The Flame we Held (Fëanor son of Melkor AU) - Chapter 7
Relationships: Melkor/Mairon, Melkor & Fëanor, Mairon & Fëanor, Fëanor/Nerdanel
Summary: Miriel made a deal with Melkor, she'd be able to bear children but in return the dark lord asked for her firstborn. When he gets imprisoned she believes herself to be free of her promise but Melkor shall claim his prize.
TW: none
A/N: Enjoy!!
Masterlist and on Ao3
Mairon took a step forward, legions of orcs under the balcony, waiting for his words.
“Orcs of Melkor, orcs of the Dark Lord,” he enunciated “I brought all of you because yesterday some of your members thought fit to try and rise against our power. Of course I think better of you than to believe this desire to be widespread among my very own soldiers, my people,” the maiar hid a smirk “Nonetheless, these extremist decided to stand against our might and for that they were promptly executed. These are behaviours we have no tolerance for and if anyone else believes themselves strong enough to challenge us may step forwards now,”
He gloated as many shifted their feet but none was brazen enough to try.
“The traitors believed we’ve let weakness cloud our judgment, let ourselves stagnate, so I shall declare here and now where we stand now. If you believe yourselves to be above our decree then you’re free to leave and roam the cold, unforgiving wilderness of Middle-Earth. Free to leave, now an enemy to all that call Lord Melkor their master!”
“How can we be sure this is not a trap?” screamed one orc.
Mairon grinned, his red lips a terrifying image to the soldiers underneath “A quick death at our gates or a painful torture should you stay and disobey, choose now.”
Gothmog and another maiar opened the gates and the orcs stared at it, gulping, the figures of the flame spirits a horrible vision in of itself but the possibility of that being the last thing they’d see was a new fear they didn’t think they’d be able to feel after all the years living in the fortress. Mairon’s words, however, echoed in their mind, to obey and be safe or to risk death or torture.
Few took the chance in that moment, only the factions more against the lords dared to take the risk. Fortunately for the lot of them, Mairon was more interested in his internal affairs than whether a few stragglers decided to take to the road, let them struggle in the wilderness, he didn’t need them trying to hurt his family again. He smiled as they scrambled out, a triumphant grin, one last look to unsettle them.
He turned around and Sùlben quickly handed him the infant Fëanor.
“To those that remain I now proclaim,” the child laughed, amused by the theatricality of it all, not knowing what it all meant “This is our child and to him you owe your loyalty, your sword, to protect or to kill, to him your blind devotion, Fëanor son of Melkor, Prince of Angband”
The presence of Melkor behind him, in rare solemnity, bringing a measure of grandiosity to the speech, little did Mairon now care that he was crowning an elf as his son, to him Fëanor was simply that, Melkor’s son, returned to him with his husband.
A cheer erupted through the remaining crowd, for fear or loyalty it didn’t matter, he was establishing a very clear new rule, Fëanor wasn’t just under their protection any more, if any tried to hurt him they were making an enemy out of the most powerful creatures of Arda.
“Were you aware there are fifteen different clans and three different regional speech patterns among Angband loyal orcs?” Sùlben asked, making quick notes on their new journal.
Mairon rolled his eyes and gave Sùlben a very pointed look before continuing on his path towards his study “I’m not in the habit of caring for the irrelevant, little, replaceable servants.”
“Not even when this could help optimize the distribution of orcs per task now that twenty per cent of your population is gone?”
Mairon turned around fast enough to make Fëanor, who was strapped on his back, complain.
“What are you talking about?”
Sùlben smiled as a cat that had just caught the mouse, they explained “I was talking to Bragga these days and have come up with a sheet,” they turned the journal so Mairon could see the two pages of columns and rows, colour coded, full of dates, hours and names “She told me several very interesting things”
Mairon stared at them, glaring doubtful “Such as?”
“Well,” the elf’s gloating was almost palpable “Under the current structure, for, as well thought as it might be, there are several clans that absolutely hate the other and refuse to co-operate causing delays and excessive fighting not to mention the void that exist now with the Asibragu clan leaving, if we move things around, according to my plans, we can diminish the first problem and easily fill the second”
The maiar raised an eyebrow “What do you want for it?”
Sùlben bit their lip before answering “I know freedom is too much for just this but surely there are better ways that my fellow elves might be treated than slaves.”
Mairon’s orange eyes were staring at them and Sùlben feared it was enough to burn a hole in their skull, being under the maiar scrutiny was painful even with all they now knew about the lord but they forced themselves to look back no matter how pitifully.
“My son enjoys your company,” and they were the only elf Mairon knew he was able to trust with Fëanor, an incredibly rare resource he couldn’t squander, but he wouldn’t tell Sùlben that of course “Enlighten me on how do you plan such a change”
Sùlben smiled brilliantly.
“Fantastic! I have already a made second sheet just in case,” they switched a few pages “It’s all a matter of hours and correct division of labour, you’ll see, well treated people work much better!”
The two continued to walk as Sùlben explained their plans for the fortress.
Mairon watched, he’d put Fëanor down on the rug of his study after Sùlben had left, when Gothmog had arrived to make his report and the child had crawled towards the giant, the tiny hand making contact with the one belonging to the balrog, uncaring of the risk. Fëanor was not fireproof as Mairon was and Gothmog made sure to keep the flames away, creating the strange image in front of the maiar.
A tiny child playing with a giant, trying to imitate the sounds of the fire spirit.
