'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...
In the months that followed, Amarië could not help but notice Finrod smiling more than he had. Often, she caught him looking at her with a quiet pride in his eyes.
As the child grew within her, she tried to forget her fears that Morgoth was only preparing for something they would not expect, something that would once again tear their lives apart. Finrod told her not to think on it, but when the nightmares came again, after a period of eight years of peaceful sleep, she began to be afraid.
Night after night, in an irregular pattern that gradually became more frequent, the memories of the time in Morgoth's dungeons came back, haunting her of the past.
Finrod would wake to her cries and do his best to arouse her from sleep. More often than not, however, even when wide awake, she would still be reliving those days. His heart breaking from her pain, he would hold her and soothe her tears, singing softly to her of the golden days long passed in Valinor, songs that they had both written together when they were young and the life had been high and sweet within them. Eventually, she would settle down and fall asleep, her dreams undisturbed, but he would remain awake for several more hours, staring up at the stone ceiling above them, wondering what this could all mean.
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A gentle knock broke into Finrod's train of thought and he glanced up, saying, "Enter."
Galadriel slipped inside the room and closed the door behind her. "Is everything all right, brother?"
"What do you mean?" His voice was guarded.
"Amarië is growing paler by the day and you don't seem to be sleeping well either. What is going on?"
He swallowed hard, laying aside the papers in his hand. He did not answer immediately, thinking of how to respond. "She's been having those dreams again, those nightmares... After eight years, we thought it was over. That seems not to be." He sighed before continuing. "Furthermore, her dreams are more vivid than before. Even when I manage to wake her up, she is focusing and in the real world, but her eyes see only Angmar and my voice is but a distant echo in her ear." His voice broke and he looked up at his sister. "What is the meaning of this? Is Morgoth giving us but a taste for the end?"
Galadriel's face was pale and she gazed at him for several minutes before answer. "I do not know. I could not have foreseen this anymore than you. If there is a reason, if Morgoth is indeed behind all of this, I fear--I fear this is not all he has planned."
Finrod shook his head, though it seemed to be more he was trying to keep back the tears than giving her a negative response. "As have she and I both. We have been blessed with eight years of peace after all we've been through, and her expecting has been more than we could have hoped for. I think... I think that I have been foolish--taking it all for granted. Perhaps I should have been more careful."
"Careful? Brother, that is not so. I have never seen one take more faithful and tender care of his wife than you have. As of taking it for granted, I do not think that is the case. Even if you had, you could not have prevented this."
"Galadriel..." he choked back a sob and when he met her eyes, his were overflowing with tears. "If anything happens to her, happens to them both, how can I live with myself? Life was hard enough, knowing she was safe in Valinor and I was forever apart from her. But this, knowing she is gone, how can I bear it?"
"Finrod, don't start thinking of it. Unless she begins to rapidly worsen, hope for the best. Until you are faced with that choice, please, for not only my sake, but for hers and your unborn child, do not think of it."
He brushed away his tears and nodded. "Aye, you are right. I only wish I knew what will happen. I only wish I knew how this will end. Perhaps I could better prepare for the worst if so."
"Do not assume the worst. Perhaps it will all come to nothing and your child will be born healthy and strong and Amarië will be the most blessed mother in Middle-earth."
He nodded, but Galadriel knew that he still refused to not think the what-if. She herself was afraid, afraid of seeing him go through the grief if Amarië perished.
She rose and laid her hand on his shoulder before leaving.
Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it and closed her eyes. Ai, Varda. They have been through so much. Must they suffer this too?
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Finrod and Galadriel watched Amarië very closely the following weeks. By now, the swollen abdomen made it very clear of the child's continued growth inside her, but she was still pale. The dreams had become less often, but Finrod and Amarië still remained in fear of them. If they came again, what would it mean?
Finrod, as he took as best of care of her as he could, watched with growing concern the lifelessness that was becoming more apparent, the paleness and weakness that had only grown stronger. The sparkle in her eyes was dimming, and her smile came less and less often. He often saw her face contort with pain and while he knew that that was often the case with pregnant mothers, he had never seen one grow so weak before the child's birth.
Though they never spoke of it to each other, for fear it would become more and more a reality, Finrod and Amarië, his Elthríel, both were growing certain of one thing.
