Chapter Eleven
.
.
SUMMARY: In which we backtrack a bit and see what went on in Dale while Daeron and Rhian were off on their honeymoon.
Turamarth spends the day babysitting his adorable little nephew. Piece of cake, right?
And do you remember that casual mention of the Elven blacksmith who came to Dale last summer? Well, you're about to meet him!
.
.
But you're so far away
Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?
It would be so fine to see your face at my door
And it doesn't help to know you're so far away…
-"(You're So) Far Away," by Carole King
.
.
City of Dale, 17th of May 2944 T.A.
After Daeron and Rhian left for their honeymoon, their guests from the Golden Wood enjoyed their time in Dale. Turamarth often served as host, though Evranin was always with her brother and the others, so their conversation never got past the basic niceties.
But on the morning, he was supposed to babysit Darryn, he finally, finally had his chance…
.
Ben had to work at the Castle that day, and Hannah had to see some patients. It had been Tur's day off, so he graciously volunteered to watch the baby, and was at the City Planner's home at 10:00 sharp.
"Good morning, pet!" Hannah let him in the house. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"
"Of course, I am!" He kissed both her cheeks. "Where is my favorite nephew?" He called into the back rooms. "Darryn? Where are you?"
His answer was an excited, "Unca Tur!" and the little boy came barreling into the Sitting room and wrapped his arms and legs around the Elf's leg.
"There he is!" He made a growling noise, lifted his foot up, and Darryn hung on, laughing. "Did you eat all your breakfast?"
"Uh huh!" He grinned up at him. "Again!"
"What would you like to do today?" As he stomped around.
"I want de Park!" Darryn let go go his leg and held his arms up. "Can I swing?"
"Ask your Granny nicely," Tur scooped him up, then looked at Hannah. "Can we? Please?" He gave her a huge, teethy grin.
"Pweese?" Darryn echoed.
Hannah rolled her eyes and shook her head. "It's a nice day, and I don't see why not. Don't let him go on the climbing bars. He can swing, but only if you sit him on your lap, all right? He's not old enough to hang on tight."
"I think we can do that." He grinned. "Would you like to swing?"
"Weeee!" Darryn threw his arms up.
"And that's exactly why you have to hold him. Now, he's had his breakfast, and had a good poop, so you don't have to worry about that. We're trying to teach him how to use the potty, so make sure you take him to the privy fairly often, but here's a bag with some extra clothes and some washcloths, just in case. If you go, pack some snacks, like an apple."
"I was thinking of taking him to Adila's for lunch. She makes some nice sandwiches."
"That sounds fine, but he's not to have any coffee or tea."
"Why not?"
"Because it'll stunt his growth," she told him. You never give little kids that stuff."
"But Elven children—"
"—are not human children, pet." Hannah waved a finger at him. "He can have milk, juice or water; that's it."
Turamarth made a frowny face at the little boy, who stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry at him.
"And get him right back here after lunch, so he can take his nap. You've got your key?"
"I have it right here," Tur patted his pocket.
"Good. Darryn likes to be read to, when you lay him down for his nap, and you can sing, as long as you stick with songs that will help him relax. Nothing fast or exciting. And above all: make sure he has his blankie with him, or Valar help you, and whatever you do, don't lose it!" She closed her leather bag and came over to him. "I'll be at the Healing House, unless there's an emergency, so if you run into any problems—"
"Oh, we will be fine." He jiggled the boy. "How much trouble can one baby be?"
"Famous last words," she rolled her eyes. "You're about to find out." Hannah laughed, then kissed Darryn. "Will you be good for Uncle Tur?"
"Uh huh!" he touched his lips to her cheek. "Bye, Gwanny!"
"I'll see you both later." She went through the door and down the sidewalk. "Love you!"
"Do not worry; we will be fine!" he called, then turned to his nephew. "We are on our own, Pinig! Are we going to have a fun day?"
"Park!" The baby clapped his hands. "Yay!"
"Yay!" he laughed, as he picked up Darryn's nappy-bag and locked the front door behind him. He carried the boy down to the end of the street and headed through the Market Square when the sight of the Galadhrim visitors got their attention.
