"You can not bear the heat, right?"
Thranduil's voice was far.
Slowly, Roswehn raised her eyelids, and felt a caress on her forehead. The King was gently wiping the sweat from her face with a handkerchief.
"Maybe you're right, you should sleep somewhere else, in a cooler room." she heard him saying.
Her eyes finally managed to focus. She had recovered from the momentary loss of consciousness, and her lover had, in the meantime, awakened from the heavy sleep of the elves. He had seen that she had fainted, and must have thought it was because of the nocturnal heat.
"There was someone here, last night." She whispered. "Some ... demon."
Immediately she saw in her mind the black orbits of that ghost made of air and moonlight. She looked at the King. "Oh Thranduil ... it was there, right there!"
The Elf did not understand. "What, what did you see?" He was sitting on the edge of the bed.
Roswehn tried to explain. "There...in the corner ... There was something watching us last night ... It was ... a ghost ... I do not know how to call it ... He stared at us and grinned, and then he said something to me."
Thranduil was beginning to feel nervous. Not for what the girl said, which was probably the description of a nocturnal delirium, but because Roswehn seemed convinced of her words.
A ghost in his bedroom? That was something a woman on the verge of exhaustion could have said.
"It was a nightmare." he said, trying to use the most reassuring tone. "... just a nightmare." He got up and went to the spot the young woman had indicated. He looked carefully at the corner and then turned to look at her. "There's nothing here, Roswehn."
"I told you it was some sort of entity, of course it did not leave any traces behind it, but it was there!" the girl answered, agitated. "... and I also know who he was."
The King looked at her, raising his eyebrows. "Really? Then tell me: who was the mysterious visitor?"
She disn't like that tone. The tone of the males, of any race, when they were forced to deal with a hysterical and unreasonable female.
"It was Morgoth." She answered, in a hiss. "He's back to torment me, he wants our son, he came back from his hell to take our creature away from us."
At that point the King got seriously angry. It was inevitable: although he tried to use patience in his relationship with the human, he could never keep calm for more than two minutes. He loved her, but he was also terribly annoyed by her obstinacy in always wanting to be right, even on the biggest of absurdities.
"It was hot yesterday night, you fainted for the heat. What you saw was just a dream, a very bad dream, but it was unreal. Our healer told me it's normal for you mortal women to feel sick during pregnancy. A little life is growing inside of you." he tried to explain. "And please, don't mention that spirit again. Not in my Palace." he said, referring to Morgoth.
"But he was here! Do not treat me like an idiot, please." Roswehn said, standing up and raising her voice. "I'm telling you that last night I saw something in this room, something evilish, something dangerous! Something that threatened me! You must believe me!"
Thranduil liked her temper: her fierce personality was one of the reasons why he had fallen in love with her...but he was also the King, and noone in the world could raise the voice in his presence.
"Enough!" he ordered. Roswehn fell silent and sat down on the bed, intimidated. Thranduil had never been so authoritarian with her. She had heard him scolding soldiers, and even Legolas sometimes, but never her.
"Now get dressed and reach your family; stay with them, before they get lost in my realm. I still have to talk to your father."
"To my...dad?"
She had forgotten that her father had come to Greenwood just to face Thranduil. The meeting between the two, until that moment, had not yet taken place.
The Elf nodded. "It's the first time I meet a father, the father of my ... companion, I guess I should feel nervous."
"Didn't you meet your wife's family before the wedding?" she asked, a little surprised.
"No. It was not necessary. When I chose Calenduin as wife, I did not have to ask permission to anyone: her parents immediately agreed." the King explained.
Roswehn felt a pungent annoyance, as always, when Thranduil's late wife was named. She imagined his lover, who many centuries before was a young Prince like Legolas, on his wedding day. She figured him as he gently held Calenduin's hand, radiant in the most beautiful day of her life, and was united to her in marriage by King Oropher; and then, husband and wife, presenting themselves in front of the entire population of Greenwood.
Long live the prince and the princess!
And they lived happily ever after.
