"Look at him."
Roswehn urged the king to approach the bed. "Isn't he beautiful?"
Thranduil slowly advanced to the edge of the oak-wood bed where the girl and their son were waiting for him. The elf king dropped a look full of tenderness on the little creature, and remained silent for a few moments. A new life, blood of his blood.
"Would you like to take him in your arms?" Roswehn asked.
"Yes. Give him to me." the sovereign nodded.
Meanwhile, Amon listened quietly in one corner of the room: his arms folded, he was leaning against one of the walls. He looked like he was waiting to see some interesting show. He was probably imagining the angry reaction of his sovereign after realizing the little anomaly of the child. Of the human child.
Half-bloods always had pointed ears, Amon knew. It was a hereditary characteristic and an unchangeable peculiarity, even when one of the two parents was a mortal. Maybe they didn't have the agility of pure elves, they had no developed senses, they had a reduced life expectancy, albeit much longer than that of humans. But the pointed ears, those must have been present in the son of an elf.
Thranduil didn't seem to notice, though. Strange, the healer thought. Perhaps he is so blinded by the love for this little creature that he has not realized that.
"Lord Thranduil, why don't you bring the little Prince next to the window, so you will watch him in the sunlight." he suggested then.
Roswehn turned to the King. "Amon thinks this is not the son of an elf. What do you say about that, Thranduil?" She asked, in a provocative tone.
The king immediately turned to look at the healer. "What are you talking about?!"
"Indeed, Your Majesty, this child has unusual characteristics for one of our race. Please forgive me if I ask you to observe him better." answered Amon. He and Roswehn stared at each other with hatred.
Morath, Nim and Yohlande were holding their breath. There was so much tension in that room that it could be cut with a knife.
Silently, the king brought the newborn, who in the meantime had stopped crying in his arms, near one of the large windows.
He looked at him with attention.
He had rosy, full lips, like Roswehn. And also the shape of the eyes could resemble those of Roswehn. But the color of his eyes, that revealed his elven race. The race of the Sindars. The irises were icy blue.
"He has my eyes, my father's eyes." Thranduil murmured. "Blue like the winter sky."
"All children are born with blue eyes," says Yohlande. "But the color can change ... I mean... for us humans it is like that."
"They are not blue. They are icy blue. And his hair is blond like Legolas' " the king answered, his eyes still fixed on the little boy's face. Of course he was his son. No doubt.
".... but ... the earlobes, Lord Thranduil. I suggest you to observe them well." said the healer.
"They are like those of men, it is true." Then the king turned to Roswehn. "You told me you met Aragorn, in the village of Bree. Did you have the impression that he got pointed ears?"
Nim and Morath frowned. That question had nothing to do with the discussion.
Roswehn said, "No ... no, I don't think so. Actually, I didn't look at him well. I only spoke to him for a few minutes. But ... he was a human boy, he had no Elf-like features"
"And yet, he also has our blood in his veins. He is distantly related to Elrond, did you know?" the king asked, his eyes still lost in his son's face. The child made a grimace that looked so much like a smile.
"Yes I know." the girl murmured. Amon, you better get ready for what we miserable humans call "defenestration", she thought.
"So, it is reasonable to assume that this peculiarity does not necessarily have to be present in a half-breed, is it Amon?" the king continued.
The healer felt a cold shiver on his back. He tried to answer: "Yes, I think we can say that. But ..."
"You see, I have the unpleasant feeling that you are trying to humiliate Roswehn in front of me. And I would be sorry if that was the case, because I always had great respect for you." Thranduil said, turning to look at him. The baby let out a gurgling sound of disapproval, as if the fact that his father had temporarily diverted his attention had irritated him.
"Yes, I agree with you, my son. I believe that in this realm there is no more space for this healer ...starting from now." announced Thranduil. "Perhaps too many centuries have passed, you have lost your art. Perhaps tomorrow you should saddle your horse, and set off for the Mithlond. Perhaps it is time for you to go to Valinor."
"But ... my lord, I have served your family with devotion and at the best of my ability. Always! I just felt it right to bring to your attention a detail that perhaps could have revealed ..." Amon answered, trembling.
"My family? This is my family now, and Roswehn is part of it. If you disrespect her, you disrespect me." retorted Thranduil. "That's all. Now, get out of the room."
Amon stood still for a moment. Incredulous. A new look from Thranduil convinced him to leave.
"Morath and Nim, you are dismissed for now. Mrs. Monrose, you can stay with Roswehn, if you wish." he said to the three women.
