Chapter Twenty-Nine
SUMMARY: Bard receives news, and passes it on to the others, who are anxiously waiting, while Thranduil learns a great deal about his son's state of mind, and how he can help Legolas.
Daeron and Tur finally make it home to their worried family, and they are overjoyed to see them; especially a 2 1/2-year-old little boy, who is eager to see his Ada.
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City of Dale, 5th of July, 2944 T.A.
"My Lord, messages have arrived from the Palace." The Elf ascended the steps and placed the papers in his hand.
Bard thanked the Guardian and opened it as he descended the Grand Staircase. The first one read:
Lord B: Have rec'd word that T remains in Loth'n. Funerals to go on in his absence. Svs. in WR on 7th, and in Dale on 9th. Pls inform Hilda to prepare.
Enclosed – transcribed mssg from T. – Galion
The other message made him stop in his tracks:
G: Must stay with Beleg. Hold funerals - do not force families to wait. Our ppl. (Turamarth & family) left on 5th with letters. Mithrandir, Elrond & Glorfindel also. Should arrive in Dale on 17th at the latest. Pls pass to Bard; Mithrandir and Elrond will tell all on arrival. -T
Bard sighed, crestfallen. He'd never begrudge Thranduil this time with his son, but he missed his husband!
But there was plenty to keep him occupied.
He found Hilda in her office, going over plans to maintain the City Gardens with Rhian.
"I have news." He held up the paper.
"Is it good?"
"Yes and no. Here." He handed it to her. Hilda's mouthed moved silently as she read the words.
"Oh, my lands…" her hand clasped her throat. "That's a lot, but I think it's right to do the memorial service now. It's cruel to drag it out. We'll set up the Great Hall, for the Ninth of July, and do the traditional potluck?" she looked to Rhian.
"Absolutely. We'll all want to contribute something."
"That's what I thought, too. I'll tell Cook to coordinate it and provide the drinks and such. Now Bard, you and Galion will do the service here?"
"I think Mablung should do it. I was also thinking Sigrid should get up and say a few words. Nualë was her Guard, and she need to get used to things like that."
"Sad, but true." Hilda studied the rest the note. "Elrond and Gandalf are coming… Who is this," she looked again, "Glorfindel?"
"I've heard the name. I'll have Sig look him up, but we know it's just as big a deal as Celeborn and Galadriel's visit last summer."
"They were Thranduil's family; this is different!"
"You always say it's different," Bard's mouth curved upwards.
"I do not! These people don't know us, and the Castle is still new – we haven't even lived a year in it! Oh, my stars! I've got to find Greta and we need to scrub this place from top to bottom, and get the Great Hall whipped into shape… Where will they stay?"
"We do have a Castle, Hil."
"And we've got that picnic at the Lake on the 23rd…" Hilda sighed. "Should we cancel it?"
"Absolutely not. Our people have been looking forward to this. We'll invite our guests to come along."
"Is Daeron coming?" Rhian swallowed. "What about Tur?"
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Instantly Hilda deflated, and put a comforting arm around Rhian's shoulder. "Here, love." She handed the girl the paper. "You're going to want to show this to their Mams."
"Where are they?" Bard asked.
"They're watching Darryn at Tur's place. Let me go get them—"
"Better yet, why don't you take that over to them?"
"Thank you, My Lord," her shoulders relaxed a little. "Darryn should be napping now, so that'd be easier." Her eyes met Bard's. Do you think Turamarth's all right?"
"If something had happened, they would send word, so at this point, no news is good news. So we'll hope for the best, and take the rest as it comes, yeah?"
"I'll be back as soon as I can!" Rhian curtsied and left.
"I need to tell Tauriel and the kids." Bard told Hilda. "Do you know where they are?"
"Tilda's outside playing," Hilda said, absently, as she began lists.
"Thanks." Bard left her to her work and went outside to find the one person who always seemed to know where everyone was.
Tilda was squatted down on the walkway with Alis and Dafina in the summer sun, her hair woven into two braids down her back, drawing pictures on the stones with the chalk Bofur keeps her supplied with.
"Hey there, Beanie!" He walked down the Castle steps and studied their drawings. "Got a message from Galion, just now."
"Is Ada coming? He's bringing Legolas, right?"
"Not just yet, love."
"But what about my Ada?" Dafina's mouth turned downward.
"I hope he is, darling." He patted her blonde curls. "But we've got some other people coming."
