The Foundling Prince by chrissystriped

Chapter One

Read Chapter One

Fingon blew into the hollow of his hands to warm them. It was an icy day in Himring and the wind from the north pierced him to the core despite the warm cloak he was wearing – a gift from Maedhros, made of the black fur of wolves. Maedhros smiled at him.

“We can ride back, if you are cold”, he said.

Fingon shook his head, smiling back.

“I like to be out here with you and it’s a nice day.”

The sun was shining and the snow that lay between the leafless trees glittered.

“That it is”, Maedhros answered. “Even Himring has its nice days. Particularly when you are here to share them with me.”

Fingon laughed and wanted to answer something in regard to Maedhros’s charm when he heard a sound. He reined in his horse and laid a finger on his lips, waiting with baited breath. There it was again. A soft, little sound, like a whimper. He shared a look with Maedhros, who nodded. He’d heard it, too. Fingon laid an arrow on his bowstring before he steered his horse in the direction of the sound – it might be a trap, after all.

He didn’t have to ride far to find the source of the whimpering. The orc was dead, he sat at the base of a tree, staring at him with open, glazed eyes, but there was something moving under his cloak...

Fingon dismounted and pushed the heavy fur back to find an infant, the source of the whimpering, swaddled in a woollen blanket. Its face had a blue hue and he lifted it gently to his chest for warmth. It’s ears were pointed.

“An elf-child”, Fingon said to Maedhros, who’d dismounted, too. “What is a lone orc doing here, in the middle of the woods and so close to your castle, with the child of an elf?”

There was a strange look on Maedhros’s face as he knelt down beside the corpse and pushed the cloak aside.

“He’s not wearing armour”, Fingon said surprised and stared at his cousin, who’d started to unlace the orc’s shirt. “What are you doing?”

“I think...” Maedhros sighed and moved a little aside to show Fingon the breast, heavy with milk, he’d laid bare.

“A woman!”, Fingon exclaimed.

“Yes, and I think the child you’re holding is hers.”

Fingon tensed and looked down at the infant in his arms.

“But it doesn’t look like an orc", he said puzzled. He heard Maedhros’s knees crack when he stood up.

“No, and that’s probably why we found them like this. Let’s ride back, that child needs warmth and food.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

It was barely moving in his arms, its whimpers weak and nothing like the angry screams he remembered from his own siblings. It was close to death. Fingon looked at the orc-woman’s cloak.

“Do you think... can we take the cloak to warm the child? Surely she’d want that?”

Maedhros nodded and helped him to free the cloak and wrap the child in it until it looked like a huge bundle of fur, no one would have expected to find a child buried inside it. Fingon mounted awkwardly and they hurried to ride back.

“Once we’ve found someone who can feed the little one, I want to ride back. We can’t burry her in this weather, with the ground frozen, but we can burn her – we shouldn’t leave her for the scavengers.”

Maedhros had a look on his face that told Fingon there was no arguing with him, so he just nodded.

“You said, the reason she came here, was how the child looks”, he said carefully. “Why?”

Maedhros blew out a deep breath. “All orcs are descended from elves, if they weren’t ones themselves.” Fingon shuddered, the thought repulsed him, but it also made him feel pity for those who’d been subjected to such agony. “And sometimes there are children that prove that. They are either brought up to be slaves or... not.” Maedhros eyes were haunted and Fingon knew there were nightmares coming today. “I think she ran. She must have been less afraid of us than of what would happen to her child in Angband. And that cloak is not standard issue, someone in a higher position must have helped her.”

“So this is not an elf-child, after all.” Fingon looked down on the little face again and felt only gentleness for it. “What are we going to do with it?”

“But it is”, Maedhros said gently. “It is an elf. And we’ll find someone to raise and love it. No one ever needs to know how we found it.”

“You don’t hate it for where it came from?”, Fingon asked and Maedhros shook his head.

“It’s just a child. It never did anything wrong. And it won’t turn on us.”

“I believe you.” Fingon had seen often enough how Maedhros looked escapees from Angband sternly in the eyes before admitting them to the castle – or putting them to death. He knew his cousin could see if there was darkness in the hearts of others.