"Good morning!" He called out to Ruvyn, who was giving their guests a tour of the shops. They were in front of Adila's Coffee Shop when they turned and saw him wave.
"Woobin!" Darryn yelled at the Guard and waved at him. "Hi, Woobin!"
The child held out his arms, and Ruvyn grabbed him and swung him in the air. "Hello, Darryn! Can you say hello to our friends from the Golden Wood?"
"Hewwo," he said with a smile.
"This is Lady Rhian's son, is he not?" Orlin asked.
"And my nephew," Turamarth said proudly as he tousled the little boy's hair. "His grandparents have to work today, so it is my turn to spoil him."
"He is adorable!" Evranin lost a little of her shyness and smiled at Darryn, as she wiggled his foot. "Hello!"
He reached out and stroked her long blonde hair. "Pwetty."
"Why thank you…"
"His name is Darryn."
Evranin looked up at him with curiosity. "You mean, like…"
"Darryn is the Westron version of Daeron, yes." Tur explained. "It is a long story, but a good one."
Their last meeting at the wedding was too awkward to think about, but she seemed surprisingly at ease today, so Turamarth decided to take the plunge. "We were just going to the children's park, so he can play; would you like to come along?"
"I am not sure…" she looked at her brother.
"Penlod and I are going on a tour of the Healing House, and Ruvyn is taking Orophin and Haldir to the practice yard." Orlin said, then asked his sister. "I know you were just being polite, so if you would rather go with them…"
Evranin chewed her lower lip, and Turamarth's heart thumped. Please come please come please come… "We will be in the Park for a few hours, then I was thinking of taking him out for lunch here," he waved to the steps of Adila's shop. "You are more than welcome to join us, Evranin."
Please come please come please come…
"I do not want to impose…"
"It will be no imposition. It is a lovely warm day, and the flowers are in bloom in the Gardens at the Park; perhaps when we are finished, I can show them to you?"
"Why don't you go, Gwathel?" Orlin urged her.
"I will, then." She nodded. "If it is no trouble?"
"Of course not." He smiled at the baby. "Darryn may she come to the park with us?"
Darryn nodded enthusiastically. "Uh huh!"
Turamarth took the child from Ruvyn and settled him in his arms. "Go on, all of you, we are off to have some real fun!"
"If you need me, I'll be with Master Ermon," Orlin kissed her cheek. "Otherwise, I will see you in Adila's store in a couple of hours."
"Have a good time," she smiled to her brother and the others, "Goodbye, for now!"
With Darryn balanced on one hip, he offered his other elbow to the Elleth and they walked through the Market then down the streets toward the playground. Evranin insisted upon carrying the baby's bag, and the little boy pointed and demanded to know the names of everything. Tur gave him the Westron and Sindarin words for lamp (calar), street (mên), wagon (rach), and horse (lobor). Each time he repeated them, Evranin praised him with applause.
"Yaaaay!" Darryn clapped. "Wha's your name?" he asked the Elleth.
"I am Evranin," she smiled.
"Ebw…" he tried.
"My family calls me Evvy. Can you say that? Evvy?"
"Ebby!"
"It's as close as you're going to get," Tur laughed.
"He is terribly sweet. How old is he?"
"Two years and five months."
She gasped. "Is that all? He is so grown for one so young!"
"Children of Men age much differently than Elflings." Tur told her. "To our kind, he would be about eight years of age, would he not?"
"Last year, some children from Harad came to stay in Lothlórien," she told him. "They were the first human children I had ever seen. Our people took care of them until the King's brother came to take them home."
"I know." He shook his head sadly. "We also helped some of those children, here. All the Kings of the North were kind to them." He gave her a serious look. "You know what they were put through?"
"I do. A little bit, anyway. We were cautioned not to speak of it." She squared her shoulders. "Daeron helped my brother take care of them, and I visited them often and read them stories."
"My cousin tells me Orlin and Penlod are excellent Healers." He smiled in her direction. "I thought you might be one as well, but I would guess not, since you did not want to see the facilities here?"
"Oh, no; I do not like… gory things." She gave a little shudder. "I work as a scribe in the Libraries. My father is the Archivist for the Lord and Lady."
