Chapter Thirty-Seven
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SUMMARY: The reunions continue. Lots of them.
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"Will you meet me in the middle, will you meet me in the air?
Will you love me just a little, just enough to show you care?
Well I tried to fake it, I don't mind sayin', I just can't make it…"
"Sister Golden Hair" by America
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The Woodland Realm, 17th August 2944 T.A.
Bard and Thranduil's energetic reunion in the walk-in closet required a long, hot soak in the bathing room afterward, but neither of the Kings were complaining. The lamps cast a golden glow on the rough walls of the room, and the sweet, floral scent of lavender along with the minty Athelas filled the air. Bard sat on the steps, gathered his husband against him and rubbed out the last remaining tension from the Elf's shoulders.
"Mmmm…" Thranduil hummed in ecstasy. "I love you."
Bard wrapped his arms around Thranduil's chest and hugged him, then reached for the oil. After pouring a bit into his hands, he resumed his work, easing the last bits of knotted muscle.
"I am glad I never pictured this, when I was away."
"Oh? Why not?" Bard's dark eyebrow shot up, as he massaged the base of his neck.
"I was already miserable without you, Meleth nîn; fantasizing about this would have made it impossible to bear."
"So, what, you didn't dream about closet sex?" he teased.
"Every night. When we are physically joined, our bodies react and reach for a release, and it is magical. But when we are in each other's arms like this, touching, talking, it is a level of intimacy that cannot be compared. If I allowed myself to crave this, I think I would have drowned in despair." The Elf's voice caught. "I need this, Bard; I need to have you close, to share my days, my thoughts, and…" he swallowed. "It was what I missed most after Mírelen died… Those small, ordinary moments, the talks, the… she saw me, like you do, now." Thranduil's voice cracked slightly. "You are my heart's witness, Bard. And I am yours."
"I know." Bard turned the Elf's face toward his and kissed him softly several times and smiled into his eyes. "I often thought that's why a lot of Men exaggerate about sex: they brag of their many conquests, joke about the notches in their bedposts, and that's probably why so many visit brothels."
Thranduil moved around to face him. "I do not understand."
"I didn't either, until I married Mattie."
"You mean you…"
"No, I told you the truth; she was my first, and you were my second. What I mean is, some men are…cowards, and that's the truth of it. They separate the act of sex from anything to do with the heart and mind. To them, it is just fucking, or at least that's what they tell themselves. A close connection, that deep trust terrifies them, and will often use sex to avoid the kind of intimacy we're talking about."
"You think so?"
"I know so. And the saddest part about it is that deep down, they know it. They know it will only make them feel more alone, but they do it anyway."
"Why?"
"Some people find it too hard to share what's in their hearts, so they avoid it and tell themselves – and anyone who will listen – that it's weakness. To trust someone like that is terrifying."
"I… think I understand. It makes sense, but that does not make it right."
"'An explanation isn't an excuse,' my Da always said." Bard stroked the side of the Elf's face. "I love making love with you, and when we were together in the closet it was…" he smirked, "let's just say the Athelas oil in the water isn't just for your sore muscles."
Thranduil reddened. "I am sorry if I was too rough."
"Oh, I'll get over it," he laughed. "But tonight, I will make love to you, face to face, and you're going to show me what's in those eyes, so I can see it, and help you if I can." He leaned closer and kissed him softly. "I am your 'witness.'"
The Elvenking's face froze, so Bard caressed his cheek. "Don't be afraid; whatever it is, we'll bear it together, all right? But first, we need to have dinner and spend some time with Legolas."
Thranduil closed his eyes and nodded slightly, so Bard changed the subject.
"Come on; turn around, so I can wash your hair, love."
The Elf hummed, as Bard rubbed shampoo into his head and massaged his scalp. "How is our Gwinïg?"
"She's missing you, and nervous to seeing Legolas again, but she wanted me to come. In fact, it was her idea."
"Really?"
"She knows Legolas better than anyone, and I didn't want to overwhelm him. I also wanted to see how she was doing, too. She was a mess after you left; I think looking after the kids was the only thing keeping her going."
"Ai, hên faeg nîn…" Thranduil leaned his head back. "I shall tell the Council she is coming, whether they like it or not."
"It wouldn't do any good. You and I both know she won't do it; she's as honorable as her father." Bard kissed the side of his neck. "It's better this way, my love. Wait till he comes to Dale then encourage them to go off together and work it out by themselves."
