Chapter Eight
Ruins of Dale, 28th of November 2941 T.A.
After breakfast, Bard left Thranduil's tent to go to his own, for his daily reports from Percy and Hilda. The children had already been fed and gone for the day, so they sat down at the table in his tent and went over items that were pertinent and pressing. All the rest could wait until after the ceremonies tomorrow. It didn't look like it was going to rain for the next several days, Bard told them, so things should go well.
"How can you be sure?" asked Hilda.
"King Thranduil has a knack for such things. He knows the trees, I guess, and he also knows the weather. Which reminds me. I should tell you, he's predicted a harsh winter, which will be coming soon." Bard gave a wry laugh. "As if we needed more to deal with."
"We sure don't! What are we gonna to do? We have the sick, and the children, and the orphans. How are we gonna survive?" Hilda exclaimed.
Bard had the same fears as they did, probably as all his people did. "I don't know, Hil. I really don't. But I can promise you I'll do my best to get this settled before snows come." He addressed Percy. "Have you finished with the burying of the bodies? I hate to ask, but…"
Percy heaved a great sigh, and said. "The men on the night shift finished the job. Bard, I don't mind telling you that was one of the worst..." He fished his handkerchief out of pocket and wiped his eyes.
"I know, Pers. I hated asking you to do it. I saw it from the Tower last night." He put his hand on Percy's shoulder. "All the men assigned to that task are to be given some time off, if they want. It was bad enough to see it from up there. If I were to do it…"
"Aye, I'll see to it."
"Speaking of which, that's on the agenda today. We need to meet on the field after the Midday meal to rehearse the funeral some. The King's Chief Aide will also be there. We're going to combine them, to hopefully show respect for all that fought together."
"I like that. What about the Dwarves?"
"Some'll be there as guests, but they've got a tomb at the bottom of the mountain for such things. The King and I are going the day after as guests. Thranduil is bringing Feren and Galion as his Aides. Which is another thing I want to bring up with you. I want you two to come as the same for me."
Percy and Hilda were flabbergasted. "Bard! We can't go to something like that. That's just for royalty and all. The only reason you're invited is you're the Leader of Dale!"
"Well, this is another thing I need to talk to you two about…"
Then Bard told them about all that was discussed four days ago, and about how his lineage made him King, whether he liked it or not. That he'd actually been a King for about a month, he just hadn't known it. And, finally, as there was no other way to see to the future of Dale the way they were all hoping to, that he had accepted his fate and will be crowned.
If the older couple were stunned before, that was nothing compared to this. All they could do was stare at him, as if he had suddenly grown other heads on each side of his shoulders. And the staring went on, with their mouths hanging open.
Of course, it was Hilda who first found something to say.
"A King? A KING?"
"Shh! Quiet down! I don't want anyone to know yet!"
"Why not? You're a KING for Valar's sake! A Ki-." Hilda stopped herself and took a deep breath. "I can't believe it! Why didn't you tell US about your family? Bard! We're your friends!" She was visibly hurt, as was Percy.
"I couldn't tell anyone. The Master hated me already for marrying Mattie out from under his nose. You know he had it out for me ever since then, and I'm surprised he hasn't gotten after you two more for associating with me. Besides, I had no right to do anything about it anyway. I'd forgotten about it, to be honest. To me, it was just stories Mam and Da told me when I was a kid. I never thought about it, until after Da died and I found the Black Arrow amongst his things. To me, was a family heirloom, not a sign of power. The children didn't even know about it until the night the Dragon came."
"So, when are you going to tell our folks?"
"After the funerals. I don't want anything to take away from that. Besides, I was thinking…"
"…that our folks need somethin' good to think on after the wretchedness of buryin' the dead." Percy said, and nodded in approval.
"Exactly. Which brings me to another request, and I want you two to think on this before you answer. I'd like to give you official positions in the Kingdom. I'll end up living in Girion's castle, and I'll need someone I can trust to run things there, Hilda. It's a big job, and there will be lots of things you'll have to learn about, but I need someone that'll be loyal, and who can keep their mouth shut. I won't have a gossip in that position, and I won't have someone who tolerates it from the rest of the staff.