"Who?"
"Gandalf, for one—"
"Ooh!" Tilda clapped her hands. "He can do fireworks, can't he?"
"We'll be sure to ask him. Two other Elves—"
"Gallerdil and Celeborn?" her voiced squeaked with excitement.
"'Fraid not, Beanie, but they're friends of Galler – Galadriel, so we'll be very polite, right?"
She shrugged. "Okay. But I really wish it were them."
"Me, too. Where's Bain?"
"He's riding with the boys and Tauriel, again," her nose wrinkled. "That's all they ever do!"
Bard grinned and tugged at her braid. "I guess they don't know how to have fun like you do. Is Sigrid still at the Healing House?"
"Nuh uh. She got home a while ago and went to Ada's library."
"You're always such a big help. What would I do without you?" he kissed the top of her head, then sent her back with her friends.
He found Sigrid curled up in a reading alcove, with her nose in a book. A plate with three apple cores was beside her, along with a jug of water.
And tears were streaming down her face.
"Sigrid! What's the matter?"
"Oh, Da!" She wailed. "I just don't understand how men could be so…so stupid!" she waved the small volume under his nose. "You… Men! You're all just so damn dumb, you can't see what's right in front of your nose!"
Bard sat down beside her. "So, what did we do this time?"
"Oh, not you personally… But what is it with men, anyway?" she blew her nose. "Even Elven men can just be so unbelievably… Arrgh!" She growled.
He picked up the book and read the spine. "The Debate of Finrod and Andreth… i Okay, so what did Finrod do to Andreth that's got your dander up?"
"Well, it wasn't so much Finrod – but he was stupid, too because instead of telling Aegnor – that's the brother, not to dump Andreth, he went along with it!"
"Who is Aegnor?"
He was an Elven Prince, and he looked in the water and saw this beautiful woman named Andreth—"
"She was in the water?"
"No, he saw her reflection in the water—"
"Well, where was she then?"
"She was there!"
"But you said she wasn't in the water."
"Da-a!" she smacked him on the chest with the book. "He looked up from the water and saw her standing there and they fell in love!"
"But what's so terrible about that?"
"It's not, but he was an Elf, and she was a woman." She sniffled.
"So? Your Ada's an Elf and I'm…well I'm not a woman, but I am of the race of Men. Daeron's an Elf, and unless I'm mistaken, Rhian is a woman, too." He shrugged. "What's the problem?"
"I don't know!" she threw her hands up, as the tears fell again. "There shouldn't be! Andreth told him she loved him, but he turned away! He loved her, but that…that bastard wouldn't say it back, and he just… just walked away Da!"
"Language." Bard told her, "and yes, I'm aware of the irony."
"But Aegnor should have stayed and married her, they could have been happy, even if it was only for a little while," She buried her face again. "Ada says love is the most powerful thing in Middle Earth, but this…bas- Imean, Elf would rather go to War!"
"A bit simplistic, don't you think?"
"But isn't love supposed to be simple?"
"Oh, lordy…" Bard chuckled. "If only. But when it's right, it's worth it."
Sigrid growled and snatched the book. After finding a passage she was looking for, she thrust it back in his hand. "Here, read this!"
Her finger pointed to a paragraph, and Bard read aloud:
'Speak of neither to me!' said Andreth. 'I desire neither. I was young
and I looked on his flame, and now I am old and lost. He was young and
his flame leaped towards me, but he turned away, and he is young still. Do
candles pity moths?'
'Or moths, candles, when the wind blows them out?' said Finrod.
Bard stopped. "Who's Aikanár?"
"That's Aegnor," she rolled her eyes. "You know Elves; they love to have a dozen names apiece."
"Oh." He read on:
'Adaneth, I tell thee, Aikanár the Sharp-flame loved thee. For thy sake now
he will never take the hand of any bride of his own kindred, but live alone
to the end, remembering the morning in the hills of Dorthonion….
'For one year, one day, of the flame I would have given all: kin, youth,
and hope itself: adaneth as I am,' said Andreth.
'That he knew,' said Finrod; 'and he withdrew and did not grasp
what lay to his hand: elda as he is..."
Sigrid crossed her arms. "Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Don't you think he was being stupid?"
"That was in First Age, darling. Maybe the rules were different."