"Did she say anything about his letters?"
"No, and I haven't asked."
"That is good."
"I did ask her to go riding with me a few times, though. Just the two of us."
"Oh?" the Elf's voice was amused.
"She saw right through it," Bard shrugged, "but she came anyway. I just wanted to show her I'm here if she needs me, and I think she appreciated it. What helped distract her even more was the package and letter from Dís."
"Kili's mother? I did not know they corresponded."
"They haven't since she left two years ago," Bard rested his chin on Thranduil's shoulder. "And therein lies a tale.
"The package contained a ring of Kili's when he was small, a pair of earrings, and a drawing of him, as an adult. Dís also sent her a blue stone like the one she gave Kili. This one said 'Daughter."
"That was a nice gesture."
"It was more than a gesture, love." He cleared his throat and said, as casually as possible. "It came with a copy of Dís's last Will & Testament. Seems she made Tauriel her heir."
"What?" With a splash, Thranduil twisted around, meeting his eyes. "How did Tauriel react?"
"Oh, she was reduced to tears over the jewelry and the picture and blubbered at the stone."
"Bard, I do not want our child to be ruler of a people she knows nothing about! It is too far away!"
"That's the first thing I thought, so she and I went to talk to Dáin and Balin, who sent for Dwalin—"
"Dwalin?" Thranduil's brows drew together, in alarm. "He is the War-Chief!"
"And don't think I didn't shit myself when he walked in!" Bard laughed. "l thought for sure we'd started some sort of international incident! But Tauriel kept calm, and took charge. She said she's deeply fond of Dís, but she wasn't interested in personal gain or power."
Thranduil's eyes were full of pride, "Excellent. What happened?"
"It goes like this: according to tradition, Tauriel is Kili's chosen One, and even though they didn't marry, Tauriel automatically makes her Dís's legal daughter, and, because she has no other immediate family, her Heir. Upon Dís' death, Tauriel inherits her personal goods and fortune…"
"And?"
"…but Durin line of succession must be one of blood."
"Praise Elbereth." The Elvenking's shoulders slumped. "She would be miserable living inside a mountain!"
Bard snickered, "That's what she said. She likes the Dwarves and all, but wants to stay in the woods, thank you very much."
Thranduil's eyes bulged suddenly. "Bard, can Dís claim the right to arrange her marriage? What if some Dwarves of the line of Durin might try to force her into marriage to gain access to the Blue Mountains?"
"Oh, that," Bard waved his hand casually. "I told Dáin you've already arranged Tauriel's marriage, and there's a document to prove it."
"I do not have any such thing!"
"Sure, you do," Bard grinned. "You've 'officially arranged' for Tauriel to arrange her own marriage."
"That is... you really told them this?"
"I yanked it out of my hat, to be honest; I thought Tauriel was going to shit a brick, but she caught my look, and kept her mouth shut."
The Elf shook his head in fascination. "Did Dáin believe you?"
"Not for a second!" The corners of Bard's mouth curved upwards in a mischievous grin, "but officially he did and that's what counts. Balin took me aside later and said he 'hoped' this decree was back-dated a couple of hundred years."
"I am surprised Mithrandir did not go with you."
"I asked him, but he did that twinkly-thing with his eyes and said we'd handle it fine."
Thranduil smiled at him with delight. "Did I not say you would be an excellent politician?"
"So, you did, but Tauriel was the one who blew us all away that day."
"How so?"
"That girl's as devious as Hilda! You're gonna love this: she made a plan to not only dispose of the fortune she's about to inherit, but she made conditions."
"What kind of plans?"
"She went to visit Dáin and Balin last week, and told them to create a fund, much like we have for the Widows and Orphans. The War is coming, she reminded them, and the interest will have piled up to guarantee no one starves or goes without shelter after."
"That is…"
"…brilliant? You bet, but she wasn't done. She wants the Blue Mountains to follow, and I quote, 'the excellent example of the Kings of the North' and place all surrounding villages of Free peoples under the protection of the Dwarves of the Blue Mountains. Should Orcs or any hostile force attack, she wants the women and children safe in their caves and assist the Men in protecting their own. She also suggested that they begin to foster relations now, for the same reason we do here: to stabilize and strengthen that region for the onslaught to come, because if they don't, then that money will be sent here to help our own people."
"What did Dáin say?"
"He loved it. He and Dís had been trying to find a way to motivate things in that area, and nothing motivates Dwarves more than the promise of gold."
