As it turned out, the solution to keeping the horses in line was simple: A rope was thrown around each of their necks, the ends of which were tied to a light hitching yoke across their chests. Those not being ridden—there were twenty-five not under direct control of a person—were lined up two-by-two with the odd one at the rear, and more rope was strung down the middle connecting each yoke, the last directly to the horse's bridle.

Téomas and Sigrid (she named her horse Brennil, a Sindarin word for "lady") rode at the fore of the column, while his mother and brother each rode a horse in front of them. Three of the seven young men who'd already joined the company from the northern villages had been conscripted to help Téomas care for the herd, and the one of them with no horse of his own had brokered an agreement that in exchange for his help, he could have one of his choosing for payment. As the journey to Dale was to take several weeks still, Téomas had agreed.

There were a number of folk in Edoras who were sorry to see Breha and her boys go, if only because they had always bred fine steeds. Even the king said he was sorry to see such well-kept stock leave his lands—though Bard suspected his remark had more to do with the departure of his son than the horses. Theirs might be a relationship that was strained at best, but instinct told him there was still love in Fengel's heart for his heir.

Thengel rode beside him as the company moved out, and Bard was not remiss to the way the prince relaxed visibly almost as soon as they passed through the city gate. He conversed easily with the other man, much to his delight. His companion asked him what life had been like in Lake-town, what his plans were for Dale, and whether he was looking forward to the day his people would crown him King.

"I do not want to be a king," he confessed. "In truth, I did not even desire to be the master of my people, despite the nobility of my lineage. But leadership, whether I wished for it or not, had fallen into my hands after the dragon came. Over the days that first followed, I apparently made such an impression on my kin that they declared they would have me for a king. Seeing that I could not change their minds, I then resolved to do my utmost to earn their faith in me.

"It is why, my Lord, I have undertaken this journey. Dale will have need of strong ties to other lands in years to come. Those who pledge themselves in friendship to us will certainly receive our aid in return, when we are able to provide it."

Thengel nodded. "Your cause is noble and just, Lord Bard. And as I believe you to be a man of good character, I would happily ally Rohan with Dale. But I am not yet the king of my people, and such an accord can only be made by the king. Sadly, my father is not like to agree to any such alliance if there is no immediate benefit for him—of this I know you are already aware, as you are leaving now and I know that none has been made."

The prince sighed. "It is one reason, among many, that I keep residence in Gondor, the land of my mother's birth. I do not agree with many of my father's policies, and that has led to more disagreements between us than I care to count. I visit with him a few times each year, but regrettably, as soon as I arrive I find myself counting the days until I depart."

With a shake of his frame, Thengel wiped the brooding expression from his face and looked to Bard with a smile. "Tell me, Bard—is there a maiden among your people on whom you have your eye? Though you have already taken a wife who sadly passed too soon, you are still of an age to keep a woman happy for many years yet. A good king has need of a fine queen to rule beside him, and if I am not mistaken, that Dorna lass would certainly have you if you would but take notice of her."

"If that is so, then I am afraid she sets herself up for disappointment," Bard replied with more bite than he intended. "For Dorna knows as well as anyone in my company that no such attentions will be received from me."

Thengel studied him in silence for a long moment. "I take it you have been recently disappointed, mellon nín?" he asked quietly.

Bristling unintentionally at the prince's use of Sindarin, which he had learned was widely spoken in Gondor, Bard gave himself a hard mental shake. Too bad, he mused, that he could not so easily dismiss the annoying hum in the back of his mind that told him he was yet still connected to the cause of his torment.

"Forgive me," Thengel said then, apparently mistaking his silence for a refusal to answer. "I should not have made so personal a query."

"It's quite all right," Bard replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You are right, I was disappointed, and all too recently. I will spare you the details, but suffice it to say, the end was most unexpected on my part."

"I am sorry to have reminded you of it. Such sad news makes me reluctant to share with you my own joy."

Glancing over, Bard said, "If you have a lady friend whom you have a great affection for, please do not hesitate to speak of her on my account. I would be glad to hear of the joy of others rather than dwell on my own sadness."

With these words, Thengel brightened considerably, and launched into a monologue about Morwen, a beautiful young lady of noble blood whom he had met but a month prior. Bard listened with only half an ear; though he nodded or commented where appropriate, his heart really wasn't in the conversation.

