Sixth and Final Chapter of 'The Gift'

As previously stated, not mine, only my characters and plot.

Chapter Six: Birthday Surprises

Ah, how the years had run by me! Raising my son and minding my people, learning new languages and new ideas; it had been wonderful, exhausting, amazing.

I picked the kovalia from the bowl and found the knife, slicing carefully into its hide to reveal the lush, aromatic flesh within, savouring each slice of its tender, secret heart. 

Someone knocked on the door.  ‘Mother?  Are you awake?

‘It’s ninth hour!’ I called out.  ‘Of course I’m awake! Let me see you, then!’

The door opened and my son came in, grinning. He was tall and strong and wore his hair longer than was common, but it suited him.  The colour was unusual, too; a soft brown with golden lights and his eyes were a silvery blue.  He seemed very young to be already a parent, but my grandson was three weeks old tomorrow and a delight to me.

‘Do you like your gifts?’ he asked.  ‘Which is your favourite?’

‘So many lovely things, I do not know how to pick! Besides, my best birthday gift ever was you!’

‘Oh, you found the fruit!’ he exclaimed.  ‘Funny, I didn’t know you liked those; you never said. It was hand-delivered for you, he insisted it had to be here for you for this morning…’

‘He?’ I asked, my heart pounding, my breathing shorter than ever. ‘Who? Is he still here?’

‘Oh, one of those elves from the north who came in late last night. He said he’d like to see you, if you feel…’

‘Yes, at once! Take me to him, Landril, please…!’

‘Mother, wait… you’re not well… he’s just outside…’

I must look a mess; I was up and dressed, yes, but I hadn’t even combed my hair, and…

And there was a tap at the open door and I could see a tall and familiar and longed-for figure in the doorway.

I couldn’t get the words out to invite him in; I waved, and my son got up and went to the door.  ‘Well, Mother, I’ll leave you with your guest and come back with your breakfast in half an hour, yes?’

I leaned forward in my seat, and then he was there.

Lindir.

He came across and knelt by my chair and took me in his arms for a fragrant hug. I smelled spring meadows after rain, fresh air and joyfulness and he released me to look into my face and take my hands.  I was sure I was crying.

‘Kovalia.’

‘You haven’t changed!’ I whispered.

‘I have,’ he said, smiling.  ‘I merely look the same.’

‘Is everything well with you, Lindir?’

‘Yes, it is now,’ he said.  ‘I wanted to visit before, but I heard about your child, and I assumed there was a husband also. And you were busy with your work and, well, twenty years is nothing to an elf. It is a flicker of sunshine over the leaves, it is a brief moment between the winter snows and the spring rains. Yet I have missed you every day.’

And I him.  Except that I’d had him with me constantly, in my son’s eyes, in the shade of his hair, in his gentle, generous soul.

‘You’re ill, Kovalia,’ Lindir said.  I shook my head.

‘I’m not Kovalia,’ I said.  ‘I’m Mesri.’

‘Not to me,’ he said. ‘Although it does explain why nobody could find you afterwards. I did not dare come, lest your brother see me.’

‘King Elessar put him to work somewhere far away,’ I said.  ‘I was never able to say; I didn’t ask…’

He laid his fingertips on my lips.

‘You had nothing to do with my kidnap and when you realised, you gave me a knife and clothes and then my stupid rescuers put a knife to your throat.’ He shrugged.  ‘But that’s something we can talk about later.  You’re ill.’

‘And I’m glad you’re here now. I have… I have a year, they say. It’s the air here…’

His hands folded over mine.

‘I know a place where you can receive help. My lord is a renowned healer, and while he cannot promise you a cure, he can offer you relief from the pain and more time. Perhaps not forty or fifty years, but longer, certainly. I can feel how you’re struggling now, dear Kovalia, to breathe, I hear the pain of it. Will you come with me to Rivendell? The air is sweet and clear, not dry and harsh. These are good times to travel, your family can visit whenever they wish and you may even recover enough to make the journey back to visit them here as well, in time.  Will you come?’

It was tempting. But there were one or two things I needed to sort out before I could make a decision.

‘Let me think about it. Will you be here long?’

‘As long as you wish.’ He smiled and stroked my hand.

It was probably my best birthday ever.  We had all feared it would be my last, but now it was full of promise. Lindir was at my side through the official lunch, through the quiet of the afternoon.  He was there when my daughter-in-law brought my grandson to me, and I saw his startled joy when I brushed the baby’s hair back to reveal a tiny, pointed tip.