"And do you like the work?"
"Oh, yes! I love books!" she smiled. "So many different stories there are, of people and places all over Middle Earth. I have loved to read since I was very small."
"Really?" he grinned.
"May I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"You call Darryn your nephew, but I thought he was your cousin?"
"That is true, but Daeron and I were raised like brothers. Our mothers are identical twins and very close."
"I saw them during the wedding. You must have spent a great deal of time together."
"We all lived in the same set of rooms. Lord Thranduil gave permission for our parents to remove the wall between our apartments, and," he shrugged, "Daeron and I had four parents together, instead of two apiece. We are blessed with such a close family," he smiled down at the little boy, who tucked his head against his chest. "And now it has gotten bigger. Since Rhian and Daeron became engaged, Darryn has called me 'Uncle Tur,' and I feel proud to be so."
"You said the child was named after Daeron?"
"He was. Rhian's first husband was killed before the baby was born."
"Oh, how terrible!"
"It was a blessing. The Man – I do not recall his name – was cruel and abusive, and as a result, she suffered injuries and her health was poor. Daeron met her when the Elves first came to Dale, and he made sure she was taken care of. When King Thranduil was bringing Dale's women and children to his Palace for that first winter, she went into labor on the road."
"Ai, siniath fêg!" She gave birth in a wagon?"
"They managed to get her to the Palace, but she and the baby would have died if Daeron had not been there to save them." Turamarth kissed Darryn's dark hair. "You love your Uncle Tur, don't you?"
"Yep." Darryn wiggled in his arms. "I wanna walk!"
Tur put the child on the ground between them, and Darryn reached for each of their hands. "I wanna jump!"
Tur and Evvy laughed and they swung him between them as they continued down the street.
"He is so sweet!" Evranin laughed, and Turamarth was thunderstruck.
It was the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard.
"Unca Tu-ur!" He'd stopped swinging his arm, without realizing it.
"Oh… I am sorry…" he cleared his throat and began again.
.
Finally, they reached the park and saw several other children playing there, under the watchful eyes of their mothers. "Here we are, Súyon! What do you want to do first?"
"Swide!" he pointed to the tall one, where some children were already lined up.
"Then the slide it shall be." He smiled, "Evranin, there is a bench here, if you want to sit and watch."
"All right." She gracefully went to the nearby seat and settled herself, then said shyly. "Turamarth? Please… call me Evvy. Everyone else does."
He stopped for a second and grinned. "Evvy," he repeated softly. "And you must call me Tur."
"Tur," she repeated.
He helped Darryn on the slide for a while, then they ran around on the grass, so he could flap his wings and pretend he was a bird. They sat for a bit, so Tur could have him show Evranin all the different animal noises he knew. She smiled and clapped and heaped praises on the little boy.
Then they went on the swings, where his nephew sat in his lap and yelled, "Higher!" as he waved his arms and kicked his legs on the way up and squealed on the way down.
Now Tur could see why Hannah warned him to hold on tight. "You are fearless, Pinig; I am not so sure that is a good thing!" When he looked up and saw Evranin smiling and waving at the baby, he whispered, "Do you want to go higher? Wave at Evvy!"
"Hi Ebby!" Darryn yelled. "I see you!"
"I see you, as well!" She called back. Then she met Tur's eyes and smiled.
Time slowed down for a moment, and he could hear the pounding in his chest…
.
"Unca Tur?" Darryn pulled on sleeve of his tunic.
"Yes?" He said absently, still looking over at the bench.
"I gotta go..." Darryn looked a bit anxious.
"Go where?" He said dreamily, as he focused on her huge, doe-like eyes…
"Gotta pee…"
"Hmmmm?" …and those long, thick lashes…
"Unca Tu-ur!" the little boy's voice was urgent.
"Yes?" he repeated.
"I gotta…Uh oh…"
Tur's lap was suddenly soaked with warm liquid.
"Ai, gorgor!" he yelped, louder than he meant to, and the little boy started to cry.
"It is all right, Darryn." Turamarth quickly got off the swings, then tried to calm the boy as they went over to the bushes, so he could discreetly change his leggings and smalls.
