Roswehn of Mirkwood

Life in Mirkwood

Roswehn woke up, as always, before the King.
She went quickly to the private lake in Thranduil's rooms and immersed herself in that marvelous limpid water that came from an underground spring. They had explained to her that the kingdom had been built near an ancient, inactive volcano, and the lava in the depths of the earth warmed the water.

The beauties of Greenwood were a source of continuous amazement for her. Everything was permeated with an aura of magic, but also with natural beauty.
She was slowly learning to love even the dim light, which in the past had been so annoying to bear.

Outside, the sun shone all day high in that month of July. The pleasant aspect of living in the woods was the cool temperature of the environment: the large branches of the trees of Eryn Galen served as a filter for both light and heat, so that its inhabitants, elves, animals and also a human woman, did not suffer the intense summer heat.

As she let the water caress her skin, Roswehn noticed that her complexion was becoming clearer: the darkness in which she lived had made her lose the slightly amber color she had before. She did not know if that new dimension would have been a good or bad thing for her health in the long run; only a month had passed since her official union with Thranduil, but, for the moment, she felt good.
The food of the Elves, in large part vegetable, had lightened and slimmed down her body shape. She had also noticed a new light in her hair, and she no longer felt the annoying headache that hit her now and then.

After getting out from the natural tank, she dressed herself with one of the many linen dresses that had been offered her for the summer.
Velvet, in that season, was definitely inappropriate.

She sat on the chair, which was very reminiscent of a throne, near the large table where there was always a basket full of grapes. Her daily breakfast.

The Elves did not drink milk, and they did not even know what tea was. They ate nothing but fresh fruit, vegetables, nuts and hazelnuts and almonds. They sometimes ate some cheese, but they avoided producing too much because of the milk. They felt sick at the idea of ​​eating eggs.

Roswehn, after being scolded in the Lorien, had not even dared to ask for meat. In that kingdom, no oxen or cows were raised, there were some wild goats, a few rabbits and in any case they were not animals that could be killed for food.
There were plenty of horses, there was a multitude of birds, many hawks and owls obviously, and then the various beasts that naturally populated the forest, and that divided the living space with the Elves. Lots of deers, fawns, and a few elks: Thranduil no longer wanted to ride one after the death of Henok, the marvelous giant-horned deer he had mounted when he had entered Dale one year before.

Roswehn loved being alone when she woke up. She could peacefully gather her thoughts in the quiet of the king's underground rooms.

The other Elves also slept. All the people of Greenwood remained in their rooms until after noon, when the community finally started its activity. The morning light in the summer was so intense that it penetrated through the branches of the trees and wounded the delicate eyes of the Elves. They were locked in their caves like mice in their dens.

Thranduil was still resting. She liked to watch the beautiful Elven King lying next to her for a few minutes before getting up, and every morning she wondered what she had done to deserve such a splendid gift from life. It was magnificent to realize every day that he was her lover.

Actually, Roswehn knew that the deepest part of the Elf's heart was reserved for his wife, and that was fair. But together they were fine, in bed as in everyday life they were a perfect match.

She watched the blue lake, relaxing as she listened to an incessant dripping.
While eating grapefruit, she also thought that her parents must have reacted very badly to her letter. Roswehn knew her father and his thoughts about the Elves: most likely, her relationship with Thranduil had made him mad. Her mother might have been more tolerant, as only mothers can be, because for her she wanted nothing more than joy. But Hannes no, he would not have accepted it at all.