"I had Roswehn at the age of thirty-eight." Yohlande said. "For an Elf, this number does not mean anything, but for a human woman it's an age when there's little chance of getting pregnant... in many cases, the last."
Thranduil listened intently, his hands behind his back. In front of them, on the terrace, the green landscape of its forest extended: it was pervaded by the shadows that evening was carrying with it.
Roswehn's mother was a mild person, shy and bewildered by that world she did not know, and in which she had gone to take away the girl. To take away his rose. But he would not give in: not him, Thranduil Oropherion, despite all the understanding he could have for the noble maternal feelings of Yohlande.
Roswehn had become too important in his life, not only because she would have given birth to a little prince, towards whom the king had great expectations, but because all of her had penetrated so deeply into him that he could not do without it. With dismay, he sometimes realized that not even for his wife he had ever had similar feelings.
"Roswehn should have had two brothers, you know, she wasn't supposed to be an only child." Yohlande continued. "I lost both of them.The first, Hannes jr., was born dead. After two years, my husband and I tried again: I got pregnant with another boy, who managed to come into the world ... but he was weak. I called him Ezra, like my father: he died at the age of two, of a disease that nobody could explain ... And then ... " the woman sobbed. "... after this second grief I had given up, I had put my heart in peace, you see, I was sure I would not have lived the joy of motherhood. Instead, Roswehn arrived four years later ... I am ashamed to tell you this but ... when she was born, I could not feel affection for her, I was sure that even that little girl would not have made it, that she would leave me, sooner or later ... So her first years passed without her mother's affection. Hannes adored her and took care of her, I nursed her but ... it was as if my heart had raised a wall between me and my child. I did not want to suffer again, I do not know if you can understand. "
The woman looked into his eyes, those blue eyes that looked a bit less glacial than usual at that time.
"I understand very well, Yohlande." Thranduil said. "My son Legolas has suffered the same pain, he too has grown up without maternal affection, but unlike Roswehn, he will never know it: my wife is in another life."
Yohlande nodded. "Yes, I know you have suffered, and I know that my daughter has partly managed to heal your wounds, I can imagine why you want to keep her here ... Seeing you with her today, I had the feeling that an infinitely deep bond unites the two of you."
At that point the woman folded her hands, as if in prayer. "Roswehn is my only daughter, it was a wonderful gift from Eru to my husband and I. As she is important to us, she is to you, now I know. So, I implore you: love her, love her for real. To leave her in your realm is an immense sacrifice for us, but we are ready to face it, if we know that you both are happy, if we know that you belong to each other, and that it was destiny, or the hand of Eru himself, to lead her here. "
Thranduil felt a thrill at those words. Before being in front of the tiny, old Yohlande Monrose, he had not thought about what had happened on the other side of his forest, in the little realm of Dale, when he had asked Roswehn to live with him.
The young woman had a life in the realm of mortals. He had stolen her from her people, her race, her parents. Sure, Roswehn had chosen in full freedom to move to Eryn Galen, but the King suddenly felt something in his heart, something annoying and pungent, something like a scruple, a little remorse; a buzzing and irritating little voice like the sound of a mosquito, coming straight from his conscience and telling him: maybe you should not have. Perhaps Roswehn was not wise enough to make such decisions, perhaps he had overestimated her capacity for discernment. She was intelligent, she was educated, but she was also unexperienced. . Maybe he should have allowed her to travel in the Middle-earth, let her go through more varied adventures, before asking her to enter his world, before impregnating her, before...
(locking her in a damn cell)
He felt guilty about that thing. He had exaggerated. Crazy with jealousy, he had hurt her. And the proof was all in three scratches on her wrist, the equivalent of the black eye of that mysterious Lorna, about whom Roswehn and the other insolent woman had talked as he walked away with Yohlande. Thranduil heard everything, felt every slightest thought, every whisper.
"There's a rumor in Dale, and I'd like to talk to you about this, too." Yohlande continued. "A woman in our city claims that Roswehn is pregnant. And people swear to have seen her visit a midwife's house, a kind of witch, if you want to know ..." Yohlande said, grimacing. She hated old Babiyar. She was crazy, in her opinion.
"Forgive me if I ask you ... is it true? My daughter has not said anything to me, but even if it was, she would never confess it to me. " the woman asked.
Thranduil decided that Yohlande had to know. Something in him felt a strong tenderness for Roswehn's mother, who reminded him of his mother. A very elegant and discrete Queen, who had lived in the shadow of Oropher, and who had left Middle-earth to go to Valinor, just before her husband's death.
"Yes. We are waiting for an heir." confirmed the king. "I promised your daughter not to tell you about it, I trust in your discretion, Yohlande, I told you the truth, going against my own word."
Then, on the woman's face, a series of emotions passed: Thranduil did not know how to interpret them. Bewilderment, disbelief, confusion, joy ... but he also saw a bitter shadow. "Yes, Lord Thranduil, I'll keep the secret ... but ... tell me ... will I ever see my grandson?" she asked him.
"I think it is not the case that the future prince comes to your territory. I fear he would not be well received, because of his race, but you will be free to visit him here at any time, when and if your daughter decides to inform you of his birth. " Thranduil promised. "She will be helped by two of our women during her pregnancy, she will not face anything alone, do not worry."
Yohlande nodded and bent her head. A grandmother, I will be grandmother. Oh Roswehn.
Thranduil felt obliged to add something. "Yohlande, your grandson has a great future here, I intend to invest him with a huge power when he grows up, I should not talk to you, Roswehn knows nothing, not even my first-born knows...I'm telling you that you'll probably be the grandmother of a King."
