When she came to the forest the next day, she was met by the elf.
"There – I have gathered that for you", he said plainly.
She stared incredulously at the heap of firewood he was pointing at. It was more than she could gather on one whole day. Maybe...maybe the elf was serious after all. The wood looked real enough, and he wouldn't have worked so long for nothing...would he?
"Now...will you tell me why you are sad?"
Oh that damned, innocent voice of his – it was too easy to forget what a spiteful creature he was. If only one of her baby boys had lived, then maybe she would be able to resist his tilted head and big eyes...maybe she would be used to it. But she was not.
"Well...I have time now", she admitted, and sat down on a tree stump. "If you really want to know...I have been stupid. When I was a maiden, I married for love. The man was no good, treated me like his servant, or worse."
She fell silent when she remembered a day long gone, the day of her daughter's birth.
"Is it alive?"
The baby's screaming answered her question.
„A girl", stated the midwife and handed the child to her. "Girls are tough. But I don't think you'll ever have a son."
The girl stopped screaming and looked at her with big brown eyes, clutching her thumb with a tiny fist.
With a loud creak the door opened.
"Is it a boy?"
"No". The young mother looked at the child in her arms, then at her husband. "She lives, that's better. And if you ever lay a finger on her, then, I swear, I'll kill you."
"However... a lovely child he made me", she continued. „A little girl. Such a lovely child…" Her eyes welled up with tears.
" Is that not a good thing?"
"It was...it surely was, but...the little one...died. Three years old she was. It...it was a bad cold that killed her. Yes. A bad cold." She wiped her face with her sleeve. "The man died, too. He...well...drank himself to death, shortly after."
Again she fell silent. The elf waited patiently.
„Well, after that I was smarter. Not smart enough to stay single, but this time, I married for money. Or so I thought. He had already gambled away the money I thought he had inherited. A gambler he was, my second husband, and he gambled away what little money I had saved as well. He never beat me, though. Decent enough he was. It's just a pity that he never cared to father a child...at least not that I know of, that is...but anyhow, he's long dead, too, and now I'm an old crone and no one will remember me when I'm dead." She reached for her walking stick and draw herself to her feet. "So, now you know why I am sad. That's life...it's crappy, and then you die, anyway...well, not you, of course." She chuckled mirthlessly. "No, not you. But me."
„That's not true!"
„Not for you, obviously. For me, it is. So, and now I need to gather some firewood, it's late..."
"You mean, that's not enough?" He pointed at the heap of firewood she had all forgotten about.
"And that's really...for me? A present?"
"Of course it is. I said so, didn't I?"
How innocent they could sound, the shrewd bastards...but...what if he was honest after all?
"Well, now...maybe it is better if you carry it for me." That meant he would find out where she lived...but if he wanted to know, he'd find out anyway.
It was a strange feeling, to be back home so early, while the sun was still shining.
"Here it is? That is a very ugly house." The elf carefully placed the firewood on the stack beside the wall.
Obviously, he had no manners at all. He was right, though. It sure was not pretty, the little hut. The drunkard had never repaired it, on account of being too drunk, and the gambler had never been at home anyway...of course she herself had tried to do something, now and then, but there was much to do inside the house, so she had never really gotten around to do more than what was most necessary on the outside.
„Well, now, I would prefer a prettier one, too, but what can I do?" Of course she could move in with her brother and be treated like a servant by her sister-in-law...but she was fed up with that. When she had to work all day, anyway, she could just as well do it for herself. It wouldn't be for long anyway.
"What do you do all day?"
"Well, now, I don't have to gather firewood anymore, so I guess I'll clean the house." It was about time that she got around to that, the whole house was covered with dirt. Except the kitchen, of course...she could not afford to not keep the kitchen clean, could not afford to throw away food that had fallen out of her shaky old hands on a dirty floor. "That...the firewood...that was...kind of you" she finally brought herself to say. It was probably just a joke, one of those strange elvish jests she didn't understand. She wondered whether he would laugh about it someday, and whether she would cry when he did.
He smiled. "It was intended to be. Do you want me to go away?"
„Would be better."
„Until tomorrow, then." He didn't even seem disappointed of having been sent away in this manner when he walked away.
Elves.
They sure were strange.
She managed to clean the whole house, almost at least. And it was so comfortable to sit in a clean parlour, spinning wool by the light of a little tallow candle, even though it made her old hands ache. It certainly was better than gathering wood all day.
In the following night she woke, long before dawn. There was a noise in the attic. Probably just mice, or rats. She would have to set some traps.
Wasn't it a bit loud for rats, though? It sounded as if something had fallen over...burglars? She didn't own anything worth stealing. Not in the attic, anyway. What little money she owned was under her mattress. And the scarce supply of food for the winter was in the cellar...but nobody would steal that. Turnips and parsnips, nothing fancy.
No, there was no reason to fear burglars. If they murdered her in her sleep, well, she would be dead a little sooner. Nothing to worry about.
She rolled over, determined to get back to sleep immediately. It took her a while.