Chapter 25

Bard

He was relieved when the council meeting came to an end and he was able to slip away quietly. While he was keenly interested in meeting Lady Galadriel, he felt completely out of place surrounded by so many dignitaries; Thranduil convinced him that it was his duty, as Lord of Dale, to attend prestigious meetings. However, if he had his way, he would have been right in the thick of laying bricks and raising foundations in the city instead of listening to wordy elves and wizards argue.

He meant to take his leave of Erebor, but not before speaking once again with Thorin about the rebuilding of Dale. The dwarf king offered him gold as well as workers, and he was grateful for the help. Something in Thorin's voice sounded different; as if he had regretted completely their previous encounters and was putting forth an effort to make amends. This side of Thorin was a welcome change and he knew that the citizens of Dale would benefit from a mutual relationship between men and dwarves.

"Dale and its residents thank you for your support, King Thorin Oakenshield. I must head back now, there is still much that needs to be done. Give my regards to your company." He said solemnly.

"Anticipate the arrival of the dwarves in several days. I will send them as soon as we clear the furnaces. In the future, you may send an emissary if you require anything further. I imagine that once you are crowned king, your time for venturing to Erebor will be restricted to important business only. We will be glad to receive and parlay with any of your men. Until we meet again, safe travels King Bard." Thorin's voice lifted as he spoke.

"I will send my most trusted adviser in my stead." He said as he clasped the Dwarf King's hand.

"King Bard! I have not had the chance to speak to you since the battle. How fares you and your city?" Fili called as he appeared in the gate.

"Master Fili, the city is well and growing every day. How are your brother and Lady Tauriel? Did Lady Galadriel have anything further to say about them?" He found his own curiosity getting the better of him.

"Tauriel has finally awoken and my brother is resting, I imagine they will be well enough soon. Lady Galadriel is a most interesting creature, she did not say very much but I believe that she accepts Gandalf's theory." Fili said as he shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun.

"That is good to hear about Tauriel. Erebor is looking more impressive with each visit. It must please you to be in the home of your ancestors." He revered.

"Ay, it does. How is Sigrid? I mean, how is your family. I hope they are well." Fili stammered.

"They are well. Sigrid is natural leader. She is handling the needs of the citizens with grace and poise." He beamed with pride as he spoke.

"Please give her my regards. Safe travels, King Bard." Fili nodded stoically.

He mounted his horse, Inglor the magnificent white stallion, and considered waiting for Thranduil to ride back with him, but from the looks of it, his friend was otherwise occupied by the elven guard who accompanied Lady Galadriel from Lothlorien. The fair and blonde elf, Haladir, certainly seemed to know The Elven King well, as they had greeted each other fondly and had spent a considerable amount of time in each other's presence. They are the same kind; naturally he would seek out the company of those most like himself. He pursed his lips as he thought. You are not his equal, nor will you ever be. He kicked his heels into Inglor and rode back towards the city, alone. Haladir is immortal, you are a mortal man doomed to die. That thought loomed in his mind and he tried to deduce exactly why he was so thoroughly perturbed by Thranduil's reaction to Haladir's arrival.

The city of Dale, while seven days ago was nothing but an empty shell, began to take back some of its former grandness as its gate came into view; collapsed towers were being reformed amid scaffolds, houses were erected for the weary citizens and the once demolished market place was slowly taking form as a bustling city-center once more. He could not deny that none of this would have been possible without aid from The Woodland Realm. Inglor kicked up dirt as they sped over the road connecting Erebor and Dale; he was not accustomed to riding a horse, but Inglor was a gift from Thranduil, and he was thankful for such a worthy companion.

He rode by a field that was being tended by some of the former citizens of Laketown; the earth, once overgrown with neglect, now torn up and prepared to be sown with seeds and the promise of a fruitful harvest.

"Good day, King Bard." The citizens gathered and called out to him as he approached.

"My friends, I am not a king." He muttered softly as the field workers paused to hear his words. "Tell me, how goes the seeding of the fields? Is the soil plenty fertile to yield enough crops to feed the town?"

"My lord, the soil has been successfully tilled and is ready for planting. This terrain is soft and seems well enough for growing. With some hard work and rain, we should have wheat in 4 months time." A man who was covered in dirt replied eagerly.

"Excellent news. Well done turning this field and should you require more strong backs and willing hands, King Thorin has offered the services of the dwarves from the Ironhills, they will arrive by week's end." He relayed the information and bid the workers farewell.