"I also want you to oversee the children's education. Not just mine, but all of them in Dale. I'm not asking you to teach them; you won't have the time for that, but I need someone to be in charge of the teachers. You could appoint someone, and he or she could be answerable to you. But, I'll need progress reports and arrangements to be made for teachers to be brought from other lands, when possible, to educate them about different culture and their language. Also, if there are any grown men or women who want to learn to read and write, I want to have them taught. The Master played on ignorance to keep himself in power. He squashed any attempts a formal school system in Laketown, and I won't do that.
"Percy, I'm asking you to be my Chief Aide. I need someone by my side constantly, to oversee a lot of paperwork that'll be put in front of me, and to make sure I'm aware of what's going on in Dale. I want to know what everybody needs, and I'll not have anyone falling through the cracks in the walkway because they're left to suffer alone. I won't run a country and have it end up like Laketown. I want every single person to know that they're cared about, and won't be forgotten! I'd want you to appoint a Chief Healer, and have 'em get started on a Healing Hall, and see what needs to be done to train more of them.
"We'll eventually need a proper army of our own. I'll need your help in overseeing the military, when it comes to that. For now, the Elves will be doing what they can to protect us, but our men will need to be properly trained, if we're to be independent, one day. That won't be for a long while; there's nothing else to be done on that. In the meantime, Thranduil intends to keep some of the Elves over the winter, and to help with the rebuilding, and guard us. I know you're the one who'll keep what goes on in my study or meetings to yourself, and you'll make sure papers will be only seen by the eyes they're supposed to.
"And," he looked at both of them. "There'll be more pomp and ceremony than any of us will like, but I'll need help with protocol and procedure, and I won't have time to research all that by myself. Once the city has been fully restored, other people will come, some to visit, and some to stay. I need to be up on the customs of all these places, so we make them feel welcome. I also want them to know that we are proud of our people, and that we have the ability to run this Kingdom and keep it running for hundreds of years.
"I want you two ba cause you have only the best in mind for our people. There's a lot to be done, and even more I want to see done. From what I've heard so far, the Dwarves are planning on giving us more than our fair share of the treasure, and if all goes right, we can do this. If this is where we've ended up, then we must make the most of it. The next five years will tell us if we can succeed or fail. You are my greatest friends, and I hope you say yes, because I honestly don't know if I'll can do all this without you."
Percy looked at Hilda; Hilda looked at Percy, then they both turned to look at him.
"Where'll we be living if we're supposed to be doing all of this?"
"There is more than enough room in the Palace. You would have your own set of rooms."
"We'd be living in the Castle?"
"Yes, if you're willing."
"I don't know about the old man, here, but a Palace sounds nice…" Then Hilda smiled. "Of course, we'll do it, Bard!" She patted his arm. "Wouldn't trust it to anyone else."
Bard wanted to throw his arms around both of them. So, he did.
The arrangements for tomorrow were mostly set, reflecting the strengths and traditions of both cultures. There was just the quick trip down to the fields for an hour or two, so they all could walk through the proceedings several times to make sure everything goes smoothly. At first, Bard had balked at this, but Thranduil and Galion told him tomorrow will be difficult - plus, he's never officiated anything, let alone something on such a grand scale. Their people were looking to them to honor their dead in the best way possible, and this effort would ensure it.
"It will be much harder than you can guess, Bard, and you need to be prepared for it. Lord Percy and Lady Hilda will need the practice as well." Thranduil told him. After they returned from the fields, having gone through all the steps, Bard could see the wisdom in his words.
Hilda was doing her best to avoid Thranduil, Bard said. She wasn't used to the idea of Bard being an actual King, and she was nervous and flustered around the Elvenking. They both found it amusing - Hilda was an force to be reckoned with, almost as intimidating as Thranduil himself, when he wanted to be. The image of her quaking in her boots about anything seemed ridiculous.