The boy rubbed his eyes and frowned. "I'm sowwy." Huge tears began to fall down his cheeks.
"I am the one who should be sorry, Pinig. It is not your fault," he spoke in a soothing voice as he found a spot and knelt down.
"Is he all right?" Evranin followed, looking concerned.
"He has just had a bit of an accident," he said. "Could you please hand me his bag? Shhh… Darryn, no one is upset…"
"I'm all wet!" the baby cried, stomping his feet. "Yuk!"
She handed the bag to him, and he rummaged through it and took out a washcloth. "Could you please get this wet in the fountain over there?"
As she left, he took out the spare leggings and underwear, then laid the baby down in the grass and began to pull off his wet pants. He had them down past his ankles when suddenly they wouldn't move. He'd forgotten to remove Darryn's shoes first, and now the leggings were stuck! Darryn began to wail in misery, so Tur gave them another yank, which lifted the baby's bottom off the ground entirely. Which made him cry harder.
On his best days, Darryn was notorious for his hatred of being dressed, 1 but Turamarth's amateurish attempts to manage the situation was more than any two-year-old should have to suffer. The baby's howls increased in volume, and he began to kick his legs, waving the useless wet bottoms in the air, drawing the curious looks of several others in the park.
Darryn's kicking became frantic. "Off!" He whined. "Get 'em o-off!"
"Please Pinig; hold still; it will be all right," he cajoled.
He tried pulling them back up, but they just wouldn't move, and panic rose in his chest. What in Varda's name was he going to do now? Should he take his knife and cut the fabric? Or carry the child through the streets of Dale half-naked? Turamarth grabbed one of his nephew's ankles and tried to come up with a prayer in Quenyan. Nothing.
Daeron and Rhian made it all look so easy! Ben and Hannah had no trouble either; even King Thranduil could take care of this! What was the matter with him?
"Here," Evranin returned, bearing the wet cloth and looked saw Darryn's red face and wet cheeks. "Is he hurt?" She asked, as she kneeled beside him.
"He is just a bit… irritated." His determined smile turned into a grimace, when the near-hysterical child waved his legs again and kicked him squarely in his crotch.
His teeth clenched and didn't say a word. (The last time Turamarth cursed in front of his nephew, Darryn walked around for weeks repeating the Sindarin word, and asked everyone he met if they had one, too, and could they show it to him. "Do that again," Daeron had warned, "and I'll cut your own Gwîb off in your sleep!").
"Turamarth?" Evvy was alarmed. "Have you ever done this before?"
He opened his mouth to reply, when—
"What in the world are you doing to that baby?"
He looked up to see Seren, one of Rhian's friends, standing there with her hands on her hips, shaking her head.
"Er… Darryn had a bit of an accident," the Elf told her. "I – we are just getting him changed."
"So, I see." Seren adjusted her skirt and kneeled down to join them. "You really have no idea what you're doing, do you?"
"Wh…what makes you say that?" Turamarth did his best to look indignant.
"Because if you did," Seren reached into the bag, "you'd know that boys need to be covered up when cool air hits them, or else—"
A stream of urine shot up in the air, hitting the Guard in the chest and face. "Ppppfft!" He sputtered and jerked his head away. "Amarth faeg!"
"—that might happen," the woman said casually, as she handed him a folded nappy. "Here; clean yourself off."
Evranin gasped, as she covered her mouth, and Seren sucked in her lips to keep from laughing.
She put another cloth over Darryn's privates. "I know it's 'closing the barn door after the horse gets out,' but better safe than sorry." Then she turned to the blonde Elleth with a friendly smile. "You're the lass who came with Daeron's friends! I'm Seren." She held out her hand. "I saw you at the Hen Party and was hoping to get the chance to meet you!"
"I am Evranin, but most people call me 'Evvy.' I am happy to meet you." She took the woman's hand with a small smile.
Tur had wiped his face and tried to blot the front his tunic, with a sigh.
Seren returned Evvy's smile, then got down to business. Darryn was still upset, but Seren's confidence seemed to calm the child down. "Now then, Little Man," She said in a soothing, baby talk, "what did your mean, old Uncle Tur do to you?" she expertly maneuvered his leggings, while saying in a sing-song voice. "He's just silly, isn't he?" She tickled his tummy. "Uncle Tur is a silly Elf. Can you say that? 'Silly Elf!"