King Bard. He mused to himself as Inglor rode swiftly towards the city. The most reluctant king ever to rule. While the townsfolk and the Mirkwood elves had taken to referring to him thusly, he was hardly convinced that he deserved the title and the position. I am nothing more than a poor bargeman. How could I possibly rule over these good people? There was no time for him to self-doubt, as for the moment he arrived at the gates of Dale, he was inundated with requests for building supplies, approval of construction projects, and other matters related to the rebuilding. He spent the next several hours tending to various issues before allowing himself a moment to rest.

The demands of raising a kingdom left him tired and the pains in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten since dawn. He pushed open the door to the simple tent he and his family were staying in, and was greeted by his lovely daughter, Sigrid.

"Da! Welcome home! How was the council with the elves? Did you find out what happened to Kili and Tauriel?" Sigrid brimmed with excitement as she poured him a cup of tea.

"Yes and no, my love. You know how elves are- saying much without really saying anything at all." He sighed as he sunk down into a well-worn chair. He looked around the tent for the whereabouts of his other daughter. "Where has Tilda wandered off to this evening?"

"She is helping with the horses. I heard one of the mares Thranduil's elves brought is about to give birth to a new foal, and Tilda doesn't want to miss a moment. You know how she is with animals, Da." Sigrid said as she pulled her long, light brown curls up off of her neck and secured them back with a ribbon.

"The council was rather divided in opinion; most did not believe that Kili was in fact dead. Lady Galadriel seemed convinced though, at least I think she was. Who can say what is in the hearts and minds of elves." He grimaced as his thoughts strayed back to Thranduil.

"Not so for King Thranduil, he is not one to speak in riddles or mix words. What does he make of all of this?" She asked while placing a portion of meat and bread on a plate.

"I do not suppose he cares too much either way. I hardly spoke to him at the council." He tried to conceal the disappointment in his words.

"That is a surprise to hear. You two seem so close." She winked and it made him wonder what his daughter meant by that comment. "Oh, did Bain find you yet? The plans for the Great Hall require your approval and the builders want to begin construction. Also, Mister Coran said to tell you that he can't design you a palace if you keep rejecting all of his designs. But never mind all that, you should eat something first." She presented him with a heaping plate of food and pulled up a chair beside him.

"A palace." He scoffed. "I do not want nor need a palace or anything grand for that matter. I asked old Hamar Coran to draft plans for a small house, but he refuses to abide, saying that king needs an estate, not a modest dwelling. I am no king, Sigrid. I'm a simple man with simple needs. "

"That's why the people want you to be their king, Da; because you're not demanding the title. They look to you because you are a leader, a strong decision maker who puts the needs of others before his own. When the dragon was destroying Laketown, you were the only one running into the fire, the only one willing to sacrifice his life. No one will soon forget that, nor should they. For what's it worth, I think you'll make a fine king." Sigrid's eye shone with love and admiration as she spoke.

"A man such as myself counts his riches not in gold, but in the love from his children, and I am a rich man indeed." He reached for Sigrid's hand and held it tightly for a moment. "Daughter, you are too good to me."

"Feeling sentimental Da? You must be hungry! Please eat. One more thing, I've worked out the food rations and the elf Nremyn informed me that a second wagon of aid will arrive soon. He has been very helpful with the distributions, and we have a working system for keeping everyone feed and clothed. I shall miss him greatly when he leaves for Mirkwood." She stood and kissed the top of his head as she walked away.

"You have done so well, and I am proud of how you've handled yourself. I have another thing to ask of you my child, if you will entreat your king to one more favor." He swallowed the rest of his tea before continuing. "I would ask you to be my emissary to Erebor. You would travel there, when needed, to seek an audience with King Thorin. I trust you to speak for me and to act on Dale's behalf, as I know you will serve the city well. What do say?"

"You want me to go to Erebor in your place? Why?" She asked, slightly taken aback at his request.

"Because I will have other obligations to tend to here, and because you're infinitely better at politics with dwarves than I could ever hope to be." He grinned at her.

"Very well then, Da. I will be your emissary to Erebor if that is your will." She cast her eyes towards the floor and blushed slightly. The rise in her color made him wonder exactly what it was about Erebor that could produce such a reaction in his daughter. "How are the dwarves finding the Kingdom Under the Mountain? I imagine there is much rebuilding to be done." She asked quickly as she attempted to compose herself.

