Return to Me
Title: Return to Me
Summary: After the Battle of the Five Armies, Bard comes to the realization that one of his wounds is far more serious than he initially thought. With no healer they can trust and traitors out for their blood, Bard's children are left with the task of protecting their injured father.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Pairings: Bard/Tauriel
Warnings: This is going to be an AU, since I'm focusing on the relationship between Tauriel and Bard.
Winter-Rae: Another Bard/Tauriel, I just couldn't resist. Enjoy.
Italics- Flashbacks
Chapter One: The Aftermath
It was done, it was finally over.
The battle of the five armies, the fight to reclaim Erebor; and to protect the citizens of Laketown had drawn to a tragic and bloody conclusion. Thousands lay dead or dying across the ruined city and in the valley towards the gates of the ancestral home of the dwarves. Bard could hear the wails of the wounded and the bitter cries of the families that mourned the fallen. He himself felt not only the shared grief of his people, but complete exhaustion wash over him as he searched for his own family.
"Tilda! Sigrid!" he called out, "Bain! Tauriel!"
He winced as a sharp pain, similar to that of a razor blade, ran up his left side. Had he been wounded? He couldn't recall. With his right hand he reached inside his coat and felt along his ribs, wondering if he might have broken something during the fight. It wouldn't have surprised him, seeing as though he had been running purely on adrenaline throughout the whole fight. He had heard stories of knights and soldiers fighting with arrows and blades stuck in them, none the wiser until the fight had come to an end. However he very much doubted that he had the fortitude of a warrior, he was nothing but a bargeman after all.
Once he reached the most painful area, just under his arm and between two of his ribs, an involuntary sharp intake of breath made his body shudder. He could feel the heat radiating from the wound and he hoped that it hadn't become infected. He would have to find a healer of some sort, and soon. He pulled his hand away and was dismayed to see it covered with blood.
He chanced a quick glance around to make sure no one was close by and then ducked into the nearest home. It was a rundown place and there wasn't anything that he could use to help him get a better look at the damage. The best he could do was stuff an old piece of fabric against the wound, as a makeshift bandage and hope that it would soak up the blood.
"Da!" a shrill young voice called out. Bard's head instinctively jerked towards the sound, knowing that it was his youngest calling out for him. Exiting the house, he turned down one of the more crowded streets, figuring that was where his children would be in their attempts to find him. Unfortunately, all of the people of Laketown seemed to have the same idea.
It was difficult to see over the large amount of people that had gathered there, all of them rushing about and asking after missing loved ones, or looking for resources to help the wounded. He gripped a nearby tree and pulled himself up, ignoring the twinge of pain from his side, as he tried to get a better look around the town's square.
Scanning the crowd his eyes finally settled on a she-elf with flaming red hair and he let out a sigh of relief. She was standing with his children, keeping them close to her as she too looked out over the crowd. He knew instantly that she was searching for him and he felt his anxiety wane. She was alright and his children were safe; everything would be fine.
Sigrid spotted him first and her eyes brightened at the sight, "There he is; Da!"
The rest of them followed her gaze and Tilda was the first to run to him. He met her halfway and caught her up in his arms, holding her tightly. Her arms locked around his neck, almost as if she never wanted to let him go.
"I'm here, little star," he assured her, "Everything will be fine now."
"What are we going to do?" she sobbed, "We don't have a home anymore."
Her words broke his heart, and to be honest he wasn't sure if he had an answer.
"Home is wherever our family is," Bain told her, his tone gentle, "Right, Tauriel?"
The she-elf nodded, "Your brother has wisdom beyond his years, little star, we will be safe."
Bard pulled Bain to him and Sigrid hugged him tightly, her arms winding around his waist. Bard felt so much assurance in that moment; holding his precious little ones close to him. He gazed past them and his eyes locked with hers. Tauriel, smiled at him and he could see that she was holding back from him only so he could have this moment with his children. There was concern in her eyes and he tried to assure her with his own that he was fine, but she knew him well and seemed to know that something was amiss.
"Da, I was so scared!" Tilda told him, finally allowing him to set her down, "Don't ever scare me again!"
Bard couldn't help but laugh at the look on her face, her brow was furrowed and she had placed her hands on her hips in an unamused fashion. She was actually scolding him, his little girl.
"Forgive me," he breathed, "I should never have let any of you out of my sight for a second."