A little voice in the back of Mairon’s mind whispered the memory of the elven woman he’d seen just once, and never wanted to think of again, still treacherously telling him Spirit of Fire, well named, indeed.
“Can’t believe you broke so easily”
Mairon rolled his eyes “Don’t you have anywhere else to patrol, I’m certain I filled your schedule for the next century”
Fëanor turned to look, following the noise. The new person was strange enough, what with their black wing dress and entirely white skin, an entirely new creature to his young life and one he could hear having a rather animated conversation with his father.
“Aww, how could I not return for you magnificent announcement,” Thuringwethil smiled sardonically “Too bad I was not told of your pregnancy, forgive me for missing it.”
Mairon rose from his chair “Don’t speak of it, are we clear?!”
“No need to burst your little flames out” she cackled and sat on the arm of the chair, turning her head to see Fëanor crawling towards her, her smile widened “I have no intention to ruin your playing happy families, it’s rather fun seeing you try your hand at the mundane”
The baby placed his hand on her wing mystified by the leathery feel, a curious little beast.
“He reminds me of old times,” she took a deep theatrical sigh, hand on her chest as if reminiscing some treasured memory “of when you arrived in Utmno, so young and curious about every little thing,” she bent down to pinch the baby’s cheek earning a surprised protest from him and a flaming glare from his father “and now look at you!” she exclaimed, hands thrown into the air “A child of your own already! Should I start calling you mummy?”
“Only if you wish to have your eyes ripped out of your head”
Thuringwethil cackled again “Watch out, mummy, your child is arriving,” she pointed with her chin.
“Mu, mu!” Fëanor repeated, his small limbs pit patting on.
Mairon blushed and Thuringwethil smiled victoriously.
The lieutenant took his child in arms and calmly corrected him “Not mummy, father, can you say father? Faa-ther.”
Fëanor tried to copy the mouth movement that Mairon was exaggerating, but the f sound was harder to get across to a child so he’d either let out a long string of as’ or simply compromise and exclaim “Ma!”
“Oh, well! I shall leave you to your little brat, good luck not losing your title now!”
She dashed towards the door but did not even have to open it for Melkor entered the room right at that moment. All it took was one look on Thuringwethil and Mairon for the dark lord himself set himself aside, he would not get caught up in their strange friendship, not after the last time when they’d burnt his eyebrows and half his hair.
Sure, that had been and easy fix at the time, but it was a matter of principles.
And it would not be an easy fix as he was now.
Mairon bristled as the bat smirked and ran away. If she wanted a fight then she’d get a war.
“Hold Fëanor,”
Mairon said and Melkor almost reminded him who was the actual ruler of Angband was but…
Eyebrows. Hair.
He quickly took the child and the three, Gothmog still in the room just enjoying the spectacle, watched Mairon shift into a bat himself and chase after the woman, screaming profanities Fëanor would not forget easily as it would turn out.
“I will never understand them” he sighed and the balrog made a sound of agreement.
“Ma!” Fëanor said then, taking Melkor’s attention.
The Vala raised an eyebrow before saying “How about Da instead?”
The child stared at him “Daaa...?” he tried out the sound in his mouth, it must have been a pleasant sound for Fëanor started kicking his feet wildly and smiling, “Daaa!” he repeated.
Melkor chuckled “Yeah, yeah, daaaa,” he placed the child onto a more comfortable position at his hip “Don’t think that just because you could charm the others I will be the same easy prey. You may have my name but you are still merely my little prize, hear it?”
For his part, Fëanor, prince of Angband, simply smiled, bouncing happily in Melkor’s arms.
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I was at a courthouse once, and saw an indigenous australian woman in a dressing gown very carefully and gingerly making her way down the steps outside the courthouse, surrounded by family who were helping her down the stairs. We asked if she was OK, because she looked awful. She looked like she should have been wrapped up in bed with blankets and hot soup, not on the steps of a courthouse.
One of her family told us that she had given birth yesterday evening, but that Child Protection services had taken her baby away with no warning, claiming that she wasnt prepared to look after him. What had happened, is that she'd literally only just given birth -- hadn't even passed the afterbirth yet, is holding her blood-coated, crying, newborn baby to her chest -- and a nurse asked what her feeding plan was. She was tired from the birth and distracted by the brand new baby in her arms and thrown off by the timing of the question, but still, she managed to answer, and said she planned to breastfeed him whenever he was hungry.
Well apparently that wasn't enough of a plan for the hospital staff, who reported her and claimed that she was unprepared to look after the child, and claimed that had no social supports, and that the baby was at risk if left with her. All because a brand new mother, 30 seconds after giving birth, didn't have a PowerPoint presentation ready to go that cited the timing cycle she would feed her kid on, and instead simply said that she would feed him when he was hungry.
Child Protection services showed up, took her kid, and she was told to show up to court the next day to contest custody if she wanted her baby back.
So a woman who had given birth less than 24 hours prior was forced to rally her family and show up to court to prove that she a) had a feeding plan for the child, and b) had enough social supports to justify reclaiming her baby.
It was one of the most appalling things I'd ever seen. I don't even know if she won her case. They didn't know at the time we saw them, and after that brief interaction on the stairs, i never saw them again. I sincerely hope she got her newborn baby back.
That was about 5 years ago. And the exact same kind of thing is still happening today.
News broke today from a South Australian whistle-blower of the appalling treatment new mothers frequently receive, including hospital staff taking the baby away from the mother "for medical tests," only for the mother to then be told, with absolutely no prior warning, that the baby was not going to be returned to her.
Here's the article, and here are some excerpts:
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