"The dwarves are an industrious race, and they will be completed with their work long before we are here. Thorin offered us assistance with sowing the fields and cutting stone. I imagine he wants to make recompense for his behavior before the battle." He explained between bites.

"I'm certain he does, Da. Somehow I always knew that he would honor his word. So then, Tilda will certainly want to know how Kili is healing. She will also want news about Bofur and when he plans on making a visit to Dale." The sound of her laughter always had a way of lifting his spirits.

"Fili mentioned that Kili is awake and that Tauriel is recovering. As for Bofur and the others, I did not see them on this trip." He finished the remaining scraps of food on his plate and set the plate on the table.

"How is Fili?" She asked in such a way that made him pause.

"He is well enough. Actually, he asked me how you were fairing and sends his regards." It was his turn to wink and he could not help but smile at Sigrid's reaction to his words.

He stood and raised his arms in a stretch. "I should find Mister Coran and revisit those palace plans. I cannot see myself living in such a domicile, but perhaps we could find a compromise of sorts if I can incorporate elements of town affairs, such as a great hall for meetings and events. Goodbye my sweet child and make sure to give my love to Tilda when she returns from the stables."

He easily found the architect and submitted to some of the plans, while amending others. If he was to be crowned King of Dale, he wanted to build a home in which his children and their children would be both safe and comfortable residing. I just want to do right by my family. He thought. Give them a life that they deserve.

He sighed as rubbed at his sore shoulder, these days were getting longer and he was growing weary; there was still so much to be done and he wondered if he had the resolve to see it through. Once again, he found himself wandering through the ruins of what once was a garden; he enjoyed coming here in the evening and marveled in how the moon light illuminated the moss covered stone pillars and flourishing spiraling vines. He sat down on a bench and looked up at the night sky, watching the stars as they twinkled high above. His thoughts soon turned to his days as a bargeman: When he was standing on the deck of his boat, watching the way the water lapped against the rocks and the chill feeling of the crisp fall air.

"I thought I might find you here." The elegant deep voice of King Thranduil filled the ruins and caused the hair on his arms to rise.

"I like to come here at night. It's a quiet and peaceful place." He replied warmly.

"Would you prefer me to leave you to your solitude?" Thranduil asked as he walked out from the shadows.

"No, please stay. I enjoy your company and you are a welcome sight after such a long day." He smiled at the sight of the elf.

"You looked lost in thought. I was hesitant to disturb you." Thranduil approached slowly, his circlet shining in the moon light.

"I'm glad you did. I was just thinking about my life as a bargeman. Everything was simple then; no meetings, no rebuilding projects to oversee, no one looking to me to be their king." He sighed once more and ran his hand through his hair. "So much has changed and it's all a little overwhelming."

"I became King of The Woodland Realm when my father died. I knew one day that I would inherit the throne, but I still felt unprepared when it happened. Time and experience will change your feelings. You are not entirely unprepared; I saw you negotiating with Thorin back at Erebor as well as making decisions about construction plans here in the city. You are a born leader, whether you believe it or not." Thranduil swept across the stone floor as he spoke.

"I wish I had your confidence." He shook his head.

"I wish you did not run out of Erebor without me. Are the elven kind really so loathsome that you felt the need to flee at the first opportunity?" Thranduil chided.

"You appeared to be otherwise engaged in conversation. I though you would prefer the company of your own kind to mine." He suddenly felt awkward and self-conscious over his reveal.

"Despite what you think, I do not prefer their company. Haladir and I fought side by side an age ago, and I have not seen him since." Thranduil lifted his glorious eyebrow as he spoke. "If you must know, we talked politics mostly; a dreadfully boring conversation."

"I apologize for leaving you then. I believed you were more interested in spending time with the fair Haladir." He confessed reluctantly.

"Fair Haladir?" Thranduil quipped as he whipped around to face him, his face locked in a smirk. "More fair than I?"

"My Lord Thranduil, none are fairer than you." He burst out laughing and the strain of tension between them eased. Thranduil allowed a smile to escape from his lips.

"You are too good to me, Bard, King of Dale." The Elf King said as he brushed the back from his face.

He watched Thranduil's long and delicate fingers flow easily through his long silver hair that was alight with the glow of the moon. In that one moment, he hadn't a care in the world; in that moment, his life was perfect.