Here you go, everyone: another "laptop" story. This was written after a prompt from yelloweeee who wanted to hear all about Lostwithiel as a father when he looked after little Rosie. Effective? Efficient? Calm? In control? I'm sure you've guessed, LOL! And what happens if you write a laptop story about the past?
And I can't tell you how much pleasure it gives me to get a review. Your thoughts (and any new prompts) are always very welcome.
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All About Thorin…..And Everyone Else
The Elf Lord and the Toddler
Pt I
Thorin and Tauriel were back at the forge quite early the day after the crisis between Poppy and Lostwithiel had apparently been sorted. The dwarf had had a pretty bad night – well, a lot of it had been bad, although there had been some good bits too – a number of good bits, he grinned to himself – but his main aim was to get out of the tree house and back into his own bed as soon as possible.
As Thorin and his wife entered by the front door, Lostwithiel staggered out bleary-eyed from the bedroom. "Is everything all right between you two now?" asked Tauriel with a smile. "I tried to put Poppy in a forgiving mood when I wrote my part of the story."
"Umm, getting there," muttered Lostwithiel. "But I feel as if I'm walking on eggshells."
"Well," observed Thorin cheerfully, noting the dark circles under his son-in-law's eyes, and winking at him, "you look as though you've been up half the night 'resolving' your differences."
"Only talking," sighed the handsome elf. "I'm really trying. She's just sent me to fetch her tea and toast. I think that waiting on her hand and foot will be part of the punishment."
Thorin let out a shout of laughter. "I think you'll be paying for your mistake for a long time yet."
"What mistake?" yawned Rosie as she came in from the stable.
Thorin came to Lostwithiel's rescue. "Oh, you know, Rosie, us husbands are always making mistakes as far as our wives are concerned." And the elf lord threw him a grateful look.
"Grandfather!" exclaimed Rosie, momentarily distracted. "You're back! Is that why you didn't return to the stable last night?" she asked Tauriel. And she gave them both a hug.
"Yes," smiled Thorin, returning the hug. "I came back in the middle of the night and we got involved in a bit of a ….discussion." And he threw a quick, apologetic look at Tauriel.
Rosie was feeling a lot better after a good night's sleep and she went off into the kitchen with her father to help with breakfast. The door opened again and Arion, hand in hand with Mary-Sue, came into the room, with Arion staring in such an infatuated way into his beloved's eyes that he nearly tripped over the threshold. Thorin rolled up his eyes. "Love's young dream," he muttered and Tauriel kicked him under the table.
"Have a good night then?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you," smiled Mary-Sue sweetly. "Very good." And she blushed.
"Mahal preserve us," thought her father-in-law-to-be. "I wonder how long it'll be before they all build their own homes and move out?"
Tauriel wandered into the bedroom and found Poppy sitting up in bed, waiting for her husband to bring her a breakfast tray. Her mother sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand. "I hear you two are making progress," she said.
"I suppose we are," replied her daughter, "but I don't want 'Thiel to get over-confident." Then she gave one of her sly smiles. "I shall keep him on his toes for a bit and make the most of the situation."
The elf laughed but then squeezed her hand and said seriously: "Don't push him too far, Poppy. He's suffered a lot already."
Poppy tossed her head. "In what way?" she asked. "You're the victim, mother, and I've suffered considerably since he told me his secret last night."
Tauriel put an arm about her daughter's shoulders and leaned back against the bedhead with her. "But he's suffered for years and years, Poppy. Isn't that punishment enough?"
"Perhaps…but that was a very wicked thing he did and it's very hard to let him off the hook."
"But," replied Tauriel, "he was going through a very confused phase and he had no mother or father to guide him. They died years earlier and, if he could have talked to someone, then perhaps things wouldn't have happened. It's very unusual, you know, for an elf to lose one parent, let alone two."
Poppy wrinkled her forehead. "I hadn't thought about that, you know," she mused. "I've still got you, haven't I? And I'll probably always have you." Then her face softened: "Poor 'Thiel," she said.
