Chapter Text
When they descended on the orc army, he did not expect to find a babe amongst the dead and dying in their enemy’s camps.
Gil-galad wished he could be sure this was the work of Sauron and not of the dwarf or elvish armies, but even the best of them cannot overcome their biggest fault.
A camp follower had brought her child and now begged for him to spare the baby in her arms with the last of her feä.
“You have my word. No harm will come to this child for as long as I live.” The Elf King promises to the dying orc woman who gives him her babe. “He will be raised alongside my own son; he will want for nothing. What is his name?”
“Balcmeg.”
Heart of Evil, a good strong name in orcish culture. After an orc who assailed Gondolin and was hewn to death by Tuor, Elrond’s grandfather.
Perhaps when he is old enough to choose his own name, one more suitable for him. Balcmeg would not grow to be a servant of Evil like his father and mother had been, he would be allowed to find his own place in the All-father’s Music away from Sauron.
Gil-galad had been named by his father Noble Fire only for time and age to prove he was more his mother’s son than anything and chose Gil-galad as a tribute to his mother, Gilher of the Falathrim.
“Well met, Balcmeg.” He holds the babe as if it were his own son, his little fire haired prince back in Lindon. He and his wife had struggled to have one child and now Eru had given them a second one to join his brother in the nursery.
His wife has become aware of this adoption through their unbreakable bond and the fear he had of her rejecting the child is quashed knowing his Lothíriel’s capacity to love was unending.
“Balcmeg Gil-galadion.” His mother smiles weekly as she passes from this world into the next. If what is said is true, then one day in Valinor Balcmeg’s mother will be reembodied into the elf Eru had intended for her to be and will be reunited with her child.
The king returns to his camp with a child most assume is a hostage.
“You cannot expect any elf woman to nurse him willingly.” Galadriel, his aunt, had been surprised by the new development. “You may be the High King, but even you cannot change hearts.”
She was the only one willing to care for the babe as he readied for his departure. His great-aunt was still weakened from her ordeal and could not travel for long, but the memories of her own child had been reawakened by this war orphan. The moment she can be excused from battle, she intends to seek out the Greenwood and see whether Oropher has had any new leads on Celeborn and Celebrian’s disappearance more than a century ago.
“I am aware, which is why I will depart for Lindon and entrust him to the one woman who will be more than willing to raise him as her own.” The battle had been lost; the survivors gathered in a place of safety until they can provide a good strategy for the next one.
Gil-galad would have preferred his wife to come to him, but he feared what the elves and dwarves here could do to the babe. It had taken many centuries for the king to let go of his hatred for the orcs, after how they defiled and tortured Finduilas he had not known he’d be capable of mercy for them until this day.
“Then give Erinti my most sincere congratulations on her new son, after a millennium without a child, the Valar have blessed her with two.” His aunt placed the babe in his makeshift basket and readied him as she did for his first battle as King of the Noldor.
The only difference now was that she was helping him wrap a sling to keep the babe safely swaddled on his chest. Erinti would meet him halfway to keep the journey from being too taxing on their new son, she intended to nurse him from her own breast as she does with Finnellach, raise them as brothers and equals in their hearts.
Even if Finnellach is his heir and Balcmeg, a foundling.
Balcmeg would be the hope for his kind. The hope that they can rise against Sauron and come back to the Valar’s light.
Balcmeg Amdirorch, Prince of the Noldor, the Orc Hope.