Flann does not admit

“Come – in!” Flann’s cry of annoyance came out as something of a sob.

Osh entered, clucking his tongue rapidly as he did at chicks and kittens and small creatures in general. “What is this, pretty lady? Already you think you are too old for naptime?”

“She won’t stop crying!” Flann said crossly.

“Do you need a hand? I have two.” Osh wriggled his fingers before the baby’s face.

“No.”

Proud Flann turned her face back to the window and the rain.

She would not admit she was overwhelmed by motherhood – she who had sworn she did not need a man nor anyone else to help her. Particularly not to a man. Even if he was an elf.

“In that case,” Osh said, “I must send that young man away, and tell him not to come back at naptimes.”

“Who? What? Someone’s here? In the rain?”

Osh snorted. “This Sebastien who so does not like the funny jokes of Alred. But I think you will not like him, anyway, my darling, so I shall send him away for ever.”

“No, wait!” she gasped. “Did he say he has a letter for me? Ach, Liadan, be quiet!” she wailed over the baby’s howls.

Osh clucked again and slipped between Flann’s body and the window. “I take this pretty girl now. I am thinking she likes to be up high on Osh’s shoulder and look down on everyone. Mama is too small for this grand lady.”

Neither his hands nor his voice left her any alternative, so proud Flann could permit herself to consent, though she could not admit her relief.

Osh, however, did not lay Liadan over his shoulder, but only bounced her gently in the crook of his arm and cooed and trilled to her in his own language. The baby stopped crying and only breathed heavily now as she grew calm.

Flann had never bothered to learn more than a few words of the elves’ language. She did not know what Osh was saying to her daughter – only that it sounded sweet. She only recognized dal, dal, dal, scattered throughout: my, my, my.

So many long months had passed since Flann had laid herself back in a man’s strong arms and heard him murmuring sweet things to her: my love, my heart, my treasure…

And she never would again, never again. For an instant she hated her baby, who could lie there and listen.

“My darling?” Osh prompted after the baby had quieted and Flann still stood silent and scowling before him.

“Will you kindly watch her for me?” she asked stiffly.

“Hmm. Who will watch you? I think we shall all go down.”

Flann hesitated. She did not care to see the disagreeable young man – not alone – not at all – but she desperately wanted the letter he had promised. But who would read it to her? She trusted no one with her secret. Her lip began to tremble in despair.

“Flann?” Osh asked softly.

“Let us all go down,” she snapped and ran out onto the stairs.