 

They’d found a young mother among Maedhros’s people who’d agreed to suckle the child and when they visited him – the infant had turned out to be a boy – he lay sleeping in the crib beside the two months old son of his nurse. Fingon stroked his cheek gently, the boy looked much better now that he was warm and fed.

He felt tired, too. They’d given him into save hands only to turn around and burn the mother’s body. He’d said a quiet prayer for the woman and hoped, her fea had stayed around long enough to see her son be saved. He would make sure he would grow up happy. Maedhros bumped his elbow into his shoulder.

“You’re cooking something up. I can see it.”

Fingon had only held the boy for a short time riding back, but already his heart ached at the thought of having to give him up.

“I just... You said, we’ll find someone to raise and love him, but why shouldn’t I do that myself? Father and his councillors badger me to marry and produce an heir.” Fingon made a disgusted sound in his throat. “They’ll be happy, if I come home with one.”

“Only problem is that you can’t produce I mother”, Maedhros answered.

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Do you really want to raise him as your own?”, Maedhros asked surprised.

“I do”, Fingon answered, surprised himself. He had never imagined that he could feel so much love for a child not of his family. But the poor thing had no home and his mother was dead. He would be his family.

“Ereinion”, he whispered. “That’s what I’ll call you.”

Maedhros huffed in amusement. “Isn’t that a little pompous?”

“He’ll need all the legitimisation he can get”, Fingon said firmly. “Ereinion it is.”

“What do you intend to tell your father?”

Fingon bit his lip. “On second thought: Nothing. If we keep silent, rumours are going to get wild, but they won’t think of the truth! They’ll think I’m the father and that I don’t want the mother to be known because she’s below me. Let them think that. It’s probably the best option. Do you think, Andevea and her husband would be ready to accompany me back to Hithlum?”

“Oh, so you intend to seduce my people away from me!” Maedhros’s wiggled his eyebrows and fondly kissed his temple. “We’ll see. I hope you don’t intend to cut your visit short now that you are a father.”

“Not in the least. And you’ll be ‘Uncle Russo’ to him.”

“Yes?” Maedhros had such a look of surprised happiness on his face, that Fingon had to laugh. “Of course! I won’t stop visiting you and I’ll take him along. He’ll be as fond of you as I am.”

They both looked down on the sleeping boy again, Fingon leaned against Maedhros who laid an arm around him.

“I think, that’s what her mother hoped for, when she ran away from Angband”, Maedhros said softly. “That her child would be able to grow up free and loved.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever say that of an orc, but I’m sorry that she died”, Fingon answered.

He wanted to know more about this woman who’d gotten herself in peril and given her life to bring her child to a better place. It would be years until he had to think about telling little Ereinion who his mother had been, but he already wondered, if and how he might do that. He stroked the fur of the cloak that hung over a corner of the crib. He would at least make sure that Ereinion would now this had belonged to her.

Chapter Two

Kashnai's newborn child doesn't look like it should. She decides to run to save his life.

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Set chronologically before Chapter One, but I think it works better this way around.

Read Chapter Two

Kashnai saw in the eyes of her friend that something was wrong with the child. She struggled to sit up, ignoring the pain in her lower body.

“Rozba, give me my child”, she said and reached her arms out.

The little one was crying, whatever else was wrong, it had strong lungs. Her friend looked at her with worried eyes.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You wouldn’t want to get attached.”

Kashnai felt her heart clench.

“Rozba! What’s wrong?”

Rozba sighed and turned around so Kashnai could see the child.

“He’s an elf”, she said.

“No”, Kashnai whispered, not wanting to believe it.

She saw the pale skin of the boy and knew that Rozba was right. She’d lose him as soon as someone came to examine him, but until then...

“Give him to me”, she told Rozba firmly, her voice brooking no argument.

He was her son and she would nurse him. She would keep him for as long as they let her. Rozba sighed and laid the crying boy into her arms. Kashnai led him to her breast and leaned back as the crying ceased and the boy started to drink.