Lostwithiel came in at that moment, carrying her tea and toast and Tauriel left them to it. Poppy picked up a slice of toast and nibbled an edge thoughtfully. Then she replaced the toast on the plate and handed the tray back to her husband. "Is there something wrong with it?" asked the elf worriedly. "Would you like something else?"
"Yes, Thiel," she said, "I would like something else. But that involves you taking this rather heavy tray from me, placing it on that chest and getting back into bed."
Lostwithiel looked at her blankly for a moment, then he grinned, moved the tray and threw back the coverlet on the bed.
"You're a bit slow sometimes," said his wife, as she took him in her arms.
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Pt II
Two hours later and everyone was up, breakfasted, washed and dressed, and sitting around the dining table. The laptop sat staring at them and they all stared at the laptop.
"So, who's going to write the next story?" asked Thorin.
"Me," said Lostwithiel. "I haven't even touched the thing yet."
Thorin glared at him. "I'm not quite sure I can trust you," he said. "What's this story going to be about, then?"
"Well," said the elf, leaning back in his chair with his eyes half closed and a dreamy smile on his face, "I thought I'd write a lovely romance."
"Oh, goody," said his daughter, clapping her hands together. "Will it be about me?"
"No, sorry, chicken," replied Lostwithiel. "It will be a tragic story of love across the divide."
"Divide!" snorted Thorin. "What divide?"
"The divide that exists between elf and dwarf."
"No!" snapped Thorin. "You will NOT write a story about me and Tauriel."
"Of course not," said Lostwithiel, looking indignant. "This will be about the forbidden love that develops unexpectedly between a handsome, blond-haired elf lord and a grumpy dwarf."
"Legolas and Gimli!" roared Arion. "I thought they seemed pretty friendly on that ship from the Grey Havens!"
"Try again," grinned Lostwithiel. "This story will follow the traditional course: dwarf meets elf – dwarf hates elf and elf hates dwarf – then, after many misunderstandings and a stolen kiss, they realise they are in love with each other."
"No," said Thorin firmly.
"It will be so romantic…"
"No, don't you dare!" Thorin shouted more loudly.
"And their love will be so powerful, defying all conventions of society, that…"
"No-o-o-!"
"…they abandon everyone and everything and…"
"I'll kill you, Lostwithiel!"
"…and live, cast out, but wonderfully in love until the end of time."
The whole family was sighing romantically by then. "That's just so wonderful," said Rosie as Lostwithiel opened the laptop. But Thorin stretched swiftly across the table and seized the elf by the collar, snapping down the lid on his fingers.
"Don't you dare touch that keyboard!" he roared.
"Ow!" said Lostwithiel, sucking his injured digits.
Everyone looked taken aback at Thorin's behaviour. Thorin glared into Lostwithiel's eyes and snarled: "One accidental kiss doesn't make for a searing romance."
The elf stared back at him. "Doesn't it?" he asked, looking quite crestfallen. "Ah, the cruel rejection of it all!"
And then he burst out laughing.
"I really got you going there, didn't I?" he chuckled. And Thorin sat back on his chair, glowering and looking very unamused.
"NOT funny," he said. "That story would have been just like you." And he went into a sulk.
The rest of them looked from one to the other – and then the penny dropped. The laughter didn't subside for at least five minutes and Thorin's scowl only deepened.
"Oh, come on, my love," grinned Tauriel, kissing him on the cheek. "You've got to admit that we all had a jolly good laugh."
"At my expense," growled the dwarf. But, after a bit of huffing, Thorin finally looked up and asked: "So what WILL your story be about, then?"
Lostwithiel smiled broadly. "Well, it's going to be a flash-back to something that has already happened and it does include you, Rosie."
Rosie giggled. "I'm not sure that I trust you either, father…But, I suppose that, if it's already happened, it can't be too bad. Just be careful what sort of slant you give to things. Nothing silly or naughty."