"You had men to lead," Tauriel pointed out, though she too had a similar look on her face, "I suppose we must find it in our hearts to forgive you."
It was a jest of course, something that the two of them had come to do in the years they had known each other. Bard could still recall that moment with perfect clarity. The children had been young, and it had been two years after his beloved wife had passed on. He was loading up barrels on the river when out of nowhere she appeared; startling him something fierce, though he would never tell her that.
"Bargeman!"
Bard nearly jumped out of his skin when the voice sounded out behind him. With his instincts sharp and his reflexes quick he spun around with an arrow already set to his bow, ready for a fight. He had been expecting bandits or maybe some foul creature from Mirkwood, but was surprised when an amused pair of green eyes greeted him. However, he hesitated in lowering his guard, even as the elf approached him with her hands up in a gesture of surrender.
"Peace," she said, placing one hand over her heart, "I mean you no harm."
Her tone was soft, gentle even, and he couldn't help but notice how lovely she was with the sun shining down upon her. Her red hair seemed to come alive in the light, looking like fire. He lowered his weapon, now feeling annoyed that she had startled him for apparently no reason.
"What brings an elf this way?" he asked her, returning to his work, even though he couldn't help but be aware of her every movement around him. She paced over the rocks, near the dock where the barge was tied; she seemed to be looking for signs of something and was coming up empty handed. She observed him then, as if weighing if she should answer him.
"Hunting," she replied, a glint of mischief flashed across her face, along with a swift smile that he wasn't sure was even there at all. He arched an eyebrow, "Hunting? Well I'm afraid you won't find much game here, except for fish. Deer and elk roam the woods, you'd be better off there. Or don't elves know of such things."
She laughed then and the sound of it was like the ringing of bells.
"I know such things well," she replied, "But my prey is slightly more elusive."
She was baiting him, and he cursed himself to find that he was curious about what she stalked.
"Do tell."
"Spiders," she replied, her tone becoming serious, "Giant ones."
Bard felt uneasy and couldn't help but glance around them, almost as if he expected to be ambushed right then and there. She watched him and then sighed, "I fear that they are becoming bold, I knew that you would be here today to gather these barrels. I thought it best to warn you so that you might take precautions in order to protect yourself."
"You have my thanks," he said earnestly, glancing in the direction of home, he suddenly felt a terrible urge to be back there. The elf seemed to sense his change in mood as she stooped to help him in his task. Together, they finished the job in half the time, which meant that he would be home earlier than planned. Tilda would still be awake and he could see her off to bed himself.
"You have a family then?" the elf asked. He nodded, "Three children; a boy and two girls."
She smiled, "They must bring great joy to your lives; you and your wife that is."
Bard felt a tug at his heart whenever he thought of his children; of course it was always followed by a touch of grief as well. Thinking of his wife still cut deep and he looked away from the elf. She picked up on his now defensive body language and took a step back.
"I spoke out of turn," she said quickly, bowing her head, "Forgive me."
"You could not have known," he replied, a little more harshly than he would have liked. She nodded but he could tell that she still felt badly for her misspoken words. He returned to the boat and after letting loose the lines he began to drift away. He looked back briefly, only to see that the she-elf had vanished.
"Bard?"
Tauriel's voice brought him back to the present and he watched as his children moved off to start helping some of their people. Tauriel was at his side now, her finger tips brushing against his face, "You were far away, meleth nin, where did you go?"
"To the day we first met," he replied, "Do you remember."
The tips of her ears turned red and a blush ran across the bridge of her nose, "How could I forget, I spoke recklessly and thought for certain that I had earned your dislike."
He laughed and laced his fingers with hers, "Never, my sweet one."
"Are you well?" she asked, her eyes searching his, "You look pale."
"Nothing serious," he assured her, "Sleep would be welcome, but it will have to wait."
She didn't seem to like his answer. She reached up and took his face in her hands; he rested his forehead against hers and was comforted to feel her warmth against him.
"I feared for you," she confessed, "When I left with Legolas before…I should have remained; if something had happened to you or the children…"
She trailed off and Bard wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.
"You did what you judged to be best," he told her, "As you always do. Besides if the prince had gone off on his own who knows what sort of trouble he might have gotten himself into?"
His jest made her smile and he was assured that she wouldn't let her choice trouble her further, it was in the past and they were together again, that was all that mattered.