“Please, don’t tell anyone”, she said to her friend. “He’ll be taken from me soon enough.”

She gently stroked the boy’s pale head. Rozba nodded.

“You know, I should report it, but fine... I’ll keep my mouth shut.” She made to leave the room but then hesitated. “You don’t want to give him up.”

“Of course not.” Kashnai looked tenderly at him. “I carried him for nine months, I felt him move inside me. I love him no less for his light skin and blue eyes.”

She wondered how it had happened. They Higher Ups took great care to pair them with men who’d give them babies with desirable qualities.

“I... know of someone who might be willing to help. You’d have to leave Angband, if you want to keep the child, of course.”

Kashnai shuddered.

“Where would I go?”, she whispered.

Maybe east, to the humans who paid tribute to the King, but of what she’d heard about it, that was a long way off.

“I don’t know...” Rozba shrugged. “But you’d have to make your mind up quickly. I have to send a notice that you’ve given birth and then they’ll soon come to look at the child. Should I talk to him?”

Kashnai closed his eyes and nodded quickly.

“I’ll dare it, if he can help me.”

She was afraid of the unknown world outside, but she wanted her child to have a life. If she stayed, he’d be killed or made a slave and she didn’t know what would be worse.

 

It was sleeping time, the hallways empty of people as Kashnai followed Rozba, her boy bound to her chest with a scarf. He was sleeping and she hoped it would stay that way. If he started to cry, someone might notice that they had no business walking around. Walking was painful, every step reminding her that she’d given birth only a few hours ago, she was still bleeding.

Rozba led her to the barracks, to a single room of an officer and knocked softly before quickly slipping in, Kashnai followed her. She barely stopped herself from flinching back. The orc who waited for them in the flickering light of a fire was huge. He stood more than a head taller than her and his muscles intimidated her.

“So you want to run away with your child?”, he rumbled and Kashnai nodded, looking him straight in the eyes. She wouldn’t show weakness to him. She wouldn’t let him think that she didn’t deserve his help. “You know that this is dangerous? You know that it could cost your life?”

“Yes”, she said firmly. “But I won’t let my child be taken away from me, if I can help it.”

He gave her a smile that reached his eyes and Kashnai felt herself relax, he looked nice.

“I will help you to get out. There’s a postern used by raiding parties. Tonight it is guarded by some of my people who will look the other way. You’ll have to go south and put yourself at the mercy of the elves.”

Kashnai shuddered with fear.

“I thought maybe east to the humans...”

“No, that’s much too far and beyond a mountain range. Go south, to the place called Himring. I’ll be honest. I’m not sure what they’ll do with you. But the slaves speak of the Lord of Himring as someone who gives runaway slaves a chance, even if they don’t look much like elves anymore. At the least your child will be save there.”

Kashnai gulped but when she looked down on the sleeping face of her son, she knew she’d dare it for his sake. His life was more important to her than her own.

“I’ll do it”, she said.

“Good.” He led her to a table where a map was spread out. “You’ll come out here”, he pointed to a mark in the walls of Angband. “Go south and east, you’ll soon see the highland rise up in the distance, it’s heavily forested. The fortress of Himring is on a hill at the south-eastern corner of them. It stands exposed, you’ll be able to see it from afar. Do you have food and water?”

Kashnai nodded and motioned at the backpack she’d put down beside her. Rozba had come back with it stuffed full with dried meat, hard cheese and biscuits and a bottle of water. It was heavy but Kashnai had figured that she’d need it.

“Good.” The orc nodded appreciatively. “You’ll be on the road for at least two weeks, possibly more. It’s winter outside. I didn’t have much time to organise anything, but you can have my snow shoes and my cloak.”

He laid the fur cloak around her and Kashnai almost buckled under the weight, but it was warm and that was the most important.

“Did you ever walk with snow shoes?”

Kashnai nodded.

“I’ve been Outside in the snow before.” She bound the snow shoes to her backpack and slung it over her shoulders. “Let’s go.”

The orc smiled at her again.

“I want you to know that I think you very brave and that what you are doing is a good thing.”