"Siwwy Ewf." Darryn hiccupped, still teary.
"That's right! Very good!" Seren made a face. "Silly Uncle Tur doesn't know anything about babies, does he?" she blew a raspberry into his stomach.
"I have watched Daeron take care of him many times!" he said in his defense. "It looked so easy…"
"Watching isn't doing, pet. Don't feel bad; lots of people learn the hard way about changing little boys." The woman worked quickly to get Darryn's clothes free. "Can you hold these for me, sweetie?" She handed the child his shoes to play with while she washed him off.
As Seren worked, she and Evvy conversed easily, and Turamarth fought the urge to pout. Were the Stars conspiring against him? Nothing seemed to go right! He'd wanted to impress her; instead, he sat there, feeling useless.
"…the kids have so much more room to play here in Dale…. Annnd… Here we go!" Seren finished tying Darryn's shoe and stood him on his feet. "Nice and dry! Feel better, sweetie?"
"Uh huh."
"Thank you, Mistress." Turamarth got to his feet and picked up his nephew, before helping the others up. "I appreciate this."
"I'm happy to help." She winked at him. "It's a lot harder than it looks, isn't it?"
"I suppose it is." He managed a sheepish smile. "I was going to take these two to Adila's for lunch. Would you and your children care to join us?"
"Well, I would, but…" Seren bit her lower lip.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, then he saw Evvy blush a deep red and avert her eyes.
"Turamarth, my love," Seren was trying to keep a straight face. "You might want to go home and change..." Then she looked toward the bottom of his tunic.
He looked down, saw a dark wet, stain over his crotch, where his nephew had peed.
"Ai, rhaich!" he gasped in horror, then grabbed Darryn's bag, and held it in front.
Turamarth's dignity was in shreds. How much worse could this possibly get?
Bad question.
"Unca Tur?" Darryn was looking around. "Where is it?"
"Where is what, Pinig?"
"Bwankee?"
"What? Your blanket?" Startled, he looked around on the ground.
"Oh, boy…" Seren winced, and started to look. "I don't see it…"
"What is wrong?" Evranin asked. "Has he lost something?"
"Darryn has a special blanket he takes everywhere, and he gets…upset if he loses it." He explained. "It is small, and dark green. He is very attached to it."
"Gween," Darryn added helpfully, as he continued to look at the ground around them, and his lower lip began to tremble. "I want Bwankee!"
"The child had nothing in his hands when we met you in the Market," Evvy told him.
"Are you sure?" His heart sank. Siniath faeg…
"Did you even bring it, Tur? Maybe it's at home." Seren offered.
"Home?" Darryn screwed up his face, and he began to sniffle. "Bwankee's home?"
Turamarth quickly reached into his pocket, pulled out some coins, and handed them to Seren. "Please, accept this with my compliments, and take my friend and your children to lunch, as a gesture of thanks for all your help." He turned to Evranin, "Evvy, I am terribly sorry, I hope you understand, but—"
"I want my Bwankee," Darryn's cries began to gather momentum…
"—I am afraid I cannot join you; we have a bit of a situation—"
"Bwankee!" The child began to wail, and tears fell down his face. "I want BWANKEEEEEEEEE!"
"—and I must go immediately…"
"I'll look after her, love." Seren squeezed his arm. "You best get a move on."
He got a better hold on the screaming toddler and began to hurry away. "Please accept my apology for my abrupt departure! I hope to see you before you leave!"
"Nover, Turamarth!" He heard the confused Elleth call after him.
"Happy hunting!" Seren yelled.
Turamarth picked up speed as Darryn's anxiety increased, as did the pitch and volume of his screams.
.
.
"My lands…" Seren laughed. "Will you look at those lads go!"
They watched as Turamarth broke into a dead run, his long, auburn hair flying in the wind, as he gripped the child to him and raced for the house. They (and much of Dale) could still hear Darryn's acute displeasure long after they were out of sight.
"Will Darryn be all right?"