"But Da-a! Finrod told her that they would have to wait till the bloody end of the world! See?" She pointed to another paragraph:
'I will tell him,' said Finrod. 'But I might as well tell thee not to
weep. He is a warrior, Andreth, and a spirit of wrath. In every stroke that
he deals he sees the Enemy who long ago did thee this hurt.
'But you are not for Arda. Whither you go may you find light. Await
us there, my brother—and me.'
Bard shook his head. "You're going to have to take this up with Ada when he comes home. Sigrid, I understand you're in love with love; it's perfectly natural at your age. Just… don't be in a hurry to run off and get married, okay?" He put the book down and gathered her to him. "You've still got your studies and a lot of other things you need to do. Can you stay my little girl for just a while longer?" he made a mopey face. "Please?"
"Sigrid's grin was mischievous. "But what if some tall, dark, gorgeous man – or Elf, or Dwarf even, tries to spirit me away in the night?"
"Never happen, I guarantee it."
"How do you know?"
"Because, my darling girl," he held her face. "Your Da and Ada make sure you're surrounded by soldiers with sharp weapons. Besides, what do you think would happen to the poor guy when Auntie Hil got through with him?"
Sigrid's mouth twitched. "An entire Elven Army isn't as scary as she is."
"Nope. Do you know what she said to Ada when she first found out we were in love?"
"I'm not sure I want to know."
"Let's just say, if he were to ever hurt me, the Elvenking would be singing high notes for the rest of his days."
"She didn't!"
"She most certainly did." He put his arm around her. "Hey, listen: I've got a couple of things I need to tell you. Thranduil can't come home just yet, so we're going to go ahead and honor Nuín and Nualë here beginning of next week. Could you give the eulogy?"
"I… think I'd like that, Da. I really liked her."
"I knew you would, love." he kissed her temple. "And there's more. I've just gotten word we're to have visitors."
"Who?"
He told her.
"WHAT? Glorfindel? Are you serious? And Elrond? The Elrond?" She jumped up and knocked the apple cores on the floor, and Bard barely had time to grab her water before it spilled. "Why didn't you tell me right away? Elrond's only the most important Elf in the world!"
"Well, don't tell Ada that; he likes to think he is."
"But he's Elrond! And – sorry, Da," she quickly picked up the bits of apple, grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out of the library, book forgotten. "Does Auntie Hil know? Wait till I tell Ermon! Has Elénaril met him, I wonder…"
Bard allowed himself to be dragged along with mixed feelings in his heart. All his children were changing by the minute right in front of him, and he wanted nothing more than to slow the passage of time.
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Lothlórien, 12th of July 2944 T.A.
"How are you this morning, Pînlass?" Thranduil returned to Legolas's room after his bath. His hair was wet in a braid over his shoulder, and his robes were Celeborn's while the clothing he had brought were being laundered.
"I feel more alert today, and I wish I could sit up."
"As soon as Master Gilfanon gives the word, and not one minute before."
Legolas's smile was sheepish. "It is difficult to remain so still," he groaned. "I am tired now, but when my strength returns, I think it will drive me mad!"
"I completely understand." One side of his mouth quirked up. "Why do you think I have not moved into a guest Talon, yet? My son is as stubborn and determined as me; and someone has to force you to remain still, so your bones can heal."
"How could you know?" He groused. "You have never been stuck in bed like this!"
"Oh, but I have."
"No!" Legolas was skeptical.
"If you lie still, and refrain from complaints, I will tell you about it; are we agreed?"
Thranduil sat in his bedside chair and rested his ankle on the other knee, as he told him the story of Bard's crushed leg.
"…as it turned out, Bard and I were in grave danger, but we survived – with some help from Mithrandir – and once we regain consciousness, I was stuck in bed for nearly a month. Bard and I were terrible patients, and Ermon yelled at us—"
"Ermon? He actually yelled at you?"
"He most certainly did. When we still refused to behave, he called for their 'secret weapon.'"
Legolas brow wrinkled. "Which was?"
"Hilda. "They brought her from the Palace, and," Thranduil lowered his chin and grinned, "let us just say the walls shook… I have not been yelled at since I was small and Feren and I stole pies from the kitchen!"
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Once Legolas was asleep again, Thranduil went to see Gilfanon.
"Did I hear laughter coming from his room?" The Master asked.
"You did. I hope I did not hurt his ribs."
"The high spirits are good for him, as long as he doesn't move around too much."
"He was fine, but then his mood suddenly changed. He said he was fatigued, but…I think he wanted me to leave."
