A Planned Event

Title: A Planned Event
Author: erviniae
Chapter: 1/?
Rating: R –NC-17
Pairings: Erestor/? , Implied Erestor/Ecthelion
Disclaimer: All belongs to the esteemed Tolkien. I am
Just playing with the pretty.
Beta: All mistakes are gloriously mine
Warnings: ANGST, MPREG, BLOOD
Summary: Erestor is alone wandering after the Fall of Gondolin
Author’s Notes: This is for the daily drabble. The word is planned. This
Was going to be one chapter but had turned into more do to much peer
Pressure!
EXTRA WARNING: MAJOR SQUICK WITH CHILDBIRTH DETAILS!!!
If this bothers you please do not read any further!!!

The rain pelted him, chilling him to the bone. The road they traveled quickly became muck, sinking everything into it, even the light-footed Elf trudging through it. His cloak was useless, dragging him down all the more. He had lost the company he traveled with some days ago. All were so lost in their own misery that they did not realize they left another behind in their journey. The Elf decided to follow the sea, his nostrils filled with the salty brine and rot of the swampy muck about him. Tears fell steadily from his haggard face, a face that was once striking, but now, now it was covered in grime and sorrow; the grime washed away steadily by the rain, though the sorrow could not.

Tripping for the fifth time in as many minutes, Erestor sank to his knees, head bowed, his once luxurious hair was now knotted and dragging in the mud. He raked his fingernails into the mushy earth below him and screamed. No one heard him, no man, nor beast, nor Elf, nor bird…he was alone…and utterly, completely lost.

Finally gaining the courage to stand, he pushed back up onto his feet, taking only a few sluggish steps when the pain hit. “No!” he screamed out to no one… his legs becoming soaked by more fluid, though not from rain, for this fluid was hot, slimy and running viscous in a sudden flood. His abdomen tensed, growing hard as he felt as if he were being torn in two. “No ... no ... no ... this can't be happening now,” he whimpered into his dirty hands, making streaks of mud stick to his comely face, a face now contorted in pain as he gripped his swollen abdomen... “You...you... have to wait...” he hissed as another powerful contraction hit him hard, bringing him once more to his knees.

. “Eru, help me...please...”he whispered through gritted teeth... “Just take me and the babe now....” Looking suddenly to his right he saw a small rock formation shaped in an arc, as if some ancient worship totem. Crawling on his hands and knees he made his way gingerly towards those rocks. His feet catching on the hem of his cloak making him fall hard face first into the wet mire and stink mud. Lifting his head, only for his vision to blur, he spit out the grime as he dragged himself along. Finally making it to the rock structure he leaned his back against the smooth cool stone, breathing hard as another spasm wracked his abdomen.

“Damn you Ecthelion! Damn you! He screamed out into the rain... “You...you planned all this,” he cursed between sobs and pain, thinking irrationally as those in severe pain and fear tend to do. “You took the easy way out of this, Balrog! Balrog! Ha!” He kept ranting on, only to stop so he could scream when a contraction hit him hard. Finally reaching a hand inside his leggings and feeling for that small opening in his perineum that was suddenly much wider, and what was that ...hair?” He paled, almost passing out as his surroundings suddenly went darker. He then took off his rain soaked cloak with unsteady movements and laid it across the ground. Pushing his leggings down past thighs and knees, he instinctively stayed in that position to enable gravity to help in the birthing process. His bloodied hands twisted his knotted hair into a bigger knot, to keep it out of the way. The babe was coming fast, though nearly a month early, it demanded to be born into this utter despair. The air around him filled his nostrils with the ferrous stench of blood. A desire to push overwhelmed him and as his first attempt brought on naught but pain, he turned his head and vomited into the mire. He cursed into the salty air, “I hate you Ecthelion! I hate you and your pompous ass!”

Hours crawled by as Erestor steadily became weaker, alternating from lying on his side to the position on his knees. Only whimpers came out of him now, and he was covered in sticky fluids and blood; one final intense urge to push had him screaming as flesh ripped, a small head emerging, and finally shoulders to land as a jellyfish with soft bones into his waiting hands. Instinctively he cleared out the babe's nose and throat with the swipe of his fingers, as he held that tiny male child upside down rubbing it's back. The blue babe suddenly let go a wail, his color pinking up as Erestor cried out and held the babe to his chest. Laying his son upon the cloak, he gingerly pulled at the umbilical cord and with a few more pushes expelled the placenta. Having no tools with him, Erestor then bit through the rubbery sinew of the cord, severing the lifeline the babe was nourished by all these long months. Hiccupping from crying so much, Erestor looked over this new little life that was crying frantically still ... a little fighter. He wrapped his son within his shirt and held him against his bare skin for warmth. The babe settled instantly and fell into a deep sleep.

Staring at the new elfling in his arms he saw the face of his son’s father, his shock of hair a dark brown like Ecthelion's and not Erestor's midnight locks. He had the Lord of the Fountain's nose and eyes as well, the only thing that looked like Erestor was the lips, the rosy little lips.... that was Erestor's last thought as he fell into an exhausted sleep.


TBC