"Tauriel."
They ended their embrace and turned; speaking of Legolas, the prince was approaching them with an unreadable expression on his face. However he did not seem at all pleased with how he happened upon them. Bard wasn't proud to admit it, but he felt a flare of jealousy at seeing the elven prince. He had seen him fight during the battle and knew he was a formidable warrior, but he had also seen the way that he looked at Tauriel.
Bard knew it was foolish to feel that way as Tauriel had given her heart to him. It was something he would always be grateful for. But Legolas had known her for many years and would continue to know her long after he passed from this world. Time. That was what Legolas had with Tauriel, and it was something that he could not compete with. Yet she had chosen to be with him; a mere mortal, it was beyond his understanding.
"Has something happened?" Tauriel asked.
"They found Oakenshield, and his nephews," Legolas reported, "Alive somehow, but in need of help. Most of our healers are busy with the wounded elsewhere; Mithrandir has requested that I fetch you in hopes that you might help. He says it is imperative that the line of Durin survive."
Tauriel nodded and looked back to Bard, "I will return soon, promise me that you and the children will rest if you can."
He kissed her lips briefly, "I promise, now go, I will be here when you return."
She walked past the both of them and after mounting a nearby horse she rode off towards Erebor, as fast as the animal could carry her. Bard watched her until she was out of sight and then noticed that Legolas hadn't taken his own leave yet. He looked back at the elf prince and couldn't help but frown. Legolas was regarding him with a look distain, as if he couldn't comprehend what had grown between him and Tauriel.
"You look terrible," he pointed out. Bard couldn't help but laugh, "I thank you for your honesty; it seems I must find a looking glass somewhere to confirm just how awful I look. But if I may, your highness, you don't look so well yourself."
The elf glared at him and Bard certainly hoped that he wasn't looking for a fight, as he was certain that he wouldn't be able to lift his sword anymore. A pulse of pain shot through his side just then, as if just thinking about the wound was enough to make it hurt again. Legolas noticed his grimace and arched an eyebrow, "Perhaps you should rest," he suggested, "I hear that Men can tire easily."
"I'll manage," Bard replied, "My people still need to be seen too."
The two stared each other down for a moment before Legolas turned on his heel and mounted a second horse. He too sped off in the direction of Erebor, leaving Bard to frown after him. It seemed that not all elves shared the same kind and gentle heart that Tauriel had been graced with. She had made that known the second time they had met, nearly a fortnight later.
She was waiting for him on the dock, and he couldn't help but marvel at how she carried herself; with so much grace and dignity. He briefly wondered if she was a high born elf, surely she must be, but then again he highly doubted that a high born elf would waste her time on one such as him. As the boat glided closer over the water he could see that she wore an apprehensive look on her face, and he wondered if the spiders had been causing her people more trouble.
He threw the rope line to her, which she caught and tied off without looking directly at him.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company today?" he asked her. She looked up at him, unsure if he was being sarcastic and wanted her to leave, or if he was being genuine and wanted her to stay. He offered a small smile which seemed to assure her, as she offered one back.
"I would like to apologize to you," she said, "My words caused you pain."
He held up his hand to stop her, "If it is all the same to you, my lady, I would rather not speak of it again. If it will put you at ease however, your apology is accepted."
She observed him curiously, "I admit, I have not had much dealings with men."
"You are the first elf I have met, might I know your name?"
"Tauriel; and yours?"
"Bard."
She nodded, as if she thought it suited him. A comfortable silence fell over them as they got to work with his tedious job of collecting the barrels. She didn't seem to mind however, as she was far to absorbed with eyeing the treeline, or watching over him.
"I take it the spiders are still an issue?" he asked her once they finished. She sighed in frustration and nodded, "I am not supposed to be here, since it is outside of our borders."
Bard had to admit that he was impressed. She was defying her orders and protecting an area that she didn't have to, as for her reasons for doing it he wasn't sure. Not that he was complaining as he found that he rather enjoyed her company. Having someone to speak with, or pass the time in easy silence, was a nice change to being out here on his own.
"So you are a warrior," he mused, "For a moment I had thought you a queen."
"You mock me?"
"I jest, my apologies," he replied, "My…my wife and I used to exchange such quips. It has been awhile since I have spoken to…I am not very good at this."