"Oh, he'll be fine; once he gets hold of his blanket, he'll quiet right down." She shook her head fondly, then added, "Darryn normally isn't like this; but his Mam and Ada are away, and he's never been apart from her. He'll be his old self the minute Rhian and Daeron walk through the door."
"I am sorry I could not be more help," Evranin said nervously. "I do not have experience with small children."
"Neither does Tur, poor lad; but his heart's in the right place."
"He cares about Darryn a great deal."
"That he does. Turamarth's a good lad, and we think the world of him. He loves that baby like his own blood, and that counts for a lot, in my book."
Seren grinned and put her arm around the Elleth's shoulders. "My friends were watching my own kids while I rescued you, so let me introduce you, yeah?"
They walked through the grass until they reached Ethan and Liam, who were watching their younger sister Liliwen play in the sandbox with Anna and Daffyd's foster daughter, Owena.
"Seren!" Anna was sitting beside her son Powell's new wife, Mari, as they watched the baby.
"Come on; you'll love them." She led Evranin over to them, and after a few moments of friendly chatting, Anna and Mari offered to watch all the children so they could enjoy a child-free lunch.
"It'll be no trouble," Anna said with a knowing smile. "Your new friend looks a bit pole-axed; he could use some quiet."
"Bless you, love," she kissed Anna's cheek. "I'll return the favor next week, so you can have some grownup time; I promise!"
"I'll take you up on that. Now go enjoy yourself. I'm heading home from here, so we'll just bring them along. Nice to meet you, Evvie!"
.
"The people in Dale are very friendly," Evranin observed, as they walked toward the Market. "I like it very much."
"We look after each other, all right. It's been that way since we all lived Laketown, and Lord Bard does everything he can to keep it going. Have you ever been to Adila's?"
"I have not; is the food good?"
"It's wonderful! The place is open early for breakfast, with tea, coffee and pastries from the Bakery. For the midday meal, it's simple stuff, like soups, sandwiches and such. She closes up in the early afternoon to be with her kids. The Long Lake Tavern is the place to go for supper and late evening entertainment."
"Adila is an unusual name, is it not?"
"She was born in Harad but was married to one of the Blacksmiths here in Dale. Bron was killed last year during the attack on the city, and she…needed to make a fresh start. She sold her old house and the forge to an Elf from your neck of the woods." [2] He's been there since last summer and seems to be doing pretty well for himself."
They reached the steps to café, and when they went through the door, they saw Adila behind the counter handing a paper bag to a tall, brown-haired Elf.
"Wouldn't you know it? Hey there, Rôg!" Seren grinned in surprise, "we were just talking about you!"
The Ellon turned around with a smile. "Suilaid," he said, then recognized the Elf next to her and smiled. "Evranin!"
"Rôgon?" Evvy's face lit up. "I thought you had returned to Mithlond; it is good to see you, Mellon nîn!"
"Mae g'ovannen, Sell muin!" he kissed Evvy's hand, then Seren's.
Rôgon, or "Rôg," as everyone called him, wore all of his hair pulled back into a long braid down the middle of his back, and his light tunic showed the stains of his profession. At the moment they were rolled up to his elbows showing powerful arms.
"I take it you two know each other?"
"Rôgon used to live in the Golden Wood." She explained to Seren, then turned to the Blacksmith. "Have you seen the Marchwarden and the others?"
"I saw them all at Daeron's Stag night." he smiled. "We are planning to gather at the Inn this evening, for some games. It is good to see you here; and I see you have made some friends," he gestured to Seren.
"We were just at the children's playground with Turamarth and his nephew," she told him. "Things… did not go quite as planned."
"I saw run through the square…" he smirked. "He was hard to miss."
"Aye, and no doubt you heard them coming a mile away," Seren giggled.
"Was the child hurt?"
"Not at all," she assured him. "Tur isn't used to babysitting, poor lad, and was in over his head. They'll be fine. Can you stay and eat with us?" Seren offered. "I'm having a child-free lunch, and I'm going to make the most of it and talk with grownups!"
"Please?" Evvy smiled. "I would like that very much."
"I accept your kind offer," he grinned, and they headed for one of the colorful tables. Adila was introduced to their guest when she came over to take their order.
