Little Green
By Faceted Mind
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AN: Inspired by the Joni Mitchell song 'Little Green', this story is about under-age pregnancy. I haven't specified the age of the people involved, as I don't know how young this might be considered 'too young' amongst elves, and there are many differing opinions on the majority of elves. Based simply on the observation that it seems rare for elves to have children before they are 2000.
AN2: This story quickly evolved into the story 'Imperfection', with some rather obvious changes. I wasn't originally going to post this, but I enjoyed writing it so I thought you might enjoy reading.
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"This is the price we pay, upon entering the times of men. Everything hurries forward before its time." Elrond's soft words echoed around the enclosed room as he paced.
"It must be expected. We forgot the words taught to us as the time passed, and the children cannot be expected to know on their own." Glorfindel replied from where he stood against one wall.
"They should not have to suffer this." Elrond began to make his way back out of the room.
"No one should. And yet someone must, to remind the others." Glorfindel replied, following him.
"That is easy for you to say, old friend. It is not your son who weeps as though his heart might break."
"Father?" Elladan stepped out of the shadows of his room from behind the elders, his cheeks red-stained with tears.
"Give him a little more time, Elladan." Elrond replied to the unspoken question. "They need a moment with her alone."
"She did not…"
"No, my son. She has passed from this world. She awaits them now in the Halls of Mandos." New tears began to trace the lines of the old.
"Was it because… because they were not meant to be together?"
"No," Elrond sighed, moving forward to embrace his son. "Simply that they were both too young. There have long been rules regarding the birth of elven children; rules I have neglected to tell you, thinking you too young. I had hoped the Valar would excuse this transgression, but they have not."
"May I see them?"
"Give them a little time, my son. I go to check on them now, when I return I will come and wait with you." Waiting for his son's nod of acceptance, Elrond moved on with Glorfindel at his shoulder.
"My sons who weep." Elrond corrected himself, automatically switching back into his previous conversation.
"Allow them their tears and accept that it will make them stronger."
"They are children! No pain should touch them at so tender an age. Damned be that wood-elf for…"
"For what, Elrond?" Glorfindel interrupted, his voice raised if only a little to emphasise that he did not like the new tack the Lord's anger was taking. "For loving your son? For being loved in return? He has suffered as much as any today, remember that." The elder elf sighed. "Besides which, he is only older by a matter of years. He is no less a child that your son, and can accept no more responsibility."
"He breaks laws in his country to be with Elrohir." Elrond paused as he passed an open window in the healer's ward, and breathed deeply as the scent of a youthful spring wavered hesitantly in. "Spring comes slowly this year."
"The crocuses will begin to open tomorrow."
"Ice still clings to the darkened places."
"This darkness will pass, the ice will melt before spring truly appears." Glorfindel moved slowly away with a bow as Celebrían stepped out of the room where the two would-be fathers still sat with their daughter and their tears. It took only a moment and husband and wife were tightly ensconced in each other's arms.
"How do they fare?" Elrond asked as he gently pulled away, wiping tears from Celebrían's cheeks.
"They are strong for each other. They will grieve together and be alright in time."
"How do you fare?" She laughed softly.
"I never remember being so young. I want to be annoyed at their irresponsibility and gather them up in my arms at the same time. This will change them, Elrond. I fear for their innocence."
"They are children no longer, they have made this choice."
"Go sit with them a while, but try not to lecture. They simply need company for now." Celebrían held the door for him, and he stepped inside on silent feet.
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Legolas sat back against the headboard of the bed with Elrohir sat between his knees, his head resting against Legolas' shoulder. The twin had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and another tucked around his lower half. A third blanket wrapped the bundle in his arms, still and quiet with blue eyes that would never gaze upon the world around her, and tiny pointed ears that would never hear the voices of her parents.
"Adar." Elrohir spoke softly, gesturing for his father to come further into the room. He did so, and took a seat where Legolas had been sat when he had left the room.
"We have named her, would you like to hear?" Elrohir's words were softly slurred, hindered by the pain-killing drugs in his system. Elrond could not bring himself to form words, resigning himself to simply nodding. "We will call her Tithen Galen." Legolas turned his head to bury it in the cloth of the blanket about Elrohir's shoulders, but too late to hide his free-flowing tears from Elrond.
"Little Green. It's perfect."
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Little Green (with slight adaptation to fit the story ;-) )
Joni Mitchell
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Born with the moon in cancer
Choose her a name she will answer to
Call her green and the winters cannot fade her
Call her green for the children who've made her
Little green, be a gypsy dancer
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Just a little green
Like the colour when the spring is born
There'll be crocuses to bring to school tomorrow
Just a little green
Like the nights when the northern lights perform
There'll be icicles and birthday clothes
And sometimes there'll be sorrow
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Child with a child pretending
Weary of lies you are sending home
So you write him a letter and say, her eyes are blue.
You're sad and you're sorry, but you're not ashamed
Little green, have a happy ending
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Just a little green
Like the colour when the spring is born
There'll be crocuses to bring to school tomorrow
Just a little green
Like the nights when the northern lights perform
There'll be icicles and birthday clothes
And sometimes there'll be sorrow