Author's Note: First drabble in a long time -- yes, the Drabbles board at Parma is operational again, hurray! This one is for two prompts: the theme "birth" and Tom Bombadil's poem "Wake now my merry lads" (whence comes the title, in a twisted sense). And it's dark, and it's on the birth of Túrin Turambar. Which is pretty amazing for Vana the Elf-obsessed, actually.

Night Under Night

After the agony and the sudden gripping terror, the mindless fear that she and the child will die here together (the pain is too great, something is wrong) -- she drifts in a haze of joy and sorrow. It is over.

Morwen Eledhwen dreams worlds, falling over and over into herself; and yet she half-feels, half-knows this birth is strange. This babe is not like other infants: his eyes as she holds him in her arms are dark and old.

The raven days are coming. This she knows with the wisdom and grief of all mothers. His life will be dark.