'Elthríel listened with rapt attention as Finrod, laying on his back and staring at the clear sky above him, spoke about the beauty of the Trees of Valinor. He rarely spoke to her now, not that he had ever made a habit to talk with her, but this was...
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That afternoon, Amarië walked alone in a courtyard garden, the lazy summer sunlight shining in through shafts cut into the rock of the caves of Nargothrond. Though she had promised Lady Galadriel to speak to Finrod, she was deliberating on how to go about it. And at the same time, she was not sure whether she would have a chance to tell him that day anyway. She had not seen him since last night and it was nearly time for the evening meal.
At last, turning to go to her room to change, she caught sight of her husband coming towards her.
"Amarië." He greeted her with a kiss on her forehead.
"Finrod," she responded.
"Is something wrong?" he immediately returned, concern etched on his face. "You seem quite nervous. Are you afraid I am displease with you because you did not tell me that you sent a letter to my sister?"
"Nay, it is not that."
"Good, because I am not displeased." When she did not respond, he asked, "Tell me, what troubles you?"
"'Tis nothing bad, I simply do not know how to tell you." She forced out, her words rushing one after another.
"Tell me, I will understand you regardless of how incoherent the words may sound in your ears."
She nodded and swallowed. "Finrod, remember when I first told you indepth about the days in Morgoth's dungeons, the day when you knew who I truly was?"
"Of course."
"You remember, when you asked me if I still loved you and would wish to wed you, that I told you that--that I could not bear children because of whatever Morgoth poisoned me with."
"Aye, I remember." His voice was grave and she hesitated before continuing.
"I know that I have, perhaps, grieved you in that regard--"
Finrod interrupted her. "You cannot say that. I love you despite that loss. Yes, it is indeed terrible, but it is not the end of the world. Being with you again, especially with all that we have both gone through, is enough. I am selfish to imagine I need more."
"Oh Finrod!" Her words were scarce louder than a whisper and tears began to trickle down her face.
"Amarië, what is it?" He returned just as softly as he embraced her tightly.
"Finrod, I..." her voice faltered and she inhaled sharply before continuing. "I am with child." She felt his body freeze momentarily.
"What?" he managed to get out at last. "How is this even possible?" He stepped away from her and stared at her.
"I don't know." She reached up and rubbed away the traces of tears on her face. "I thought I was only imagining it--and perhaps I am. Perhaps Morgoth is only playing with us, like a cat with a mouse, before striking the final blow."
"And if that is not so, if this is for real?" He looked up at her, a strange expression on his face.
A laugh that sounded more like a gasping sob than anything else escaped from her lips. "Then mayhaps the Vala have not forgotten us after all."
Finrod stepped closer to her and brushed a loose strand of wispy dark hair from her face. "Mayhaps they have not," he whispered, before kissing her. Then he fell to his knees, wrapped his arms around her and broke into tears.
Amarië cradled his head in her arms, burying her fingers in his thick golden hair.
At last, he pulled back and rose to his feet, wiping away the tears, his face scarlet. "Why did you not tell me before?"
"I was afraid it was an illusion and I did not want to disappoint you. If it all came to nothing, I did not want you to be disappointed."
"And for you to carry the pain alone? Amarië, that is not how we are."
"Your sister told me that you deserved to know." She said after a pause.
"And she was right. I am your husband, Amarië, and I love you. Whether it all comes to nothing or not, you should never keep anything from me. Too long we have been estranged and forced to hide the pain from others. I do not wish to do that again."
"Nor do I," she added a moment later. She looked up at him.
"Do you promise to not keep anything from me in the future?"
"Aye, I do, Finrod."
He smiled. "Amarië, how long have you known... This."
"A month, maybe longer."
Finrod embraced her tightly. "Take care of yourself, my starlight. El melin."
"El melin, hîr vuin."
He kissed her once more before they departed to change for the evening meal.
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That evening, as they all were entering the song hall, Galadriel came to Amarië and tapped her gently on her shoulder.
"Did you tell him?"
"Aye, I did," she smiled in the dim torchlight.
"Good."
"He said you were right--about us needing to share all things, even ones we are afraid of speaking about."
Galadriel laughed, a silvery laugh that rang in the air. "Dear Finrod, he would say that. Even in Valinor, it was the same."
Then Amarië's smile faded.
"What is it?" the other asked, concerned.
"Just a thought that crossed my mind." She shook her head. "Perhaps it is nothing."
"Tell me--or better yet, tell Finrod, when you have a chance. As you said, perhaps it is nothing. Perhaps it is."
Amarië nodded and then went to sit down next to Finrod as the singing began that evening.
"What is it?" he whispered to her through the melodic lines of the harp being played by an ellon.
"Something came to mind when I was speaking with your sister. 'Tis probably nothing."
"Tell me."
She hesitated for several minutes. When she did speak, her voice was so quiet Finrod had to strain to hear it, and even then, he was not sure what exactly she said.
"What if this is but a herald of the end?"
I'm so awful.
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