Mother and daughter followed Amon in silence, and Yohlande also decided to leave. "Mom, where are you going? ... help me with the baby ... I have to breastfeed him now, right?" asked Roswehn.
"Yes, let him do it by himself. Your child must learn to recognize you, it will start with the smell of your skin. Hold him in your arms now. And I think you must be left alone. I will come later." Yohlande answered, picking up the bloodstained clothes. "He's really beautiful, Roswehn. I'm so happy." She said sobbing.
Thranduil brought the baby back to his mother and looked at him curiously as he tried to attach at her breast. "Are you feeding him that way?" The king asked.
"Yes ... ouch! He just bit me!" the girl complained. Then she laughed. "Impetuous like his father."
"Do you realize that he doesn't have a name yet?" Thranduil said.
"Of course he has." Roswehn answered, leaning better against the pillows. "His name is Haldir and he is hungry."
Thranduil sighed.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore. I've decided so, alright?" the woman said, looking at the king.
"After all, it's an elven name. I think I can approve it." Thranduil told her. That woman was sacrificing her short life to stay with him, to give the realm of Greenwood an heir to the throne. Allowing her to choose the name was an acceptable concession.
"Legolas is coming. I had him called. He will be happy." said the king.
As soon as he said that, the wooden door opened. The prince entered, with a very sweet smile on his face. "Forgive me, I had gone as far as the southern border."
"Come here, quick! He wants to know you!" Roswehn urged him. Haldir turned his little face at the sound of his mother's voice, interrupting his meal.
Legolas approached. He didn't know what to say.
His brother.
He had a brother.
"He is ...he is.... perfect." he murmured, sitting next to the two.
"You know, Legolas, this little Elf could become more handsome than you when he grows up." Thranduil teased him.
"Hm. And more attractive than you, father." Legolas answered.
"This is not possible." retorted Thranduil.
"Excuse me, you have nothing to say to me? I almost died today." the girl snorted.
The prince gave her a kiss on the temple. A gesture that Roswehn interpreted as the definitive sign that a new family was born that day. The three of them, and Legolas. She felt like her life, her true life, had begun that day.
"Do not praise yourself too much. Look at the state of this room. Two silk pillows torn into pieces, an expensive thalamus all destroyed ..." Thranduil said, turning his gaze to that sort of battlefield that was the bed. "It took my wife only a few minutes to give birth to Legolas."
"Sorry, can you repeat that?" exclaimed Roswehn. But then she saw the king's smirk. He was teasing her too. The birth of the second son had filled him with unexpected playfulness.
The woman put her head on the pillow and sighed. "Please, come next to me ...here, with Legolas and Haldir." She asked him. Then she turned to father and son. "I love both of you immensely. But I will not stay with you forever, you know. You will continue with your immortal life, I'm going to Dale in several years, and I will never come back. And you must swear, now, that you won't come and look for me. Never, ever. I will allow my son to visit me, if he wishes. I do not want you to witness the winter of my life. It would be painful for me. Promise. " she asked.
Thranduil became serious. "Roswehn ..."
"Remember? We've already talked about it. It's my destiny, unfortunately, and I am ready to accept it. Promise me that you will never come to Dale." the girl repeated, holding the King's hand.
After a brief moment, when the ancient pain appeared on his beautiful face, the king nodded. "I swear."
"And you, do the same." She said to Legolas.
"Yes. I don't fully understand this request, but if you want, I swear it." confirmed the prince.
"Good ..." the woman said, feeling a lump in her throat. "... anyway, we'll talk about it again in many years. I'm here for now. Let's try to live every day to the fullest." She turned to Thranduil. "I don't want to argue with you anymore, Your Majesty."
The king smiled at her. "All right. Now, let me look at my son again."
Roswehn let the King take Haldir in his arms. The newborn seemed satiated.
Thranduil went back to the window, leaving Roswehn and Legolas free to talk to each other.
He looked at his second son. "If by any chance you'll inherit the insolent temper of your mother I will take you to the forest. I will take you there, and I'll leave you with spiders." he whispered. Haldir stuck out his tongue. An instinctive act of a newborn who was learning to swallow in those first hours of life.
It seemed a mocking grimace to Thranduil.
"Hm. That's just a good start..." the King murmured.
🌹🌹THE END🌹🌹
Thank you for reading this story!🙏🏻😉 You can find Roswehn again in my third work "The Eastern woman"