"I am pleased to meet you, Mistress," Evvy saluted. "Your shop is decorated beautifully; so much color!"
"Thank you," the Harad woman's accent only added to the exotic setting. "I like to have a taste of my homeland here. The others seem to like it as well. Let me go get your meal ready."
While the women waited for their lunch, they chatted with the Blacksmith, who had ordered some cold drinks to go with his sandwiches.
"I thought you were from Lothlórien, Rôg, but Evvy tells me you're originally from the Grey Havens? Where is that?"
"It is an Elven colony past the Shire in Eradior. Mithlond is actually a large harbor, and Lord Círdan manages the ships that take my people to the Undying Lands."
"That must be sad, saying goodbye to so many of your people like that." Seren said.
"It can be. After I put my father and younger sister on a ship, I decided I needed a change, so I came to the Golden Wood and asked the Lord and Lady if I could stay."
"May I ask what happened to your mother?"
"She was killed in a carriage accident; a horse became spooked, and bolted, and she was run over. It was just… one of those things." He looked down and toyed with the napkin in his lap. "My sister was still a small child, and we considered leaving her here for me to raise, but Lord Círdan had foreseen that she would not do well without our Ada."
"So, you lost your whole family, then." The woman shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, love."
"I thank you." He smiled. "Let us talk of happier things; it is a lovely spring day and I have two beautiful lunch companions!"
"Now it's our turn to thank you." she said. "What made you come to Dale?"
"Curiosity, I suppose," Rôg shrugged. "Two years ago, I went with the Wardens to the villages in the Wold when the plague struck. Lord Celeborn wanted me to help with the livestock and such until the men were strong enough to get back to work."
"My lands! That must have been awful!" the woman shuddered.
"It was a sad sight, to be sure, and I stayed long after the sickness passed to help them rebuild their lives. I found I liked to be around these Men; they were good people."
"It was nice of you to help," Evranin said. "Do you like the people here?"
"I do. Lord Thranduil had written to his cousin that he wished he had an Elven blacksmith in Dale, because it was inconvenient to keep sending weapons back to the Woodland Realm for repairs."
"The Dwarves could help with that," Seren mused. "Not that I'm not glad you're here, mind you – I'm surprised they didn't ask Lord Dáin for help."
"They did, but Dwarven weapons have a much different point of balance than an Elvish blade. Each race must utilize their strengths to its fullest advantage, and their weapons need to reflect such. In either craft, it takes nearly a hundred years to learn, although I consider myself rather an expert; I have been making Meigol edhellin for three millennia," he gave them an impish grin.
"I suppose you know what you're doing then." Seren laughed. "My husband, Llew, things the world of this lad," she told Evvy. "and so do my boys. When I tell Ethan and Liam I had lunch with you, they're going to be jealous!"
They laughed and talked together, and when Adila brought their meal, she sat for a moment and became acquainted with Seren's new friend. Evvy and the Harad woman hit it off and the Elleth was fascinated to hear of the traditional Storytelling among her people. [3]
All too soon, their visit came to an end, and Evranin's companions came to pick her up. After Rôg greeted his Galadhrim friends again, he went back to work, and Seren had to go pick up her children.
"Thank you, Mistress," Evranin smiled. "I am glad to know you."
"I've had a lovely time, dear," she kissed Evvy's cheek. "Make sure to come visit before you leave!"
"I will." Then the Elleth said shyly. "Will Darryn be all right? With Turamarth, I mean."
"I'll go find the baby's Grandmother and let her know what's what, but I'm sure it's fine. Bye now!"
.
888888888888888
.
Two hours later, Hannah heaved a weary sigh and let herself into her house. There had been an emergency and thank the Stars, it ended well. Elénaril had been working that day, and she was able to prevent a miscarriage. As much as Daeron deserved his time with his new wife, they would all be glad when he returned.
"Hello?" All was quiet in the house.
She set down her bag, hung up her shawl, and went into the Sitting Room—
It was absolute chaos. Toys were strewn everywhere; the cushions were off the couch and set up to resemble some sort of…shelter with a blanket thrown over the top. On the table, Floyd, their big orange cat, was helping himself to the remains of whatever was left from their lunch.