He was surprised at himself for admitting even this much to her. He was a solitary man by nature, preferring to care for his children and help his people as much as he could. He didn't have anyone to confide in, and often thought it was for the best as he didn't want to seem weak. But the elf took his words in her stride and offered him a comforting smile, assuring him with a look that she would say nothing of what he told her. Instead she changed the subject, for which he was grateful, "I am a captain of the royal guard, hardly a lady and far from a queen. I have a friend who enjoys teasing me as you do. I hope you are better equipped to handle when I retaliate, as my friend often gets cross with me."
He laughed, "I shall do my best to hide my wounds from your verbal assaults."
Tauriel smiled as she found herself liking the man more and more for his quick wit and quiet nature. Yet she could sense that there was sadness in him, buried just beneath the surface, and she couldn't help but wonder at what he had experienced. She could discern that he had lost his wife and that it had scarred him deeply, but there was more. She couldn't bring herself to ask him, as it wasn't her business and if any other elf had been here they would tell her that she shouldn't invest herself any further.
But then again, Tauriel had never been one to follow orders.
"I've brought something for you," she said, "A gift."
She picked up a large basket which had been filled to the brim with food, drink and small carved animals; play things for his children. There was also an elven dagger, encased in a beautifully crafted scabbard. He picked up the dagger and turned it over in his hands, "This is very generous of you Tauriel; you have my sincere thanks."
He noticed how the very tips of her ears turned bright pink as she blushed.
"I'm afraid my carving skills are lacking, still I hope your children enjoy them."
"You made these?" he picked up a small wooden elk and marveled at the details, Sigrid would adore this. Bain would want the bear of course and little Tilda would enjoy the horse, "They are very good."
"I just wish to help, bring a smile to their faces if I can," she replied.
"You like children then?"
"I do, we do not have young ones in Mirkwood," she confessed, "It is very rare to see an elf child for many years. All elves look on children as precious, human children especially as they are so bright and curious; they make us feel young again."
"Maybe I'll introduce you to them someday," he offered, "I know Sigrid has always wanted to meet an elf. She's heard many old tales and clings to them for their beauty."
Tauriel smiled, "I would like that."
He set the basket into the boat and then turned back to Tauriel. He took her hand in his, and lightly kissed her knuckles, "Until next time, my lady."
From that moment on, the two of them had formed a quick friendship. He would find her waiting for him and they would exchange few words as they spoke about the goings on in their respective homes. Tauriel would sometimes bring a gift; or even a small meal for the two of them to share together before he would return home. Bard wasn't sure why she was spending her time with him, but he found that he wasn't quite so lonely anymore, not with her visits to look forward too. In a way, she was helping him to find himself again, helping him to move on.
"Da?"
For the second time Bard was returned to reality and looked down to see Tilda gripping his arm, he winced at the added pressure it put on his wound, but smiled at his daughter.
"Why did Tauriel leave?" she asked. Bard held onto her hand and approached Sigrid and Bain, the two of them looking rather tired but were doing their very best to hide it.
"She went to help the dwarves, but she will return as soon as she can."
"What should we do now?" Sigrid asked. Bard looked around the courtyard that they were currently standing in. The people around them seemed to be getting along alright, especially since there were still some elves scattered about handing out supplies. Their presence was helping to keep people calm and Bard was very grateful for that, his people had been through much and right now they deserved a bit of a reprieve.
"Let's try to find a place to rest, maybe something to eat and drink," he told them, "We'll need our strength to help when the rebuilding starts."
"You'll be needing more than that I suspect, sire."
The voice itself was enough to make Bard cringe, and when he turned he didn't even bother to stop the frown that formed on his face. Alfrid stared back at him with a smug expression on his own. Bard had to withhold the overwhelming urge to hit the man, and since his children where there he did not want them to see any more violence if he could help it.
"No more skirt Alfrid?" he asked, smirking at the annoyed expression the comment brought.
"I've only come to offer congratulations," the man said, "Dragon slayer and soon to be the King of Dale, if the whispers are true. Although I have to say this place isn't much of a kingdom."
"I'm no king," Bard replied shortly.
"The people will look to you, they already do," Alfrid pointed out, "Ever the people's champion, remember? I'd be careful though, wouldn't want that to get around too much. I imagine those who still have loyalty to the Master might have a problem with it."