Well, not exactly: Calenduin would have been torn into small pieces by the Orcs a few decades later.
"Hmm, I see jealousy in your eyes, or is it just my impression?" Thranduil teased her. "Are you thinking about me and my wife?"
The girl looked at him. "No. I am thinking that I am Roswehn Monrose, an anonymous citizen of Dale; wife of no one, mother of a half-blood child, and so I will finish my days."
Thranduil returned serious. "Do not say things like that, our son will be a Prince, I've already told you that I'm going to raise him to the rank he deserves, once he's born. And as for your condition ... " he added. "... it was your fault. It was my desire to marry you...but you turned your back on destiny."
He walked to the scarlet velvet curtain. Then he turned again. "You want respect ... you are the one who disrespected me."
Roswehn sighed. She was so fed up with that story. "Lindir of Rivendell ... again? It was such a ridiculous thing, I still can not believe you might have thought ..."
"Do you know what's truly hilarious about this?" He asked. "I believe that Lindir is not even interested in women, and I even told you that."
"...are you sure?" she replied, immediately biting her tongue. She should not have said it. Too late, the King was already looking down on her. "... well, are you more informed than me on this topic?"
Roswehn preferred to be silent. She certainly could not describe that strange look in the eyes of the brown-haired advisor of Elrond, because judging from those prolonged glances, the mild elf of Rivendell did not seem so indifferent to females. Yes, maybe he had never had a woman, but he did not seem disgusted at the idea of having her.
"See why I can not marry you?" Thranduil smiled, reading in her mind. "Have at least the decency of not feigning disdain." and then he finally got out, leaving her alone with her thoughts and fears.
But last night there was something in the corner. She thought, still trembling with fear.
Of course there was. And you know what? He will come back tonight. He will come back, but this time he will not just whisper in the dark.
🌹🌹🌹
"I want to be frank with you, Lord Thranduil." Roswehn's old father said. "I did not come here with pleasure, this is not a courtesy visit, I'm here to get some answers."
Thranduil had received Hannes Monrose in the throne room, to make the human guest understand who was in charge there.
"I know what you think of me, Hannes. I imagine what your brother may have told you: you're free to believe his words, I respect family bonds...although ... Viktor Monrose is not a kinship to be proud of." he answered laconically. He looked at Hannes from above. Roswehn's father was definitely shorter than him, and consumed by old age. A marble statue in front of an old tree trunk.
"Viktor and Laketown are the past, Roswehn is the present: I want to know why you keep my daughter here." the man asked him, abruptly.
"Don't you think I love her?" Thranduil asked, in the most affected tone he had.
"No, not at all." Hannes answered dryly. "I believe you are keeping her here for some mysterious plan. I know your opinion on mortals, and they are no more flattering than mine on Elves: no one in the world will ever convince me that Thranduil, son of Oropher, can feel love for a human girl. We are nothing but rats in your eyes."
He turned to look at the great Hall, where their voices echoed. "You have enchanted my wife with your words, but you will not fool me."
Thranduil slowly walked around him, like a cat. "I'm sorry to hear similar considerations, Roswehn is important to me, more than you think." he preferred not to tell him that he had thought of marrying her. He decided to reveal half of the truth.
"I'm not allowed to marry her. But if I could ..." he began to say.
"Stop lying, damn it!" Hannes interrupted him. "Have respect for my age, at least!"
Thranduil almost could not believe what he had just heard. Who was that old man who had just used a similar tone with him? Ah, yes, he was Roswehn's father, who had attacked him with the same vehemence a few minutes earlier. Great Eru, what a family.
"I wouldn't talk about age, if I was in your place, I'm pretty sure I've been walking on this earth since the Monrose lineage was not generated yet." the King answered.