"You can expect that, My Lord." The Master offered him a chair. "In fact, I was hoping we would have a chance to talk. Can I get you something?"
"Thank you, no." Thranduil took a seat. "I would like to understand more of my son's condition."
Gilfanon set his elbows on his desk and intertwined his fingers. "Before we begin, let me assure you: I am not judging anyone, and my only concern is for my patient's well-being. This means I must be brutally honest, and I cannot afford to spare your feelings."
"Yes, of course. Whatever he needs."
"Thank you. Let us examine what we know: The Blue Wizard convinced him he had to remain in the Black, as penance—"
"Yes. He said he had to stay, to make us safe."
"Have you considered why the Blue Wizard could imprison him so easily?"
"Because he twisted Legolas's rage toward me to aim it at himself."
"Ah." The Healer held up his finger. "But did he? Let us talk about that, My Lord. I do not think that delusion was the Blue Wizard's doing; if that had been the case, the Lady of Light would have been able to call him back without your intervention."
"But he chose to stay…"
"Because the Blue Wizard did not have to work hard to convince him."
Thranduil's heart squeezed. "He repeated Legolas's own thoughts back to him?"
Gilfanon's voice was gentle. "Yes."
"But…" he shook his head. "My son does not deserve that!"
"No more than you deserved to blame yourself for the Queen's death. Yet you did, for many years, did you not?" Gilfanon's smile was compassionate. "You and your son are very much alike. Does not his fear seem familiar to you?"
"Yes." Thranduil's sigh was full of pain. "If only—"
"No!" Gilfanon stopped him. "Do not wallow in what might have been. Meet him where he is at. Accept him, wherever he is at, until he works through this. Help him understand he is worthy of your love, that he was never the problem. And above all, you must remain patient and consistent."
"I understand," he nodded.
"I am not sure you do, My Lord. Legolas will not trust your reconciliation for a long time. He will accept one day, be wary another, reject it, test you, push you, and reach out to you, and around you will go in seemingly endless cycle," the Healer's gaze was firm. "And you must be his constant, no matter what happens.
"If he needs space, let him have it. If he wants to talk, validate his feelings without judgment, then gently steer him toward the future you both want. And," the Master was hesitant, "since Legolas is no longer in physical danger, I recommend you remove to other rooms. If you crowd him, it could backfire."
Thranduil ran his hand over his face and huffed a laugh. "I am eager to be with him, but I see your point."
"I propose we meet frequently, so that I might help you navigate this."
"It will be as you say." Thranduil rose. "Thank you, Master."
"Of course," Gilfanon stood, then added.
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City of Dale, 18th of July 2944 T.A.
The Bells at the West gate had tolled four times to indicate visitors.
"Okay gang," Percy called out, "here they come! Look lively everybody!"
Thangon and Meril led the charge, barking all the way as everyone scrambled to their feet and raced down the Grand Staircase.
"Be careful on those steps!" Hilda chastised. "Tilda, hold your sister's hand, now. The last thing we need is a bloody nose or a broken arm!"
"Elrond the Great could fix it, couldn't he?" Bain murmured.
"Don't be impertinent!"
"Where's Da?" Tilda asked.
"Over there with Ben. Greta and Cook are getting the household staff lined up."
"Rhian's coming, right?"
"She's on her way, with all the Mams and the baby. Hilda stopped at the bottom of the steps and made them all line up. "Let's take a look at you… Bain get that hair out of your eyes. Didn't you brush it?"
"Aye, but it's too wild!"
"Oh? I'll just grab my shears and cut it off, then." Her right eyebrow shot up.
"No!" Bain quickly licked his fingers and arranged it.
"If you'd done that in the first place…" She whacked between his shoulder blades. "No slouching!"
"Yes, Auntie Hil."
"You too, Evan; get those shoulders back!"
"Yes, Auntie Hil!" Evan grinned. But he stood straighter.
Hilda rolled her eyes and tucked a strand of hair behind Sigrid's ear and smiled. "Beautiful, love."
"What about me?" Tilda frowned. "Tauriel did my hair special!"
"It looks wonderful, and so do you. Where is she, by the way?"
"Coming!" A clatter of metal approached, and Tauriel ran down past them like a shot to meet up with the Guard unit that had begun to gather.
Hilda went over to the King of Dale for a cursory inspection, and when she was satisfied, checked out the rest of the staff.
