Fëanorians in 600 Words or Less by eris_of_imladris

Midwife

Fëanor & Nerdanel Headcanon: Fëanor and Indis have a contentious relationship, to put it mildly, but he is willing to look past anything for Nerdanel’s sake. (In the beginning…)

A/N: Maybe it's a bit over 600 words, but who's counting xD

“Who is there?” Indis asked when she heard a knock at the door.

“Fëanáro,” the voice on the other side of the door said, but the tone did not match the one who held that name. She opened the door slowly only to find her husband’s son on the other side, a look of desperation on his face. Well, that part wasn’t unusual. He would have to be desperate to come to her.

She couldn’t remember the last time he had sought her out for any reason, and he made it no secret that her presence was a large part of why he had married young and moved out early. And yet, here he stood. “Is everything all right?” she asked. The sheer anxiousness he exuded was enough to get her nervous, enough to make her usher him towards a chair, and she worried even more when he sank into it without argument.

“I need your help,” he said, and she was caught between the satisfaction of her stepson finally acknowledging her after all these years, and concern about the problem that made him acquiesce. What was more powerful than Finwë begging, when all he seemed to care about was his father’s approval?

“What can I do?”

“You delivered four children successfully,” Fëanáro said, and her eyebrows rose. “You were healthy after each birth, and the child was healthy as well.”

“Yes,” Indis replied, unsure of what to say when it had always seemed like Fëanáro had wished ill on her and on her children, especially the boys. Especially Nolo, who spent half his childhood trailing after Fëanáro like a puppy begging for a treat it would never receive.

“I assume you employed the services of a midwife?”

“I did,” Indis replied, somewhat confused.

“I find myself in need of your midwife,” he said as his face flushed. “For Nerdanel. She – she needs – do you remember her name?”

The news was surprising considering their age, but then again, the pair had known each other for quite some time, most of that time spent at the forge where Fëanáro escaped from his own family. The first time Indis had met Nerdanel, she had been astonished at how close they seemed, but she had also wondered if he truly loved her, or if she was simply a way to get out of his life the way it was.

“There are several midwives in Tirion,” Indis said, not quite asking the question that blared clearest in her mind. Why would he ask her, of all people? Surely, there were others he could ask, others who he did not harbor such a tempestuous feeling towards.

“You had four children,” Fëanáro said more insistently. “You had four, a number nearly unheard of, and you sit before me as well today as the day we met. And Nerdanel… I need to ensure that she will be well…”

A reassurance almost popped out of Indis’ mouth before she remembered. Of course. Of course Fëanáro was asking about her midwife, looking for one thing he could control to ensure that his wife would not meet his mother’s fate.

“Nerdanel is strong,” Indis said softly. “Young and strong. She will be well.”

“The name,” Fëanáro said, more adamantly this time, a wild look in his eyes – not quite anger, but distress, a weakness he would never have shown in front of Indis, for it would mean humbling himself in front of one who he saw as an enemy.

“I can introduce you,” Indis said.

“Thank you,” Fëanáro let out a relieved sigh. “I would greatly appreciate it.”

Indis considers asking for more, or even dropping a hint that she appreciates his tone, but something stops her. He had never seen her as a mother, and she knew he never would, even for his efforts today. But if Nerdanel meant enough to him to justify coming to her for the matter, there was no reason to worry about his love for her at all.