Kashnai smiled back. She’d known a lot of male orcs who only thought of women as a thing to fuck, but this one seemed different.

“Thank you”, she told him. “I know you are putting yourself into danger, too.”

He shrugged it off.

“Don’t worry about me.”

 

Kashnai stumbled through the deep snow between the trees. At first the backpack had been encumbering and heavy, but now she wished it weren’t so light and held still some food. She hadn’t eaten in days, her last meal a rabbit that she’d stolen from a fox and eaten raw. She didn’t know how long she was already on the road, much more than the two weeks her helper had estimated. It had been hard to orient herself in the open, on a plain that seemed to consist entirely of snow and ash.

Kashnai shivered and pulled the cloak tighter around herself and her son. It was so cold, the wind bit into her cheeks and fingers, but her son was warm inside the cave of fur and the warmth her body was giving off. She fell to her knees again, her trousers were already soaked, but this time she couldn’t muster up the strength to stand up again.

She crawled to a tree and leaned against it, trying to catch her breath. She was so tired, she needed to rest for a moment, before she’d move on. The fortress had to be somewhere around here although she could no longer see it. Soon she would meet the elves her son would grow up among.

Kashnai closed her eyes and lifted her hand to her sons back, stroking him slowly. Rest, just for a moment, she’d get up soon. She had stopped shivering, she didn’t feel cold anymore...

 

There was a terrible Pull on her, dragging her back North and she’d crossed half the distance – a distance it had taken her days to go on foot – before she was aware of it.

‘No!’, she thought. She couldn’t leave her child!

She struggled against the bonds that tried to separate her from the being she loved most in the world. It hurt to go against it. She knew the Power that exerted the Pull considered her his possession, fighting him felt like thorns tearing through her soul. She screamed soundlessly, but she could feel her son now, he was like a Light and that gave her the strength to tear herself free. He needed her, she would not leave him!

The Light flickered and she knew that her son was weak, close to dying.

‘No’, she whispered again, wrapping her soul around him – she was already dead, she realised. It didn’t frighten her, not now when her son was in danger.

The Pull had receded a little, it was not gone, but she could withstand it for the moment.

She whispered sweet nothings to her son - how much she loved him, that he needed to be brave now, that she would be with him - and hoped. She couldn't have been far from the fortress when she’d fallen. The elves must have patrols!

‘Just a little longer’, she told her son. ‘Be brave just a little longer. Mummy loves you. Please, you need to hold on.’

She didn’t know how much time had passed – time had no meaning in the state she was in – when she finally felt other souls close to her. She sobbed with relief.

There were two of them. One glowing golden and bright, full of power, and another one, his light a little more subdued, scared by torture and shackled by something she did not understand. She was a little scared of them both, for different reasons, but she could see that they meant her son no harm, the first one flared up with Love when he lifted her son up.

‘Look after my boy’, she whispered, not sure if they could hear her.

She felt weak, the Power’s Pull tearing at her soul, she knew she couldn’t stand against it much longer. Just when she thought, she’d have to give in to it, she became aware of another Voice calling her. It came from the West – that mythical place she’d heard whispers of. Whispers both good and bad. Now she felt afraid, caught between two Powers that wanted to possess her.

‘I don’t want to posses you, child’, the new Voice said gently. ‘Let me save you. Turn away from the pain.’

‘I want to be with my son’, she sobbed.

‘I know’, the Voice answered. ‘But you could not withstand the Dark One’s call for much longer, and you know it.’

‘Yes’, she whispered.

‘Come to me’, the Voice continued. ‘There is healing for you. Long, slow healing, but healing nonetheless.’

‘You won’t hurt me?’

‘I won’t.’

‘Will I ever see my son again?’

‘Maybe.’

She sighed, maybe was better than never. She reached out for the Voice and felt the pain of the Power’s Pull leave her as she was carried away.

‘Who are you?’, she dared to ask.

‘I am Namo’, the Voice answered. ‘But most often I am called Mandos, after my Halls. You are save now, child.’

She let him lay her down in warm, comfortable darkness. Her son was save. And she felt save, too.