Roswehn of Mirkwood

Birth

"You look awful, Roswehn." Yohlande told her.

It was the sixth time that she had entered the wooden realm to visit her daughter. Always alone.

Her maternal instinct had pushed her to visit the girl already in November, at the beginning of winter. Yohlande couldn't think of leaving Roswehn alone to face the whole situation.

"Please, you don't have to come so often, Mom, I'm fine. There are two women of these people and a healer to take care of me. You don't need to watch me over and then ... I don't want you to go through that wood alone. It's still dangerous, I've already told you. " Roswehn said. Both sat on the bed in the room by the waterfall.

"It is not true that you are fine. Look how pale you are ... and this noise? How can you sleep? I don't like the way they make you live." retorted Yohlande. "You should eat other things, not just vegetables ... meat, fish ... that healer can't do his job."

"I feel good. The little baby inside me is an elf, I have to eat this way. Meat, fish ... our food could poison him. Stop it, please." she complained.

She had not forgiven Thranduil for having revealed her pregnancy to her mother. Is this the meaning of the word PROMISE for you? You swore, you promised not to tell my parents about it! She had shouted angrily during a fight on the subject.

I promised not to tell your father about it, it seems to me. And anyway, I find it cruel that your family doesn't know. They are our son's grandparents. The only ones he will ever have. Thranduil had replied. You'll also better get used to the idea that I can break my own oaths if I want to.

"Your father is fine. You didn't even ask me." Yohlande murmured sadly. "You've become so cold and ... nervous. I'd like to know how your life has become happier since you came here."

"Listen. I'm glad to see you, Mom. But I spend enough time fighting with him ... I don't want to get angry at you, as well. You all don't know how I feel. I'm full of doubts, fears, anxieties about my future son. Some nights I don't sleep. Can I have a few moments of peace?" She began to whimper.

"That's fine, let's not talk about it anymore. But you don't look good. Say what you want ... but you've changed for the worse. I was sorry to see you always alone in Dale ... but at least you didn't have that look. I don't know Roswehn, I don't know. " her mother answered, getting a loud snort in return.

Yohlande rummaged in a bag. "Ah, I brought you some tea, you said the Elves don't have it. And some cheese, too. Some little sweets, Sigrid made them for you. And this." She pulled out a blue thing. "Bard's daughter told me you have to keep it, you don't have to send it back to her."

Roswehn opened it: it was the velvet dress. "She's so silly. I gave it to her. I can't wear it anymore." she answered.

"It doesn't matter. You made it by yourself, keep it as a reminder of your years with us." murmured Yohlande, arranging the dress in the elegant closet of the room. "There is one thing to say about the elves: their craftsmanship is beautiful." the woman added, looking at the cabinet doors. "I'd like to have similar furniture at home."

"I'll tell some soldiers to bring you a wardrobe, I'll ask Thranduil the favor." Roswehn said, smelling the tea bags.

"Does he allow you to make these requests, even though you are not his wife?" Yohlande was surprised. "You must be proud of it."

"Here we go again. Why always this sarcasm? Would you have preferred that I got married to a ... a ... blacksmith or a farmer from Dale? Maybe a drunkard like Tom Pittipack?" the girl immediately got nervous.

"Oh my, stop being so touchy! It was a statement, mine, not a question. Thranduil treats you with respect, I wanted to say. And then, there is no disgrace in being a blacksmith's or farmer's wife. Since when do you have such classist ideas? " Yohlande answered. She understood the hormonal changes, but her daughter was becoming more aggressive than a lynx. Poor Thranduil, she thought.