"My lands…" she clasped her throat. "Seren wasn't joking, was she?"
She tiptoed up the steps and peeked into the downstairs nursery. Turamarth was spread-eagled on the floor, fast asleep, with Darryn gathered in the crook of his arm, sucking his thumb and holding his little green blanket. Underneath the Elf's head was a stuffed horse.
She reached down to pick the baby up, when Tur's eyes flew open in alarm. "Please; do not wake him!" he whispered softly. "It took an eternity to get him to sleep!"
"I'm just going to get him in bed, all right? Just, hold still, now..."
Oh-so gently, she got Darryn tucked under the covers, kissed his forehead, then turned to find his Elven-Uncle sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking bewildered and very sorry for himself. She motioned for him to follow her into the hall, and she left the door open just a crack.
"Come on, lovey," she put her arm around his shoulders. "Seren said you needed lots of tea and sympathy."
"It might be better if you poured the 'sympathy' into my tea," he sighed, as they headed into the kitchen.
"You grab the bottle," she winked, "I'll grab the kettle."
.
.
ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Ai, siniath fêg! – Oh, rotten news!
Súyon – (Quenya) nephew
Pinig – My little one
Ai, gorgor! – Oh, shit! (lit. Oh, horrors!)
Gwîb – Penis; cock (Yes; Tolkien named it)
Siniath faeg – Rotten news
Nover, Turamarth! – Farewell, Turamarth!
Suilaid – Greetings (pl.)
Mae g'ovannen, Sell muin! – Well met, dear girl
Meigol edhellin – Elven blades
.
.
NOTES:
There actually was an Elven Blacksmith named "Rôg," in The History of Middle Earth:
"Rôg was a blacksmith, and chief of the Folk of the Hammer of Wrath. He was considered the strongest of the Noldoli, and was like considered third greatest in valour. He led his people against the BalRôgs and the Orcs during the Fall of Gondolin after the Gate was broken. Later during the battle, he stirred his kindred against the BalRôgs with words of passion, and though many were slain, they slew a number of the fiery creatures "that... was a marvel and dread to the hosts of Melko, for ere that day never had any BalRôgs been slain by the hand of Elves or Men". But the House of the Hammer of Wrath were hemmed in, and every one of them perished, including Rôg." /wiki/Rôg
[1] From "An Invincible Summer," CH 54:
"During the ceremony, the baby had begun to fuss to be let down, so Daeron placed him on the floor where he seemed to sit quietly with his blankie. He so caught up with the wedding, that he hadn't noticed that Darryn quickly managed to remove all his clothing and had just undone his nappy. He was standing completely naked and pleased with himself, when Rhian noticed him, and gasped in horror and embarrassment at the sight.
"Daeron!" she scolded. "How could you not notice he was doing that!"
"Well, he constantly squirms, and…" the poor Elf sputtered and knelt down to try and put his tunic back on, but the baby was too fast for him and took off in a dead run around the room." /works/14127870/chapters/39425212
[2] From "An Invincible Summer," CH 52:
"Oh, Bard; I am sorry I did not mention it before, but did you meet the dark-haired blacksmith from Lothlórien? He had spoken to the Lady about accompanying them to Dale, to possibly purchase Bron's business."
"You mean the one from the Grey Havens? Celeborn made a point to introduce me. Seems nice enough, and I've got no problem with it. How did he end up in Lothlórien?"
"I am not sure. But my cousin thinks highly of him, so I am not worried."
"Any friend of Celeborn's is a friend of mine. I know Adila's been looking to sell the house and the forge, anyway." /works/14127870/chapters/39425212
[3] From "An Invincible Summer, CH 27:
"A 'Tale of Wisdom,' My Lord," Adila explained patiently. "The children will be expecting it."
"But… why?"
"As their Guardian you are the Rasi - the Leader - of their Gosa, My Lord," Adila explained patiently, "and as the Rasi, it is your sacred duty to impart your vast knowledge upon the children, so they may grow to be as wise as you."
Percy snickered and crossed his arms. "Oh, this is gonna be good…"
/works/14127870/chapters/36408054
.
.
.