"As if I'd be mean about my own daughter," said Lostwithiel, the picture of innocence. And then he opened the laptop and began.
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The Elf Lord and the Toddler
"Right," said Poppy. "I've left a list of things to do on the table." And she looked down severely at her husband who was sitting on the floor, facing little Rosie. The child was just over a year old and this was the first time that her mother had left her completely in the care of the elf lord.
Poppy pulled on her gloves and slung the hem of her riding habit over her arm. She was going down to her father's old forge at the crossroads of Ered Luin to look after her sister and her sister's two children because Rose was unwell and Aunt Dis couldn't cope. Nothing else would have persuaded her to leave Rosie in the sole care of her father.
Thorin's daughter never imagined that she would put someone else before herself but, the minute that Rosie was born, the baby became the centre of her world: now, it was Rosie first, herself second and 'Thiel last. The elf didn't mind. He knew what his wife was like and she always seemed to have plenty of love left over for him once she had taken herself and their child into consideration. And, anyway, he put Rosie first too….not that he would ever let Poppy know that: he didn't fully understand the workings of his wife's mind and he wasn't taking any chances.
"The list will tell you everything you need to do over the course of the day – and the night – and there are suggestions for what to do in tricky situations."
"Yes, dear," said Lostwithiel.
He didn't know whether to be excited or scared to have Rosie all to himself. After the baby had been born, he had expected to become a drudge, with Poppy lying in bed half the day, claiming to be exhausted, whilst he ran himself ragged looking after both her and the baby and staying up half the night to help with the feeds.
But, it was Poppy who ran herself ragged. She immediately became possessive and didn't trust the baby with anyone else, in particular the elf lord, it seemed. The proud new mother would hardly let the child out of her arms, was the one to feed and change her and dress her and the one who took on her sole care at night. "I'll go!" she would say, the minute the baby started crying. And she would leap out of bed and tell her husband to go back to sleep. "I'll call you if I need you," she said. But she never did.
At first, Lostwithiel didn't mind. After all, it seemed to give his wife so much pleasure to nurse the baby and who wouldn't want a good night's sleep? But slowly he began to feel excluded and, when he did help, he felt awkward and clumsy, which meant that Poppy tutted at his efforts and he just became even clumsier. Over the past year or so, he had hardly held his daughter, let alone changed or fed her. And now he was going to be all on his own.
"Just don't drop her!" were Poppy's last words as she marched out the door.
The pretty child looked over her shoulder as she heard the door bang; then she looked back at her father; and then she realised that the two of them were alone. She stared uncertainly at him for a moment and then her face crumpled and she burst into tears: "Mum-meee!" she cried.
Lostwithiel began to panic.
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Pt III
The elf lord tried waving a rattle and various other toys under Rosie's nose, but this didn't work. "Daddy's here! Daddy's here!" he reassured her frantically. But her face grew redder and her sobs louder. He leaped to his feet and picked her up, jiggling her on his arm and walking backwards and forwards across the room. She would momentarily subside, burying her head in his shoulder and almost falling asleep with exhaustion. But, then she would jerk awake, raise her head to stare at his face for a moment and, when she discovered that he still wasn't her mother, would start the dreadful screaming again.
With his daughter perched on his hip, Lostwithiel picked up the list of instructions and scanned it, desperately looking for advice on how to stop a toddler from crying. But nothing was immediately apparent. His eye drifted down to "Midday lunch". Well, it was nearly midday – well, 11 o'clock – so perhaps he could bring that forward a bit. Everyone knew that food was comforting. The added bonus was that she became tired after a meal and he could put her to sleep in her cot for a bit.
He hurried with Rosie into the kitchen and found the food that Poppy had left for him to warm through and a water bath already simmering gently on top of the stove. If only Agnes, the housekeeper, were here to help out. But Agnes, by a piece of bad timing, was away in the Grey Havens for the week, visiting some of her relatives. He carefully placed the bowl of food in the water bath and then took Rosie to the window in an attempt to amuse her whilst her lunch was heating.
