Tiredness eventually overcame Kalëni, forcing her to finally fall asleep. When she woke up, the night had taken over the town. She was startled for a second, feeling, at the same time, her whole body aching for the sudden tension. However, she relaxed as she noticed the baby's presence beside the pillow. He had a little finger in his mouth, which he was sucking, and he was looking at her. She brought her face close to his, smiling.
"Good evening, little one," she murmured. His eyes were the same as his father's. At first glance, and in the dim light, they looked blue. But they were in fact a light shade of violet.
Ayalal seemed to be watching her with curiosity and, slowly, took the finger out of his mouth, holding out a small hand toward her in a somewhat vague movement. Kalëni brought her face close, letting his hand touch her, exploring her cheeks and lips. She kissed the little palm, making it withdraw a little, while the little boy gave an exclamation, perhaps in surprise.
Without getting up, she took the newborn and nestled him on her chest.
"Are babies always so quiet?" she wondered, surprised at the lack of crying. The midwife had washed the little boy, while Kalëni was asleep. Was it possible he had cried and she hadn’t noticed?
She offered to him one of her black tresses, letting him play a little. He examined it, extending his other hand to it.
"Aren’t you hungry, Ay?" she murmured, as the baby entertained himself. He did not look like it. Babies cried when they were hungry, right? The woman was not sure.
She held her breath for a moment and sat down, leaning against the headboard. Then, she tried to breastfeed him. At first, the baby drooled, trying to figure out what was happening, but slowly began to suckle.
Kalëni was staring at him, a sweet smile on her lips, when someone knocked on the door. She looked up as it pushed, and a woman, not the midwife, peered at her.
"Lady Kalëni, I am glad to see you awake and well," she said, giving her a sincere nod.
She smiled at her, still nursing the baby.
"Come to see him, Guiran," she murmured. “He's so sweet...”
The woman hesitated, before entering and closing the door behind her. She approached the bed and peered at the little baby.
"Yes, no doubt, my lady. But you can not be fond of him," she reminded her. "He will not be yours."
The happiness vanished from Kalëni's face. For a moment she had forgotten why she had traveled in secret to a city as remote as that one, in the mountains. She had forgotten why she had come in anonymity, like a criminal in disguise, three days earlier.
"He will always be mine, wherever I am," she whispered, unable to contain the tears. "He came from me, he is my son, even though he may never know.”
The baby stopped nursing and looked up, somewhat disturbed by the realization that something had changed, perhaps in the heartbeat of the mother, or in the voice that now was trembling.
"Yes, my lady," murmured Guiran. "Before dawn, I will deliver him to the orphanage of the city. We'll have to leave in the morning, and no one can know he's yours.
Kalëni was silent for a moment.
"Get out," she said in a forced tone. “Get out, Guiran”.
The woman bowed slightly, uncomfortable with all that, and hurried out. Before closing the door, a "I’m very sorry" still reached the young woman, ripping from her a sob of pain.
Ayalal let out a kind of protest and extended both of his pale arms to her, as if recognizing her pain. Kalëni embraced him and, for the little child, regained control of her emotions. Sweetly, she began singing an old lullaby in Elven. By the light of the fireplace, the melody accompanied mother and son, as the hours coursed through the night.
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