Hannes looked at him with resentment. "My wife has told you how important our daughter is to us, but I'm sure you did not fully understand her words, you can not, because there has never existed for you nothing but your throne, your power, your realm. You have inherited this selfish nature from your father: yes, I have read the history of your family, I know it better than you. King Oropher rejected the protection of Celeborn and Galadriel, didn't he? He decided to break off relations with the Lothlórien and dragged some Sindar Elves here, in Greenwood. He created a parallel community and subjugated the humble Wood Elves. " Hannes said, while Thranduil's face began to show his typical haughty grimace. That man was talking bad about Oropher in front of his son? Roswehn was seriously risking becoming an orphan.
"You are poisoned by ambition and self-centeredness ... Last year you came to Dale and you only helped us in order to get a necklace, Bard told me: the gems of Lasgalen, the priceless diamonds that Thror had hidden centuries ago. But where were you, in the previous years? In what circumstances the realm of Eryn Galen has ever offered us solidarity? During the cold winters and the torrid summers, after the floods due to rain, when the water of the lake almost submerged our houses. When we had no food, nor could we go fishing, because a sudden landslide had filled the lake with mud. Not an elf was seen in Laketown then." Hannes said, sarcastically.
Thranduil looked at him without losing his haughty composure. "I am sorry to know that you have experienced similar misfortunes, I had no idea, otherwise I would have helped you."
"How great is your presumption, if you think you can make fun of me." Hannes answered. "You did not care about us mortals at that time, and you do not care about my daughter right now, I bet ... Roswehn should come back home quickly, but she unfortunately wants to stay here, I can not drag her to Dale with me. Anyway, listen to me: I swear I'll discover your plots. I'll find out what you want from her, what you're planning to do. I know she's only a tool in your hands. You sold my wife the tale of the great king who falls in love with the little village girl ... so are women: they buy every stupid romance, but I have understood that you are using Roswehn for some weird purpose and she will sacrifice her existence if I let you do so. You have the same hypocrisy on your face that you showed to Bard , my King, when we opened the gates of the city to you, one year ago. I recognize hypocrisy, Thranduil, I can smell it a mile away. "
The king had made an unbelievable effort to keep calm during Hannes' tirade.
He wanted to remind him that two thousand of his Elves had died to defend the people of Dale.
He wanted to remind him that he had personally killed a hundred orcs, to protect those humans.
He wanted to inform him that Roswehn was honoured and respected in Greenwood, and that she was even free to criticize him and order him around. Him. The King.
Above all, Thranduil would have liked to inform Hannes that if the hypocrite son of Oropher had not entered his daughter's life, she probably would never have discovered love.
But he preferred to let it go. He understood that old man's feeling very well; he did not have a daughter, but if he had one, he would have been equally protective. Hannes was hurt and jealous as only a father in the presence of the lover of his ex-child-now-woman could be.
It was obvious that he and Roswehn were sleeping together, she had not moved to Greenwood to read books all day and chat with Nim.
Well, in the next ten months her activities would have been essentially those, but in the weeks before ... there had been fire and flames in that room protected by the scarlet curtain.
He chose dialogue and detente, a choice he had made a few times in his life. "Hannes, you are free to make your assumptions, and ... investigations ... You will find out that there is no falsehood in the relationship between Roswehn and I. We love each other, and I can only tell you this."
Hannes looked at him in silence. He could only surrender. What else could he do? Accepting those lies, for his daughter's sake. Roswehn was in love with that Elf, and until she was prey of that feeling, nobody could do a damn thing to dissuade her.
"We'll leave tomorrow, I, my wife, and Edith, without Roswehn. I'm defeated, Lord Thranduil...for the moment.
But that does not mean that I gave my daughter up." he promised.
"As you prefer. It is sad for me to know that you leave my kingdom with this state of mind, but time will fix everything, you will see." Thranduil told him coldly.
"Well, a good liar you are. I admit that you are similar to Roswehn in this. " Hannes answered.
"Your daughter will come back to Dale one day, to stay there forever, she did not tell me, but I know she will choose to rejoin her people sooner or later. I promise I won't do anything to stop her." the King said.
"I hope it happens as soon as possible. Goodbye Lord Thranduil." were the last words of Hannes Monrose.
It was a farewell.
Neither Thranduil nor Hannes could know it, but they would never meet again.