Galion and Hilda had already spent a great deal of the time talking. They worked together to coordinate the Children's Tent, and several other matters, and had a good rapport. The older couple were going to be performing the duties that Galion has done for thousands of years, so there were plans, for them to work with closely him intensely to train them. The Chief Aide liked Percy and Hilda and was glad to be of help.
There was just this first winter to get through. He and Bard were going to have to talk about that. Some concerns and ideas were coming to his mind. Bard may not initially like them, but at the moment, Thranduil could think of nothing else. All of that will have to wait until a week after the ceremonies. The all-important negotiations with the Dwarves needed to take place.
It won't be as terrible as he had originally thought. Most of the actual negotiations will be done with Balin, the sensible one, with final approval from Dain, who planned only to be present at the first meeting, then for the final signatures. Since all Thranduil wanted was his wife's necklace, he had set his mind more towards making sure Bards gets everything that is coming to him, which he suspected, will be more than Bard thinks he needs. These matters will wait.
In the meantime, he is going to simply enjoy Bard's company, as he was sitting across the table from him.
"Would you like something to drink, Bard? It has been a long day." He could see that Bard had something on his mind.
"Just some water please. No, wait… I've changed my mind - I'll take some wine after all, but just a little. That stuff hit me hard last night on an empty stomach, but it might help my nerves." The man sighed, deeply. "I'm really not looking forward to tomorrow."
"I feel the same way. Those things will never get easier, I'm afraid."
"Well, you would know." Bard looked down at his drink for a minute or two, and Thranduil could tell he had something on his mind. "I was thinking about what you said last night, Thranduil, about the Valar. I see what you're saying now, about how all this happened, and how they look after us, and I think you're right. It does help, a little."
"I am glad." Thranduil nodded. This wasn't it. There was something else…
"I was also thinking about you and me." Bard looked up at him, as he was filling Bard's goblet. "I…really enjoyed…all that…with you, you know."
"I am glad about that, too." Thranduil said softly, looking into those eyes, so like his trees; brown like the branches he loved to climb, and green like the leaves that move in the wind. He loved looking at them. Now, though, those eyes were troubled, and Bard took a deep breath.
"I'm worried, Thranduil. I've got to tell you this; as much as I enjoyed it, and want this…thing between us to work – and I really do - what's happening with my city has got to work. It can't fail, or people could die." Bard blew out his breath, and looked down at his wine. "What if things go bad between you and me? What could happen to my people? I have to put them first. I don't want to…I'm afraid about taking any chances on my people's survival. Can you understand that?"
"Yes, I understand, Bard. But, it is not just your people, is it?"
"No. It's not. If what happens between us turns into something…. I don't know…I just know that my children have had me all to themselves for a long time. I can't just force someone into their lives, without making sure they're ready for it. I'm their father, and that has to come first, too. Even before the people of Laketown. I can't hurt them by a reckless, sudden change… I need to do this carefully, if we have any chance. Do you understand?"
Thranduil got up and walked to his chair, and took Bard's chin and raised it up to meet his gaze. "I give you my solemn promise to not only you, but to your children, and to your children's children, that nothing will affect my promise to help you. I hope you can believe that." He smiled at Bard. "In fact, you don't have to hope. One of the things that I plan to do is put my commitment to your people in writing. I had planned that even before last night. There are reasons for this, beyond what you want for your people." He looked at Bard seriously, willing him to have confidence in his words.
"Bard, no matter what happens between us, I vow to do my utmost to help your Kingdom succeed. Like you, I believe that Dale has got to be a viable and strong part of the North. Even if someone else had inherited this Kingdom, I would feel precisely the same way." He moved his hand to brush Bard's cheek with his thumb. "However, I must tell you that, for selfish reasons, I am glad it was you." He smiled down at the Bowman.
"As for your children, I completely agree. They do not know me, and I do not know them. Neither one of us are the kind to trifle with such things, and I would never refuse the same consideration I would want shown to my own children if they were young. It is early yet to even know what is between us, but I do know I wish to find out."