Bain picked up on the implied threat and stepped forward, as if he was ready for a fight. Bard held his arm out to stop his son and Alfrid took a few steps back, the smug smirk still in place.
"Enough," Bard insisted, "The Master is dead and I have no interest in being king. You can tell your friends that they have no quarrel with me. I'm sure you can find someone else to play lapdog too."
He made to lead his family away when another shooting pain ripped through his side. It was enough to stop him short and force a strangled moan from his lips. He stumbled slightly and would have fallen had it not been for Bain, who caught his arm and helped him stand upright.
"Da!" Sigrid cried, she was at his side in an instant, "Da, what can I do?"
"I'm alright," he assured them, although he was certain that they did not believe him at all.
"Hurt during the fight were you," Alfrid mocked, "Now that is a shame, such a…OW!"
Before any of them could stop her, Tilda had lashed out with her foot and kicked the man right in the shin, giving him a glare that would have surprised most, "You leave my Da alone!"
Sigrid took her hand and pulled her away, following after their father and leaving Alfrid to glare after them. Bain glanced down at his sister and couldn't help but grin, she wasn't as quiet or as timid as people seemed to think she was, especially when her family was involved.
"Da, what happened?" Sigrid asked. Bard said nothing but led them back to the small house he had taken shelter in earlier. There he removed his coat and Sigrid's hands flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp, Tilda's eyes welled with tears while Bain's complexion paled. Bard removed his shirt and could see the reason for their dismay. The makeshift bandage he had used before hadn't done much and blood had seeped all the way through.
"Bain, get some water," Sigrid instructed, adapting her big sister voice, "Da, please sit down, Tilda can you try to find something to eat."
Her two siblings nodded and hurried away. Sigrid then started ripping off pieces of fabric from her skirt, in her own attempts to make some bandages. With the larger pieces she started to mop up the blood from her father's wound, trying her best to hide the fact that she was terrified. Bard sighed apologetically, "That's your favourite dress."
"I can always make another," she replied.
"You sounded like your mother just now," he told her with a faraway look in his eyes. Sigrid shifted her weight but remained silent. Bard knew that it was painful for her to talk about even after all this time, "She'd be so proud of you, of all of you."
"She shouldn't have left."
"She was sick, Sigrid, it wasn't her fault."
"I was speaking about Tauriel," his daughter pointed out shortly. She paused for a moment before adding in a calmer voice, "I'm sorry, Da."
Sigrid often changed the subject when the topic of her mother came up. She still had memories of her mother, fond ones and ones not so, but she liked to keep them for herself and treasure them. She liked Tauriel just fine and was happy that she and her father were together, and she preferred to leave it at that.
"You mustn't be angry with Tauriel; I didn't tell her about this, if she knew she would have stayed."
"Sigrid."
Bain rushed into the house, carrying a wooden bucket filled to the brim with fresh water. After separating it into what she would use to clean the wound and what could be used to drink, Sigrid went to work heating the water. Bain handed his father a cup to drink from, "Da, I saw Alfrid talking to some men; I think we're in trouble."
Bard winced, "When aren't we?"
Tilda ran inside moments later looking rather proud as she showed off what she had found; a loaf of bread and some apples.
"An elf gave me these," she reported, handing a piece of bread to her father, "He was very nice."
"Well done, little star," Bard praised her, patting her cheek affectionately. He gasped when Sigrid began to clean the wound with the water. Tilda stood next to her sister, ready to help if she was needed. Once the blood was cleaned away they could get a better look at what they were dealing with, and it wasn't good.
The wound was from a knife and from the looks of it a piece had chipped off and was embedded in the muscle. What worried Sigrid the most was the fact that she could already see signs of infection and the dark veins around it suggested poison. Worst of all was that this wound reminded her of Kili's. Bain saw it too and they exchanged worried looks.
"It's bad, isn't it?" Bard asked them, as if he sensed their worry.
"Yes," Sigrid replied, "Da, I don't know what to do."
"We need help," Tilda pointed out.
"Who can we ask?" Bain argued, "That…worm has his 'bodyguards' out there looking for us and who knows who else might be helping them."
"We're on our own," Bard muttered, as his wound started to radiate pain, "Once again."
Winter-Rae: This is probably going to be around 5 chapters long. Also Tilda will have a bigger part in this story, because she's so adorable. Let me know what you thought. Cheers!
Elvish phrases
Meleth nin- My love