She was momentarily distracted by the leaves on a nearby tree fluttering in the breeze.
"Ooo, look, Rosie! Look at the little bird sitting in the tree!" The child stared at the bird for a minute until it flew away and, of course, its loss only upset her again.
"Ooo, look at the big white cloud in the sky! It looks like a heffalump! Do you see the heffalump, Rosie?"
Rosie stared intently at the cloud, but, no, she couldn't see any heffalump. And, when she couldn't find it, then she cried in disappointment.
"No heffalump!" she wailed.
The elf tried the dining room next where a large harp was standing in the corner. He ran a hand gently over the strings and her attention was immediately caught by the beautiful sound. For the next five minutes, she was absorbed by the instrument and her father let her run her fingers across the strings too. But her efforts were a lot more jangly and she looked up expectantly at her father. "Daddy do," she demanded. And she allowed the elf to put her down on the floor whilst he plucked at the strings and sang her a song.
When he had finished, she clapped her hands in glee and Lostwithiel felt a tremendous sense of satisfaction that his daughter was such an appreciative admirer of his skills. But he could see her getting restless and so they returned to the kitchen where he was relieved to find her lunch ready.
He placed her in her special baby chair and, picking up the bowl and a spoon, first tested it to make sure it wasn't too hot – he wasn't THAT stupid. Then he proffered it to her. Unfortunately, Poppy wasn't yet very hungry after a rather substantial breakfast. When she just turned her head away, Lostwithiel knew he would have to try something that would tempt her. He would play "the horse goes into the stable" game which he had seen Rose use when her children refused their food.
"Here comes the horse," he sang. And Rosie turned her head back towards the spoon. "Trot-trot, trot-trot, trot-trot." She waited expectantly. "A-a-a-nd OPEN the stable door!" he exclaimed and she automatically opened her mouth. "And IN goes the horse!" Lostwithiel shoved the spoon into her mouth and heaved a sigh of relief when she swallowed it and didn't spit it out.
Her delight in the game meant that they got through nearly the entire bowl before she started to refuse the food again. He picked her up and began nursing her, first offering her a drink from her special baby mug and then rocking her gently and singing her a lullaby. With a huge sigh of relief, he saw that her eyes quickly closed and he quietly walked to the nursery next door and placed her in the cot which she used during the day.
The triumphant father then crept from the room and went back to the kitchen to make himself a hot drink as a reward for his pains. But as he relaxed in a chair and brought the cup to his lips, to his horror, the screaming started all over again. But….but….she wasn't supposed to wake up for at least two hours. When Poppy fed her and put her down, she went out like a light!
Slapping his mug down, he ran to the nursery, only to find that Rosie had been sick. All the food that she just hadn't wanted had been vomited over the sheets and coverlet. Lostwithiel grabbed her up, put her over his shoulder and patted her back…and a second lot pumped up all over his shirt.
The next 10 minutes were chaotic. He stripped off his shirt, stripped the cot, stripped Rosie and changed her nappy while he was at it – another revolting chore. He decided that women's noses must work differently and that this made them more suitable for carrying out such domestic tasks. Then, after redressing Rosie in clothes that were kept in the nursery, he placed all the soiled linen in a bowl to soak, then wearily carried her up the stairs where he placed her on the bed and put on a clean shirt.
She glowered at him from her position on the bed and Lostwithiel knew that she was about to start wailing again. The instruction sheet had also listed "Playtime with Beren" and this seemed like a good idea. He would take her up to the family quarters at the outpost and there they would visit Challis and her young son, Beren. Surely Challis would help him or at least keep him company whilst he struggled through the day?
.o00o.
Challis was startled when she answered the knock at her door to find a dishevelled Lostwithiel on her doorstep clutching a grumpy-looking Rosie.
"Rose is ill," explained the elf lord, "and Poppy has gone off to help for a day or so. She suggested," and he looked hopeful, "that I should bring Rosie up to play with Beren."