He moved in closer to Bard, and kissed him thoroughly. Bard stood up, and wrapped his arms around Thranduil and pulled him closer, deepening their kiss. Then they stood and held each other for several moments, each burying their faces in the other's neck. Thranduil reveled in every second of it. He was feeling warmed from the inside out, and the more he was given from this Bowman, the more he wanted…
He refused to think of how it could be that he wanted more of Bard. It was confusing and frightening, and...
...not possible. Yet, he couldn't stop his heart from reaching out for him, wanting to hold him close, and never, ever let go.
Bard sat at the table in his tent, watching his children eat their supper.
After they returned from the Children's area, they told him all about what they had done that day, and the stories that Tauriel had told all the children about her forest, and the Vala Yavanna, Queen of the Trees. Sigrid enjoyed helping with the little ones, but Bard sensed a restlessness in her. His girl had something on her mind. He would wait until she came to him about it, but if not, he'd seek her out.
Of course, they all wanted to know why he wasn't there, when they got up that morning. Tauriel had just told them what she had been instructed; that he had been called away in the night, nothing serious, she had told them, when they looked worried, but it required his presence.
Of course, they wanted details, which Bard had no intention of providing. "You're going to have to get used it. I may be called away many times, until we get things running better for our folk here. So, don't worry about your old Da, kids. All right?"
They seemed to have a good day with Tauriel and the other children, and the older two seemed to be throwing off the Battle a bit more. He was expecting setbacks, but, overall, he wasn't that concerned with Sigrid and Bain. He wished Tilda would show signs of her former, happy self; she was still withdrawn. Tauriel said she spoke a bit more today, and gave small little smiles, so surely that was an improvement, wasn't it? These first few days around all the other noisy children were proved to be too much, so Tauriel was leaving guards with the older two, and taking Tilda back to their tent in the afternoons, so they could quietly relax, and the little girl could nap, if she needed. Bard knew it would take time and patience, but he longed for some assurance that she hadn't been permanently damaged. He wanted his baby back.
"Da? What did you do today?" Sigrid looked at him, curiously. She was fifteen, and growing up so fast. Don't parents always say that? But these days, Bard knew why it was so true. His girl had her mother's looks, bearing, and her strong will. It felt impossible, because it seemed to him she was only born into this world moments ago; yet there she was, as tall as her mother had been, and a poignant reminder of the woman he loved.
"Me? Oh, nothing exciting, you'd be bored to hear about it." He had wondered about what he should say about the funerals; in the end deciding nothing, just in case it would trigger anxiety in them.
"But didn't you see the Elf King again today?" Bain looked up from his dish and waited for an answer, still shoveling food into his mouth. "Did you see his swords? And his armor?"
"Yes, I did. They are in his tent, on a stand."
"Really?" Bain exclaimed like any thirteen-year-old boy.
"Yes, really." Bard smiled at his son.
"How tall is he, really? All the Elves are tall, I mean, but he's really tall! I remember seeing some of them, and how they could jump and flip and…"
Sigrid piped up. "I saw some of them when we walked past the healing tents. I've never seen anything like it. I remember Tauriel when she was healing-"
Bard cleared his throat at the two, and jerked his head slightly in Tilda's direction.
"Sorry, Da. So, what are the things you talk about in your meetings? And no nasty stuff, please." Sigrid wasn't going to stop until her curiosity was satisfied.
Bard gave a laugh. "Oh, this and that. Things about getting Dale up and running, how to make sure we're safe until the building can start, what to say to the Dwarves when we start meeting with them, all kinds of stuff. Which reminds me: there is something important I need to talk to you Sea Monsters about. I found out something during our meetings I think you all should know."
All eyes were on him, even Tilda's.
Bard braced himself. He hadn't originally planned to tell his children of his title, and by extension, theirs, for quite a while yet, but they were bound to find out, and he wanted it to come from him. The guards constantly calling him 'My Lord' was certainly a clue that something was going on.
