock on the door from the nursery startled her out of her thoughts, and she called; -Enter!-
Lord Glorfindel silently stepped inside, respectfully inclining his head in her direction, and Gilraen could only blink and stifle a blush.
With his hair mostly unbound, and in this thin, excellent silken shirt he was wearing, he looked like an apparition, like a lover from some raunchy tale.
-I have been checked over by Elrond, my lady.- Glorfindel said softly, smiling. -Seems Estel will get a better dinner tonight than expected.-
It was a relief to hear that. – I thank you for your help, my lord.- she said, voice slightly strangled by both the feeling of her own inadequacy and by the sight of him smiling crookedly, canines slightly pointy, the loose shirt open all the way to his stomach.
Oh. Oh this was bad.
Gilraen smiled politely, and passed him Estel, the sling easy to untie. He cradled him close like something precious, smile brightening further, and she knew full well she was done for.
The thought of sharing close quarters with this unearthly being was suddenly looking much more distressing.
She had not found even Arathorn this alluring, and this was just…
Gilraen silently sat down in one of the comfortable armchairs, Glorfindel with her son sitting on the other, and did her best to keep herself from glancing at him as he helped Estel latch onto him.
Oh this was so, so weird.
She busied her hands with straightening the folds of her skirt, exhaling heavily. Right. Right. Only two years of this.
Seeing how attached Lord Glorfindel was to her son, she had no doubts that even when her milk returned he would still want to help. It was… strangely sweet.
Oh, she hoped the sight of him like this would get mundane with time. Risking a glance at him she felt herself flush to the tips of her ears. Right now it was anything but mundane.
Glorfindel looked so genuinely happy to have Estel suckling on him, the expression on his face bright and eyes glowing, posture softening at the edges, and it made something wriggle in Gilraen’s stomach.
She was in deep, deep trouble here.
~~~~
Glorfindel and Estel by Lucifyrfallen