The pretty elf grinned. "Having a hard time, 'Thiel?" she asked. He was now the captain of the outpost and controlled her husband and the other elves with a firm hand. But, at the moment, he seemed to be having trouble controlling his daughter.
"Ummm," said Lostwithiel, and he shuffled his feet. Then he gave a wry answering grin and said, "How did you guess?"
"Oh, the food in the hair, the dribble on your shirt, the faint smell of baby sick?" And she laughed and opened the door wide. The elf hurried gratefully inside.
Beren was three, a strapping little boy, and he looked up with interest as Rosie was brought into the room and was placed on the floor with him and his toys. For a short time, the little girl was absorbed by the new objects scattered around her and the elf lord sighed with relief as he had the time to sit back, relax a little and drink the cup of tea that Challis brought him.
He and Challis were old comrades: they had been through a lot together, trying to protect the borders of Ered Luin, and now they chatted in an easy and amiable way. So far, the only elves amongst the dozen who manned the outpost to get married and have a child were Challis and Lithin and they now occupied the spacious married quarters that had been built adjacent to the stables of the old farmhouse. Challis enjoyed it there. She never felt lonely with all her old friends at hand to visit her in their spare time and help out if necessary. Beren loved it too and liked being fussed over and made the centre of attention. Poppy and Rosie also enjoyed similar attention, although Poppy's manor house was built slightly further away and she thought that the captain's lady should remain slightly more aloof than Challis. However, it was very difficult to remain aloof, she discovered, with a group who had known her since birth.
The two elves watched their children with amusement as they played together. Beren had begun to learn certain social skills and he graciously allowed Rosie to play with all his toys. But, finally, she snatched one desirable object out of his hands and wouldn't give it back. After a number of attempts to distract her so that the toy could be returned to Beren who was beginning to look upset, Lostwithiel finally took it from her and said firmly: "Beren's!" Immediately she began to scream and Lostwithiel sent a harassed look to Challis who just smiled calmly and suggested that they take them both outside to play on the front lawn.
In front of the building was a lovely stretch of grass that offered a sweeping view of the surrounding countryside. Challis often brought Beren to play in this spot and they would wave to any of the elven troop who passed by on their way to the stables. To this verdant lawn they now removed themselves and Rosie soon forgot her tears amidst the activity. Lithin and Borondin came past, returning from a patrol, and led their horses to the stables.
"A-a-a-n-d OPEN the stable door," sang Rosie, remembering the food game from the morning. "And IN goes the horse!"
Lithin's horse, a big, black creature was being led because it had damaged a fetlock. The children were fascinated by the horses but Lithin warned them all: "Don't come near him – he's in pain and very bad-tempered. I'm going to the kitchen to prepare a poultice." And after the two elves had given their horses a quick rub-down, they disappeared off into the farmhouse.
The children were now feeling sleepy in the sun and were playing quietly. This is easy, thought Lostwithiel. But Challis needed to prepare a meal for later that evening and asked him if he could look after both children for a short time. "No problem," said Lostwithiel, full of new confidence. Beren and Rosie played happily for a few minutes after Challis had disappeared inside and then Rosie threw a toy off the grass and onto the gravel. With an indignant exclamation, Beren got up and toddled after it, but, as he reached the gravel path, he tripped and fell, letting out a yell of pain.
With a muttered expletive and a guilty feeling that he had let Challis down, Lostwithiel leaped to his feet and ran to help the crying boy. When he lifted Beren from the ground, he saw that he had cut his knee and he fumbled for a handkerchief and began dabbing at the blood whilst making soothing noises. In the end, Beren's crying changed to erratic gulps and sniffs. Better take them both in, thought the elf, and let Challis see to it. But, when he turned, there was no sign of Rosie – anywhere.
Absolutely terrified, he yelled for Challis, ran for her front door and thrust the bemused Beren into his mother's arms as she appeared there. "Rosie's gone!" he gasped.