"It seems, kids, that Black Arrow of mine proved to the Elves and the Dwarves and even Gandalf, that I'm a descendant of Girion. That was why I kept it hidden, since your Grand-Da died, because the Master had enough reason not to like me, and I didn't need him making life any worse for us. If he knew that I came from Girion's family, he could've made things harder.
"Thing is, kids, as it turns out, I have that Arrow not only because I'm a descendant of Girion, the last King of Dale, but I am the descendant." Bard inhaled. "Which means that I'm Girion's heir, which also means... He paused for effect. "That I, Bard of Laketown, am now Bard, King of Dale." He stopped again, just to take in their faces. "And, if I am King of Dale, that means, that you, Bain, are the Crown Prince of Dale, and Sigrid and Tilda, you are now officially Princesses."
Absolute silence. They were frozen. Bain's hand was halfway up to his mouth, and his spoon fell out of his hand and clattered on his plate; he didn't even notice. Oh, this was the most fun he had had since…well, the wee hours of this morning, actually, with a certain tall, icy blonde Elf...
They still stared at him, mouths open, with eyes as big as their plates.
Bard shrugged casually. "Of course, if you kids don't want to be a Prince and Princesses, you don't have to, maybe we can arrange to…"
There was an explosion of noise all of a sudden, and their voices were talking at once. Eyes wide, disbelieving, babbling out questions so fast, that between them, he couldn't understand. He looked at Tilda, whose eyes were the brightest they had been since the Battle. Ignoring the other two, he pulled his chair out slightly, and held his arms out, for Tilda to come sit on his lap. She got down from her chair and came over, and crawled into his arms.
"Pipe down you two, I'll answer all of your questions in a minute, all right? Don't we want to see what Tilda has to say about this?" He looked at his baby, "What do you think, Little Bean? Would you like to be a princess?" She nodded at him, and he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. But he wanted her to talk. "Do you have any questions?" She nodded again. "What do you want to know, Little Bean?"
"Will I have pretty dresses?"
Bard smiled at her and nodded. "Not right away, though, I'm sorry about that. Soon, this whole city is going to be rebuilt, and it's going to be all new again! Girion's Castle has to be all fixed up, and that's going to take some time. We have to make sure everybody else has a nice, warm place to live, first, don't we? All this is going to take a lot of work, even with the Elves and the Dwarves to help us. So, I'm asking you all to be patient; can you do that?" He looked around the table, waiting for their agreement, which he got. "Oh, that reminds me. When we do move into the Castle, guess who is going to come there to live with us?"
"Who?" Bain asked.
"Uncle Percy and Auntie Hil! They're going to be there every day." He smiled back to his littlest. "What do you think about that?"
This time Tilda smiled a little, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Sigrid and Bain gave a whoop and clapped their hands.
"Are you friends with the Elf King now, Da? What's he like? I mean, if you're a King too..."
"You're right, Sigrid. We are becoming good friends. He wants to help me learn how to be a good King, and he enjoys having someone around that isn't going bow and scrape to him all the time. But," Bard said pointedly, "I expect you three to mind your best manners around him. He is a King, after all, and I expect you to bow, Bain, and I expect you girls to curtsy to him, and use his title, and be very polite."
"But we're princesses!" Sigrid said, looking at Tilda, who looked to her Da for the answer.
"Ah, now, my Monsters, here comes the hard part of being Royalty. As Prince and Princesses, you must be even more polite to others, especially in public, no matter what. And you're all going to have things to do. I won't have any of my children sit around and be idle, expecting others to do for them." Their faces fell. "As King Thranduil says, 'A true King is a servant to his people.' His own father taught him that, and he is absolutely right. That also means that you three will help serve Dale, too. But I'm not worried; you're all good children, and I know you'll do your best. Won't you?" He turned to Tilda, still in his lap and booped her nose.
Another question. "Da? If you and the Elf King are friends, can we meet him? I want to meet him!" Bain said.
"I've got an idea!" Sigrid said. "Can he come here for supper? I think it would be nice! Do you think he would come?"