"Oh, my goodness, Evan! There's a loose thread on the hem of your tunic!" She grabbed Bard's ceremonial knife from his belt and cut it.
"That's the first time this weapon's ever been used, Hil!" Bard complained. "How is that supposed to go down in the history books?"
Hilda ignored him. "I'm surprised Eryn didn't catch this." She glowered at Evan
"I do not expect her to do my mending; she is not my wife, My Lady!"
"And if you'd quit dragging your feet, she would be," she stood up straight with her hands on her hips. "You've been stepping out with Tilda's teacher for how long, now? A year?" ii
"Can I be Flower Girl?" Tilda's eyes were wide with hope.
"Evan's not engaged yet, Beanie," Bard told her. "Give him some time, yeah?"
"Seems to me Eryn's been strung along enough," Sigrid muttered.
"Sigrid…" Bard warned. "That's not the point."
"The girl is right." Hilda smacked Evan upside the head. "What are you waiting for, boy?"
"See what I mean, Da?" Sigrid murmured in disgust. "Men!"
"What's all that about?" Percy asked Bard out of the corner of his mouth.
"It's a phase." Bard whispered. "A ''She-Woman Man-Hater' phase. If you ask, she'll tell you all about it."
"No bloody thanks." Percy shuddered, then called out, "Hey, are we decent, Hil, or should we crawl back into our hovels and pound rocks?"
"You'll do. Now, I want everyone on their best behavior, with their very best manners, is that clear?"
The kids knew the drill. "Yes, Auntie Hil!"
Bard grinned as men stood at attention, and snapped their heels together, just for the effect. "Yes, Auntie Hil!"
"Very funny.'" She clapped her hands and pointed to the tall double doors. "Now, march! And no slouching!"
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After an overnight stop at the Palace, Turamarth had insisted on riding the entire way to Dale. His physical strength had been returning, and his time in the saddle was increasing. Even if he'd still been weak, Tur would refuse to ride to the Palace or enter Dale otherwise.
"Everyone would see me in the wagon and want to ask questions, Gwador. I am not ready for that. I can barely tolerate the thoughts of the crowds."
"Do not worry about that. Ada and Uncle have it worked out. When we get to the City, you just follow my lead, all right?"
On the road, Feren placed him and Tur toward the back, and their fathers brought up the rear to keep watch and listen to the Guardians in the trees.
Daeron helped him pass the time by reminiscing about childhood adventures. His Ada and Uncle joined in and regaled them with memories of their own, and while Tur said very little, the lines on his face relaxed some. They rode in silence for a time, which allowed Daeron's thoughts to wander.
"You are smiling, Gwador," Tur observed quietly.
"Am I?" Daeron sighed. "I am sorry—"
"No, please… You look happy, and it helps. What were you thinking about?"
"My wife. Did I tell you what Rhian did before I left?"
Tur shook his head.
"She ordered me to bring you right home, and if I didn't, she was going to come herself, and Valar help anyone who tried to stop her."
"She said that?"
"Oh, yes. She slammed things around when she packed my things, and nearly broke my hairbrush in half. I had no idea she could be so fierce!" iii
"I did." Tur said in a faraway voice. Do not forget, it was I who looked after her and Darryn while you were gone." He absently fingered his necklace, as he talked. "She stomps her foot when she is angry, did you notice?"
"I did."
"May I ask you something, Daeron?"
"Anything. You know that."
"I know Rhian different, when you first met."
"She was. She'd been badly hurt and abused by her first husband."
"But now…" he didn't finish.
Daeron wisely did not press the point. Instead, he studied his cousin's profile. "Rhian adores you, Tur. You know that."
"I do. I admit when you first became engaged, I was…at loose ends. I was afraid I would lose…us, Daeron. But Rhian does not let me feel that way. It means a great deal."
"That's because you are her Gwador, too." Daeron said softly. "She loves you very much, and so does Darryn."
Tur didn't say anything for a few moments, then whispered. "But what if things can never be the same?"
"Then we will find a way to make things better in a different way."
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The bells rang, and the gates of Dale opened to cheers and waves and smiles.
"Come with me, Tur." Daeron maneuvered them to the rear, and as they passed upward through winding streets, he ducked his horse down a back street, to get to his house. "Ada and Uncle will explain to our mothers and bring them along shortly."
Once they reached his home, Daeron dismounted, and helped him off Sandastan. Turamarth's knees buckled, so he helped his cousin walk to the steps and up onto the porch.
