Written for the Tolkien Weekly Mother challenge. For Shelley for her birthday. Beta by RiverOtter.
His own mother had given up her personal hope for the sake of their people.
The mothers of his faithful Steward and of the Ringbearers had all died during their childhoods.
The mother of his wife had abandoned Middle Earth half a millennia past to seek healing for the wounds to body and spirit inflicted by the orcs of the Misty Mountains.
The King Elessar held his firstborn in his arms, smiling down on his wife. “You,” he whispered into a tiny, shell-like ear, “shall know your mother’s presence at least for as long as I remain alive.”
He smiled.