"I don't see why not. I can certainly ask him, if that's all right with the rest of you." There were eager nods all the way around. "Well, that's settled then. How about we finish our dinner, and start with the baths, yeah?"
It was a wonderful evening. It was the closest they had come to their normal life back in Laketown, when nothing out of the ordinary would be going on, and he had never appreciated it as much as he did now. He was devoted to his children, and he was happy to see smiles on their faces again. He'd come so close to losing them... He sighed, and give thanks.
"Da?" It was Sigrid. "Can I ask you for something?"
"What is it, Princess?" he teased. Tilda was taking her bath first, and Bain was on his cot, staring at the ceiling; no doubt thinking about Thranduil's swords, or princely things, or boyish things.
She smiled at this, and sat down, suddenly looking serious. She spoke quietly, not wanting the others to hear. "I'd like to go tomorrow. I think I should, and I want to."
"Are you sure? You've been through so much, and I wanted you children to be spared all that…"
"I know, Da. And you're right to spare the children, but I'm older, and as you said, I'm a Princess of Dale. I want to be there for our people and to be there for the Elves, too; they've helped us since we came here. Even if you hadn't told me about you being King, I was still going to ask to go." She put her hand on his. "I want to be there for you, too, Da. I know this is going to be hard, and I want to be with you."
Bard looked at his girl for long moment, as his eyes filled, and her imaged blurred . He swallowed and squeezed her fingers. "Thank you, darling. It would mean a lot to me."
Sigrid wasn't finished. "I want to ask you something else." Bard nodded, encouraging her to go on. "You were saying that you wanted us to have jobs. I've been thinking. I saw how the Healers and the Elves are helping everyone, and I think I want to learn how to do that, if you'd let me. I'm not squeamish, and I know it would be hard, but I want to try."
This girl never ceased to surprise him. He adored her strength and her steely determination, and he loved looking at that face that so reminded him of her mother. "All right, Sigrid, if that's what you really want, I'll see what can be set up to start your training." He smiled at her. "I'm proud of you, sweet girl, and I know your mother would be too. When did you get to be so grown up?"
She got up and kissed the top of his head. "I was born grownup. Just like Ma."
"Yes, you are, love." He grabbed her hand, and kissed it. "Your Ma will never truly be gone, as long as you're around. Always remember that."
She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I love you, Da."
"I love you too. Always."
After planting another kiss on his cheek, she turned to go wash her little sister's hair and help her out of her bath, and get Bain started. Soon, Tilda came over to him, and crawled on his lap. Her little sleeping outfit the Elves had provided for her looked toasty warm, and she had heavy slippers on her feet. She looked clean and warm and terribly cute. Her hair was still too damp though, so Bard had her get a towel, and a brush so he could dry her hair some more. After rubbing her head some, he was combing it out gently, Tilda started talking.
"Da?" She asked quietly.
"Yes, darling?"
"I'm glad you didn't die when the Orcs came."
Oh, did that hurt to hear from those sweet, tiny lips! Bard tried to sound normal, which took a bit of effort.
"I'm glad too. And I thank the Valar every day that I have all you kids."
"I thought they killed you," she whispered, "I thought we were gonna be eaten by the Trolls..."
Oh, gods... Please help...
"I know, Little Bean." He kissed her head, and kept combing out sections of her hair. "But, I want you to try to think on better things, okay? I'm here, Sigrid and Bain are here, and you still have Uncle Percy and Auntie Hil, don't you?" She nodded her head.
She didn't say anything for a minute or two. Then a wobbly little voice was heard.
"I miss Charlotte, Da." And a tear ran down her round cheek. He put the comb down and turned her around in his lap, and kissed her forehead.
"I know you do, love. I know." And he put his arms around her and pulled her to him as she started to cry. He held her tight, and rubbed her back and murmured sweet words to her quietly as she finally let her sadness flow out of her. Bard felt a tear on his face, too. As much as he hated to see his baby girl cry, he was happy to see her tears.
It meant that perhaps she might be all right.
Field of Desolation; 29th of November, 2941 T.A.