"I feel dizzy…" Tur's voice was weak, and his skin took on an ashen pallor. "The horses?"
"They will be taken care of. We sent a message last night for the door to be left unlocked, and Rhian should have your room all ready. Let us get you inside, and you can lie down."
"That sounds wonderful," Turamarth moaned and leaned into him.
Daeron helped him inside, and straight up the steps. He barely managed to get Tur's boots and armor off before he was fast asleep.
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"Blast! I'm too short!" When the company entered the courtyard, Rhian craned her neck to get a glimpse of her friends and family.
Indis shifted Darryn to her other hip. "There are Ómar and Adamar!"
The ceremony of was brief. After the King announced a Feast in three days' time to welcome their guests, Feren dismissed the troops, and the Captains rushed to greet their wives and Rhian and kiss their grandson.
Hannah and Ben came over. "So, they went straight to the house after all?"
"Looks that way. Could you and Da take the baby? I want to take Nana and Nathêl to see their sons."
"Sure thing," Hannah took Darryn, but not before she kissed Indis. "Go on, love; it'll be fine. You'll see!"
The three of them moved quickly through the crowd, and by the time they turned onto their street, Daeron bolted out the front door and down the porch steps. "Rhian!" His face lit up.
"Daeron!" She opened her arms and ran over the cobblestones until she was swept up in his strong arms and spun around. "I'm so glad you're home!"
He put her down, buried his face in her hair and whispered. "I have missed you more than I can say, Hind Calen."
"I love you," she sobbed. "I was so worried…"
"I know," he held her face, and his warm lips kissed her eyes and cheeks and mouth. "But I am here, now. We are here."
"We had the service for Núin and Nualë, and it was so awful." Her cheeks were wet with tears. All I could think of was you and Tur and what if—"
"Shhh…" He wiped her tears with his thumbs. "Here I am." And he kissed her so soundly, it chased her fear away.
"Daeron?" She smiled through her tears. "Your parents are watching."
"So they are." He gave her a quick kiss, then went to greet his Mother and Aunt.
"Tur is worn out, and I expect he will sleep for quite a while. But he is home, Aunt." He hugged her again. "We brought him home and we will keep him safe."
"How is he?" Indis asked.
"You must prepare yourself, for you will find him much altered." He put his arm around her and escorted her into the house.
"What happened?" Idril asked her husband.
"Tomorrow, Meleth nîn," Adamar whispered. "For now, go see your nephew."
They quietly went up the stairs and opened the guest room door. Tur was indeed fast asleep, on his side, with his knees drawn up. Even in sleep, the weight of his trauma showed.
"Ion naer nîn…He is so pale…" Indis gently brushed the hair from his forehead. "I would like to sit with him for a while."
"That would be fine," Daeron whispered. "But if he wakes and gets upset, please come and get me."
"I will."
After Idril went downstairs, Daeron took Rhian by the hand and ducked into their bedroom. "I need to hold you for a little while," he murmured into her hair.
"I'm so glad your back," she told him. "Was it terrible?"
"More than you can imagine," he shuddered. "There is a great deal to tell you, but please; not now. Today, I need to enjoy my wife and son, and tonight…" Daeron lowered his head and captured her mouth in a kiss that made her tingle down to her toes, then rested their foreheads together. "Tonight, I need you to hold me and be the strong one, Hind Calen."
"Anything you need, babe." She whispered. "I love you."
Downstairs, Hannah and Ben arrived, and a chorus of 'hello's' were followed by the sounds of small feet and hands eagerly climbing up the steps.
"Mama?" The dark-haired toddler stuck his head in their door. "'s Ada here?"
"Darryn!" Daeron released his wife and opened his arms. "Here I am, Pinig!
"Ada's home!" The little boy waved his arms and ran to him.
"Shhhh…" Daeron scooped him up and kissed his cheeks and forehead, then headed downstairs. "We do not want to wake up your Uncle Tur. Now, tell me; did you learn any new words while I was gone? I think you are bigger…"
Rhian smiled at her husband and son and followed.
Tomorrow, the hard work would begin.
But today was about family.
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Ion naer nîn… - my poor son…
i /wiki/Athrabeth_Finrod_ah_Andreth
ii From An Invincible Summer, CH 42: /works/14127870/chapters/38056268
iii From Legolas, Ion nîn, CH 18: /works/17088320/chapters/43393505
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