Much as he was reluctant to admit it, it still lay in the hands of an elleth who wandered somewhere west of the Misty Mountains.

That night, as she had every night for the last ten days, Tilda began to cry almost as soon as she lay down to sleep. And, as every night, it was no less than a solid quarter hour before her sobs fell silent.

Bard sat on a log by the fire in front of his tent, seething with anger. It was bad enough that Tauriel had chosen to abandon him without offering any kind of an explanation, thereby breaking the heart he had so foolishly just handed over to her. That he would get over, in time. But the sound of his little girl's tears was like daggers to his soul, and her heartbreak was something he was not sure he had it in him to forgive.

Sigrid stepped out of the tent when Tilda had quieted and plopped down next to him with a ragged sigh. Bard said nothing as she wiped furiously at the tears falling down her own cheeks.

"When is it going to end, Da?" she asked. "When is it going to stop hurting that she's gone?"

With a sigh of his own, his heart breaking just a little more at the sound of her anguish, he reached over to put an arm around her shoulders and drew Sigrid to him.

"I wish I knew, my sweet girl," he said. "And I am sorry I have not offered you or your sister more comfort. It's just so damn difficult to comfort another when I am still hurting myself."

"Like when Mam died?"

"'Tis not the same kind of pain," Bard replied. "The difference is, when your mother died I knew why she was gone. With Tauriel, I just don't understand. Everything was going so well, and then…"

His voice trailed off. He would tell no one what he and Galadriel had discussed, though Bain had asked him about it and Bard had declined to answer his son. He wished the Lady of Lórien had never allowed Tauriel to look into that blasted mirror she'd spoken of—whatever the hell it was—because if she hadn't, his family wouldn't be hurting.

And he wouldn't be missing her so much that at times he could barely breathe.

"I almost wish I hated her, you know," Sigrid was saying. "If I hated her, it wouldn't hurt so much. I wouldn't be missing her to the point that I just want her to come back. But I can't hate her, Da. I love her too much."

Bard tightened his hold when her breath hitched and she sniffled, and he felt the sting of tears he could not blame on the fire behind his own eyes as he said, "I know exactly how you feel."

The two fell silent, and for several minutes Bard listened absently to the sounds of the company as they settled in for the night. He was about to suggest to Sigrid that she take herself to bed when Téomas approached. Sigrid sat up straight and patted at her hair before she smiled up at him.

"I will not keep you as the hour is late, but when I saw you sitting here I thought I would come and bid you good night, my Lady. And you of course, Lord Bard," the boy said, his gaze holding Sigrid's with a smile.

"Good night, Master Téomas," Sigrid replied softly. "I do hope you sleep well."

"Sweetest of dreams to you, Lady Sigrid." With a nod at Bard, who observed the exchange with a light smile, Téomas turned and walked back the way he had come.

Sigrid watched him go with a sigh. A moment later, Bard felt her eyes on him, and so he turned to her to ask, "Something on your mind?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, yes," she began, and he could tell she was suddenly nervous. "Da… does it bother you at all, me and Téomas?"

He snorted lightly. "Beyond the fact that I've no real desire to admit my little girl is growing up and becoming a woman, why should it?"

"Well, he wishes to court me, though I know he has not formally asked your permission as yet. And I like him so very much, Da, though I admit I'm surprised by my willingness to be courted, what with Tauriel leaving and hurting you like she did…"

When Sigrid cast her eyes down at her hands, which she twisted in her lap, Bard turned and took them in his, waiting until she looked up again to say, "Sigrid, I adore you for caring about my feelings, but what happened between Tauriel and I should in no way affect whatever desire you may have to court or be courted. Do not dare let my pain and discontent lead your heart—if truly you desire to allow this boy's suit of you, then by all means, dearest, embrace your affection for him. I would very much rather you were happy than wallowing in misery at my side."

Though a look of concern still danced in her eyes, he saw also a spark of joy. She was indeed growing up, his little girl, and the fact that she was so concerned for his feelings on her own happiness said so much to him about her character—it said that for all of his mistakes, he'd at least done one thing right.

Tune in again on Monday for the return of Tauriel...