Thranduil stood still as a stone statue. He had to.
If he moved, if he spoke, if he even so much as blinked, he would lose all control, and he cannot do that in front of his people who look to him to be a source of strength, steadfastness, and hope. It took almost all of his concentration just to breathe evenly; in and out, in and out…
He listened, as Feren listed the name of every ellon and elleth that sacrificed their lives in this battle.
He saw Bard standing with his people and one of his children, the oldest, he thought. What was her name again? He knew the boy looked the image of his father, and this girl must take after her mother, with her blue eyes and hair that was a light brown. He had his arm around her, and she leaned against her father, as they offered each other support.
Radagast, Beorn, Bilbo, and Dáin, King Under the Mountain, with a small contingent of his Dwarves, were also here, to pay their respects to the fallen. He could hardly stand the sight of Dáin, but he and his people were willing to pay their respects, not only to Bard's people, but to his own. Falling in battle against a common enemy, Elf, Man, and Dwarf gave equal sacrifices, and deserved equal consideration. The new King Under the Mountain understood this, which gave him hope for the Northern Kingdoms.
Bard's Second-in Command, Percy came forward to speak of the dead of their people; their courage and bravery and many things that were good about these Laketown folk. A large bell had been found, set up in a temporary frame, and struck once for each person on the list of dead or missing. The peals of the bell seemed to last forever, but, finally it ended, the last sound lingering on and on, until it faded into nothing.
It was decided by Bard and Hilda that there would be no reading of the names, for them. It simply wasn't their way. Even so, Bard told him that Percy wouldn't be able to read all those names and not fall apart, and neither could he.
Thranduil's people were soldiers, and they had known and accepted the dangers; Bard's people were not, and the idea of saying names of innocent people, especially children might be too much to bear right now. The people of Laketown's grief was palpable. The Elvenking marveled at how easily Bard's people held each other up, in solace. This was another sign of their strength, and another assurance that Dale will be revitalized and will eventually prosper.
The discipline and restraint of the Elven army was to be expected during this ceremony. Thranduil would soon face the open mourning of the wives, husbands, children, parents of his fallen, when he returned home for the services there, and their songs will be sung for a long time.
At the proper time in the ceremony, Bard and Thranduil stepped forward together, with Mithrandir between them. They slowly turned, and made their way to the mounds of earth where their people slept eternally, and stood for a long moment. Since there were no flowers to be had, two arrangements of evergreens and branches with autumn leaves had been fashioned; carried by Sigrid and Galion, who walked behind their Kings and the Wizard. Bard turned, and Sigrid stepped forward to hand her greens to him, and stepped back in place. He walked over to the center of the grave mound of the People of the Lake, reverently placed it, and bowed. He stood silently for a minute, and walked back to stand beside the Wizard, still facing the dead.
Thranduil did the same before the graves of his own dead and, in Elven tradition, placed his hand to his heart and extended out to them, and returned to his place beside the others.
Both Kings stood still for several long minutes. Both needed moments facing away from the crowds to try to gather their composure before turning to face their people once again. To no avail. When they turned back, Bard had tears on his face, and Thranduil's vision was blurred.
The Wizard, with the Kings on either side of him, paced back to the crowds. Then Bard stepped forward and said, with his voice proud and his bearing strong, a prayer for the dead that was common among his people.
"Oh, Eru, Father of All,
Ulmo, and all the Valar,
who spreads out the heavens
and rules the raging of the seas,
we beg you to gather and receive
into your love and protection,
all those who go to you this day.
Preserve their souls, and bring them to the haven
where they would be yours to cherish and protect,
Until we can be joined with them again in boundless joy."
Hilda then stepped to the front of the Laketown People, and led them in singing a song that was also well-known to them, "The Fisherman's Hymn to Ulmo." It was a sad song, but like the blessing that Bard gave, the words gave promise to seeing their loved ones again someday. Thranduil hadn't heard it before, and found it haunting and lovely.
It was time for him to step up and say the blessing over the Elves
"O, Eru Ilúvitar!