He ran across the lawn with arms and legs wildly flailing. "Rosie!" he yelled. At that moment, he heard a neighing from the stable and then, to his horror, saw that the door was ajar. It was at this point that he knew for a certainty where Rosie had gone. He flung the stable door open – and then stopped in his tracks. Lithin's horse, tied up in one of the horse boxes with its rump towards him, was fidgeting and trying to rear. Its fetlock hurt and it knew there was something down there, between its legs. It was Rosie, of course, trapped beneath the horse and looking very frightened. Lostwithiel plunged forward, bent down and grabbed her. But the horse, sensing a new danger at its rear, rolled its eyes and lashed out with a hoof. As the elf pulled his daughter to safety, the hoof clipped his forehead and, stunned, he reeled away, falling backwards in the straw with Rosie clasped in his arms.
The blood trickled down into his left eye but he managed to crawl away to safety, just as Lithin, with Challis and Beren peering anxiously over his shoulder, rushed to his aid. Back in the family quarters, Challis repaired the damage whilst Lithin looked after the children. Lostwithiel was distraught. "She could have been killed and it would have been all my fault," he cried.
"Don't be too hard on yourself," said Challis soothingly. "You need eyes in the back of your head when you're a parent. And no harm has been done."
"Except to my head," said the elf, pulling a face.
It was late afternoon by then. "I think the best thing," said Challis, "is if I make Rosie some hot milk and you a sandwich. And then you can carry her down the hill on your shoulder to bring up any wind. Too much food might make her sick again. Lithin will come with you and move her upstairs cot from her bedroom to yours where you can reach her easily if she wakes in the night. Then both of you should try to get a good night's sleep."
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Pt IV
Rosie was practically asleep on her father's shoulder as they reached the manor. Lithin did the furniture removals and wished his captain good luck before he left. Then Lostwithiel changed his daughter into her nightgown and put her down in her cot where she immediately fell into a deep and exhausted slumber. After that, he got ready for bed himself and, with a throbbing head, crawled between the sheets. They both slept heavily for hours but, just before dawn, she began to stir. Bleary-eyed, the elf picked her up and brought her into bed with him and they both fell fast asleep again.
It was mid-morning and they were still dead to the world when Poppy came home. Rose had made a good recovery the previous evening and so Poppy, anxious to see both her husband and her child, had set out for her manor at the crack of dawn. The house was unexpectedly quiet when she opened the front door. She felt suddenly anxious. Surely they're up by now, she thought? She mounted the stairs to their bedroom and was met by the sight of her husband sprawled across the coverlet whilst their daughter snored gently on his chest. They both looked so sweet together that she stood in the doorway and watched them for a while until Lostwithiel finally stirred and opened his eyes.
"I'm glad you're back," he smiled.
"I'm glad I'm back too," said Poppy, returning his smile.
.o00o.
(Lostwithiel was too lost in thought, remembering the past, and didn't notice that Thorin had placed a hand on his shoulder. "Did that really happen?" asked the dwarf. It was late evening and everyoneelse had gone to bed, leaving the elf to his typing.
"Yes," said Lostwithiel, lifting a lock of golden hair to reveal a silvery scar almost hidden under the hair-line. "At the time, I told Poppy that I had cut my head, bending down to retrieve Rosie from under the kitchen table. Now she'll know differently and I'll probably be in trouble again."
"Sounds like a bad day," said Thorin quietly.
"It was even worse than I've described. I hoped that, by moderating the story, I could wipe out some of the memories. But, it hasn't worked and it looks like you can't change the past. I was a hopeless father, you know," was the elf's response.
Thorin pulled a face. "Then we all are. That story brings back memories of similar awful days when I was left in charge."
"Thought you were supposed to be the perfect father," laughed the elf lord.
"Well, I was, of course – but only as perfect as it's possible to be when children are involved. You sound very like me in that respect." And the one-time King under the Mountain patted his friend in a kindly fashion on the shoulder and went off to the bedroom where his wife lay waiting for him.)
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