The Forbidden Child

Imprisoned Again

He did not keep track of the time that passed. There was no way for him to. Days. Weeks. All he knew was that it was an agonizingly long time until he got there. Lessien was slipping away. It broke Estel's heart to see his child so weak. 

It petrified him.

It was through sleet, rain, and snow they rode without stop. The babe had caught a terrible cold, sores scabbing under her nose and on her little cheeks. Often she would sleep for hours on end, to the point where Estel feared he was carrying a corpse. The horse he rode was in bad shape as well, exhausted from the never-ending ride through deep snow.

It was a miracle when the father and infant daughter came upon the intended destination, still alive.

The Angle, the closest thing that Estel had to home, seemed cold and distant. No little children greeted him this time, for, everything had been plunged into deep night. The harsh, blowing wind was not gracious in its greeting.

Estel dismounted his horse, still clutching his little child, his little Lessien, to his chest. He made his way to his mother's home, a humble cottage that was no more than two minutes' walk from where he was.

Upon arrival, Estel burst into Gilraen's cottage, hardly waiting to knock. 

His mother was sitting by the fire, her long silver hair pulled into a braid that fell to her waist and a shawl of knit wool wrapped around her. She seemed tired-looking. Weary. The moment she saw her son with a child in his arms, an indescribable rage spread across her expression. 

Gilraen instantly stood, crossing the room in strides that a woman of such small stature surely should not be allowed. The aging woman snatched the child out of her son's arms. "What is this?" she asked as she held the baby arm's length from her, as if she could catch a disease from her.

Estel froze, his heart stuck in his chest. He suddenly found he could not admit it. This infant was his child. He found himself blurting out everything. He explained how he had gone on with the marriage against his mother's wishes and how a child had been conceived. He told how Elrond had banished him and made him take the baby with him, in an attempt to try and preserve Arwen's reputation. 

At the end of the narrative, Gilraen seemed disgusted, if not horrified. "It mustn't be true," she gasped.

"Her name is Lessien," Estel said quietly.

"By the Valar! I do not give a damn what her name is! This child will be the end of us!" Gilraen's eyes widened as she looked upon the sleeping babe. Her head snapped to face her son. "Why did you bring her here?"

"She needs a home. I was cast out of Imladris and Eriador is the closest thing I have. It is to be Lessien's too and she shall be raised among her people."

"This was exactly what I feared would happen," Gilraen muttered as she laid the child down in her bed, pulling the blankets up around her sleeping granddaughter. "Union between elf and men is a doomed one in the first place and now we have a product of this forsaken love! This little thing, it-"

"She," corrected Estel.

"Fine. She is a curse!"

"Mother, those are just stories!" pleaded Estel, grabbing his mother's hands and earnestly looking into her eyes. "Lessien is your granddaugther. She is an installment of my power. I have a viable heir now."

"You would have an heir if Arwen produced a male. A male! But she failed to even do that. All we have here is a weak distraction. A problem to be fixed! A girl, why did she have to have a girl?" Gilraen wailed. "And don't you dare pretend to have cared about your throne. You want my help and that is all."