Bannos hîr i firn!
Hîr i thŷr a thûl!
Tolo a dogo vín gwaith îdh vronadui.
Govano i nothrim în ah i mellyn în mi Mannos"
Then Thranduil and all the Elves started to sing the Hymn of Varda, to guide their fëas to the Halls of Mandos. The last verse was sung in Westron, so all Free Peoples could join in wishing their loved ones a safe journey:
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel,
silivren penna míriel
o menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaered palan-díriel
o galadhremmin ennorath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon
nef aear, si nef aearon!
A Elbereth Gilthoniel!
o menel palan-díriel
le nallon sí di'nguruthos!
A tiro nîn, Fanuilos!
A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!
silivren penna míriel
o menel aglar elenath!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees,
Thy starlight on the Western Seas."
While the people of Laketown, as of this day, Dale, didn't understand most of the words, they felt strength and comfort flow through them, nonetheless. The air they breathed felt fresher and cleaner, and thoughts of the stars comforted them. Hope sprung in their hearts to ease their grief, and the people could see themselves moving on, moving past all this tragedy, yet keep the love of the ones they lost in their hearts.
As the song ended, the two Kings turned back toward the burial mounds and watched Gandalf, as he stepped ahead of them and in between the mounds of fresh dirt. Raising his staff, the Wizard struck the ground three times; each strike sent off fireworks that burst into the sky with glittering brilliance of white, silver, and dark.
They all looked up in amazement, as the sparks morphed into the shape of birds: The white were now Sea Gulls to represent the fallen of Laketown; the grey evolved into Mithren aewe, Elven-birds, to represent each of the Elves that had perished, and the dark turned into Ravens to denote each Dwarf that was no more.
The Wizard waved his hand and wielded his staff, to gather them into one large flock, flying up, up, rolling, swelling, undulating as one mass, and gaining speed. He then sent them soaring high around the entire expanse of the Field of Desolation, making its way from where they were standing, over to the hill where Dáin and his dwarven army had first appeared, off to fly in front of the Lonely Mountain, around and back again. It hovered high over the people and the Mounds for a moment or two, then spiraled down, and swooped low, flying in a low circle around both Burial Mounds three times. The Ravens, the Mithren Aewe and Seagulls soared high once more, hovering again for a moment above the mounds, in a tight formation.
Mithrandir waved his staff and spoke loud, echoing words in Quenya. He struck the ground again. The Ravens broke out of the flock and headed East, toward the Lonely Mountain, as Dwarves return to the stone from which they were made. The staff struck the ground a second time, and all the Grey Elven-birds turned to the West toward the Sea. A third time, and the Seagulls turned South, towards the Long Lake: Each bird, each soul, flying away, until they were completely out of sight; to where their final destinies awaited them.
And, with that, thus ended the Funeral of the Dead for the Desolation of Smaug, and the Battle of the Five Armies.
ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
O, Eru Ilúvitar! – Oh, Eru, God of All!
Bannos hîr i firn! – Námo, Lord of the Dead!
Hîr i thŷr a thûl! - Lord of Eagles and Wind!
Tolo a dogo vín gwaith îdh vronadui - Come and lead our Elves to lasting peace.
Govano i nothrim în ah i mellyn în mi Mannos - May they join their family and friends in the afterlife."
Hymn to Elbereth Gilthoniel:
Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear!
O Queen beyond the Western Seas!
O Light to us that wander here
Amid the world of woven trees!
Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!
Clear are thy eyes and bright thy breath!
Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee
In a far land beyond the Sea.
O stars that in the Sunless Year
With shining hand by her were sown,
In windy fields now bright and clear
We see your silver blossom blown!
O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees,
Thy starlight on the Western Seas.
NOTES:
Please be kind if I have screwed this up. I looked at Sindarin websites and Sindarin rules of grammar till my eyes started to cross… :-P
CREDITS:
Thank you to this website for help with Thranduil's blessing: /phrasebooks/sindarin/doriath/
Thank you to this page for this lovely translation of the song of Elbereth: .