‘My son has my ears,’ I said.  ‘But he has your eyes.’

‘Please come back with me.’

‘I’m touched you care about me, Lindir.’

‘Care about you?’ He tested the words. We’d been using Westron, a second tongue for us both.  ‘The language is lacking; I love you, surely you know that?’

‘Is that the same as ‘le melin’?’ I asked, trying out my long-ago-learned Sindarin. He burst into delighted laughter and nodded.

‘Yes, indeed so, although ‘gi melin’ is more appropriate. Gi melin, Kovalia.’

And after that, there was nothing left to do, of course, but pack.

____________________________________

Avo                  Used here as ‘don’t!’

Le faer             An expression of thanks

Mellon-nin       My friend

Le melin          A formal way of saying ‘I love you’

Gi melin           An informal way of saying ‘I love you’

Once more, Friday is the New Monday... and here is more of 'The Gift'

As ever with this story, I only own my original characters and story line...

Chapter  Five: The High King

Time passed, messages flew between Gondor and my fiefdom, arrangements were made and the bunting was found and washed.  I discovered, much to my delight and to the surprised astonishment of my advisors, that I was with child, and I hugged the knowledge tight to myself. I missed Lindir, but I had to set that aside and get on with sorting out my people’s future security. 

Still, every time I had a lesson in Sindar, I imagined talking to him in his own language.  I practiced the variations of ‘sorry’ a thousand times.

It was six months after my birthday that the formal visit from the court of King Elessar Telcontar took place and my pregnancy was properly showing.  I was honoured, and impressed, that King Elessar himself came to officiate, rather than sending his steward, and when I asked if it would be possible for me to have a few words with the High King in private, my wish was granted immediately.

‘In private’ really meant ‘with guards at the edges of the room’, but that was to be expected.  They were out of earshot, at least.

‘I’d like to speak to you on a matter of… um…’ I began. 

The king waved me towards a chair. ‘Please, sit down,’ he began.  ‘Forgive the informality, but my wife’s expecting and I recognise the signs.  She is sure we will have a son, but I have no preference.  Is this your first child?

I nodded. While it would have been lovely to chat about pregnancy, it was an awkward topic I was attempting to bring up, and not all the long months I’d had to prepare had seemed to be at all helping. Nor had the fact that there were several elves amongst the king’s retinue, and while I recognised not of them, still, at the sight of every pointed ear and sound of elegant voice, guilt was crippling me.

King Elessar seemed to realise something was wrong.

‘Why do you not tell me what’s troubling you, Lady Mesri?’ he asked kindly.

I sighed and tried to keep my hands still on my lap. ‘Some months ago, now, there was an… an incident… and someone was injured. I know who was responsible; I have evidence, but not proof and to bring this person to justice would be impossible for me.  And the person harmed is a gentle, kind soul and would not like me to seek vengeance…’

‘How may I help, then?’

‘I think it would be a good idea if my brother Briot could be appointed special envoy somewhere.  Possibly amongst a large number of big, strong men who have been alone for a long time without any new friends? Or maybe on an island with some sheep.  No, not sheep; something that might kick him occasionally.’

‘Your brother?’

‘Yes.’

‘It was he who…?’

‘I see you know about it.  Please, your majesty, do not think I have not hungered for reparation on behalf of the one who was harmed, for I grew most fond of him, but…’

I broke off as the king waved a hand.

‘Since these events took place before our alliance, there is no blame on you, Lady Mesri.’

‘Thank you.  Briot could go back with you, if you wanted?’

‘Perhaps I will instead permit some of my company to escort him to a suitable garrison where he can be useful.  And perhaps they can leave tomorrow, whereas we will remain several more days.’

I couldn’t help a sigh of relief. Tension between Briot and myself had only increased over the previous six months, and I really only wanted to focus on growing my child and caring for my people.

‘Is there anything more?’ the king asked, but suddenly, he wasn’t the king any longer; he was the traveller outside the inn, the one who stopped the pot boy from falling.

‘Do you know someone called Lindir?  Is he well?’ I asked.

‘Lindir? Yes, I hear he is very well. I did not know you were friends…’ He sat a little straighter, suddenly, staring at my enlarged belly until it felt like an impertinence and I placed my hands protectively over my stomach and lifted my chin to stare back at him. 

‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘But are you Kovalia?’

I picked up one of the tough-skinned fruits from the display on the side table and presented it to him with a flourish.  ‘This is a kovalia,’ I said.  ‘I’m Mesri.’

He was still laughing when I closed the door after me.