Yohlande did not seem too impressed. "I just hope he will be loved." She murmured.
"He will surely be." the Elf answered. One of his silver rings was removed from his left hand. He gave it to Yohlande. "A small gift, a symbol of our kingdom, keep it as proof of my sincerity."
The woman accepted Thranduil's gift, and thanked him in a whisper. The King had not yet finished: "Regarding your prayer, do not have doubts about the fact that I love your daughter, I have even learned to appreciate aspects of her that a man would find unbearable ..." he added with a smile.
"Yes. I know she's stubborn, petulant and shamelessly disrespectful, sometimes: in that sense, Hannes and I educated her badly, it's undeniable... too many concessions when she was a child, but as I told you ..." it seemed like Yohlande wanted to apologize.
"No, please." Thranduil said, interrupting her gracefully. "Do not justify yourself, I understood perfectly ... Come now, your husband will be wondering what happened to you."
Both of them headed for the long staircase carved through the tree branches that led down. Yohlande observed the way the King descended the stairs: it was a triumph of aesthetic harmony and masculinity, of class and authority. She felt a sudden envy of her daughter.
"Lord Thranduil, one last prayer: she does not know about her deceased brothers, please do not say anything to her, she would feel useless pain." She implored him.
"Many things that we told each other should remain secret: I say, let's forget that this whole conversation took place, Yohlande." the King proposed, without turning.
"Agreed." she answered. "Thank you, Lord Thranduil."
🌹🌹🌹
Roswehn had accompanied her father and Edith through the central part of the kingdom. She noticed that none of them seemed particularly struck by the beauties of Eryn Galen: Hannes was worried about Yohlande, Edith continued to criticize everything she saw around her.
"There is too much darkness, there is too much moisture, there are mushrooms everywhere and you know very well that some are poisonous, I hope you don't eat them, eh ?!" She said. "I'm tired anyway, and I'm hungry: will I have to sleep in a cave or will these sprites allow us to rest in the stables, with the horses?"
"They will give you rooms, beautiful rooms, not caves, and we'll all be together soon, that is ... when mum will come ..." Roswehn answered, exasperated. She looked around. Thranduil and her mother were still engaged in conversation. The thought of what they might have said filled her with anxiety.
That evening, the four humans had dinner together. Neither Legolas nor Thranduil joined the banquet, in a sort of respectful distance. The little mortal family had gathered, they had to let them enjoy that brief moment all together.
Roswehn continued to scrutinize her mother's face, looking for a signal about what had happened with the king: a look, a half grimace, any revealing sign. But Yohlande seemed perfectly serene, as if she had reached a state of total inner peace.
Later, she accompanied her loved ones to the rooms that Thranduil had given them. Roswehn noticed that they were very spacious and tastefully decorated. Even Edith had nothing to object.
The girl went to the royal chambers after saying goodnight to her parents. There she found the king, already retired. "I thank you for everything. My parents have been welcomed as I hoped. " She told him very coldly.
"I kept my promise." he replied. He was getting ready to go to bed.
"Yes ... listen, I take my things and go to sleep in that room that I occupied when I came here the first time." She informed him.
Thranduil looked at her questioningly. "For what reason?"
"You're angry, if I remember correctly, and after what happened, I do not want to spend nights with you here anymore." Roswehn answered.
"You will sleep with me instead, as you have always done. I have to watch you over, in case you wanted to bring one of my soldiers to your room." he said.
Roswehn immediately felt a stream of wrath rise from the liver. "So vulgar of you to say something like this: be more creative, at least, if you want to insult me."
Thranduil laughed. "You see, my dear, I have decided that from now on I will no longer use unnecessary courtesies with you, you are not a queen, nor a lady: I will treat you as you like, how you treat others, with the same delightful nonchalance. And there's another news ... " he revealed to her, taking off his long tunic with a feline, yet languid movement, which Roswehn immediately caught.
"... considering the situation, I decided that nothing will happen here, at least until the birth of our son." he informed her.
"Well, you do me a favor, I was just about to tell you, I do not want to ..." she lied, blushing furiously.
"Really? I thought that it was the worst torture for you." he teased her, heading for their private pond for his evening bath, before going to bed.
She got the impression that a treacherous smile escaped from the corner of his face as he turned away. As if I did not know you, Roswehn. As if I did not know that the only idea of not being able to touch me will make you go out of your mind. You have ten months to get used to the idea, anyway. This is the second punishment for your miserable sin, for that small, impertinent desire towards our dear Lindir. My realm, my laws, that grimace meant. My bed, my rules. You will learn to resist temptation. I have taught you so many things, you only miss this one. But I will succed, dear, I will finally manage to educate you.
Roswehn did not react, even if the vision of the broad back of the elf King, who was walking away completely naked, already began to stimulate something in her intimate.
But anyway, her parents were there. Well, not right there, but they were inside the kingdom and the last thing she wanted to do was getting laid with her lover while her family slept peacefully nearby.
We will see. She thought. Your kingdom, your rules. But you will not resist. You...
Of course he will resist, the conscience told her. He has resisted two thousand years without the joys of love, what are ten insignificant months in comparison?
She decided to turn off her brain and its thousand little voices. Too much stress that day and her mind could take only a little before imploding.
After undressing, she laid down and tried to sleep, with one hand on her belly.
Goodnight Haldir. Ah, by the way: that will remain your name, dear child, and who cares if your dad will have something to say about that.
MY womb MY laws, great King.