The Elvenking nearly burst with pride. "Tauriel is remarkable, is she not?"
"A true princess in every sense of the word. But there's more."
"You must be joking!"
Bard scowled in mock offense. "I'm hurt that you would suggest such a thing! Maybe I won't tell you, then. Thranduil splashed water at him. "Tell me!"
Bard wiped his face with as much dignity as he could muster, and said, "The King Under the Mountain is about to lose his War-Chief."
"Why?"
"Seems our daughter didn't just get herself a new Dwarf-Mam, she's about to get her very own Dwarf-Da."
"Dwalin?"
"That big, scary, loud-mouthed bastard who'd just as soon kill you as look at you? That one."
"Dwalin," the Elf flopped back against him. "And Dís…"
"You can thank your daughter for that one, too."
"What did Tauriel do?"
"When Dís was here, two years ago, Tauriel could tell Dwalin was besotted, so she got him plastered one night and wormed it out of him. Guess he's been in love with her for years but didn't want to speak until after they returned from Erebor, and Thorin was King. That never happened, and Dís was in mourning…"
Thranduil's jaw dropped. "She never said a thing."
"Well, something like that's not her story to tell, is it?"
"I suppose not. Did she speak to Dís?"
"She did, but only enough to size up her feelings, which apparently were the same." Bard chortled. "If Hilda had had locked those two in a room, I don't care how scary Dwalin is; my money would be on the Dwarrow. Anyway, she told them the only way she'd donate the money was if Dwalin got off his arse and married Dís, otherwise she'd give it to our own Widows and Orphan's fund.
"Dís was crazy like a fox; she made Tauriel her heir in hopes Dwalin would ask for her hand, then made it known he's not getting her fortune…"
"…which would hopefully prevent attempts at usurping her..." Thranduil shook his head with a smile.
"...which I think is what Dís wanted in the first place." The Bowman smirked. "Our clever girl gave Dwalin the poke in the arse he needed, Dáin's been stomping around saying, ''bout feckin' time,' and when Dís wrote back and accepted, Dwalin blubbered like a baby. He leaves in a month."
Thranduil stared at him in stunned silence, then threw back his head, and his baritone laugh bounced off the walls, and Bard joined in.
"I cannot wait to see Tauriel," the Elf sighed, then changed the subject. "Have you seen Legolas?"
"The sons of Elrond – don't ask me to tell you which-is-which – were just outside the gates, plying the poor kid with alcohol, to treat his shock." Bard's eyes danced.
"Who would not be shocked?"
"That much is true," Bard kissed his temple. "You should have knocked, you know."
"I know... What did you think about your new son?"
"He isn't new," Bard corrected. "He's been my son as long as Tauriel's been my daughter."
The Elf jabbed him with his elbow with a snicker. "You know what I mean."
"I've always liked him, love." He picked up the small basin, "tilt your head back, so I can rinse your hair…" As he poured water over Thranduil's blonde locks, he said, "I first met Legolas on the shores, after Laketown was destroyed. He was grim, but there was a strength, a confidence about him; of course," the corner of his mouth twitched, "the minute I met you, I knew where he'd gotten it."
"And now?"
"Now, he's…" Bard struggled for the right words, "he's fighting to get that back, and I think he will, in time. One of the reasons I came early – besides that tumble in the closet – was to give him time to get used to me in this new light, and see where we go from there."
"What do you mean?" Thranduil asked, as Bard removed the last of the shampoo.
"Hilda said he was, and I quote, 'poleaxed, the poor dear.' It's one thing to tell him all that's been going on, but another to see it. Then of course, there was Galion's happy news…"
"'Happy' was not what I would call it," Thranduil shuddered.
"Yes, you would," Bard grinned. "You're thrilled for him; I know you are."
"I am, I just did not need to see that."
"I heard about your parents and the Dining Room table…" he teased. "I'm surprised you can still use it."
"That," the Elf scowled, "is not the same table. I had it replaced the minute I returned as King."
"Fair enough. Let's get out; my fingers are pruny. Hilda's ordered quiet dinner with our son in about an hour. It'll just be the three of us."
"What about the others?" Thranduil asked as they got out of the pool and dried each other off.
"They'll be fine. The twins are besotted with Hilda - she's the Granny they've never had. The more she scolds them, the more they love it. She's arranged for everyone to eat with Galion and Rôgon, who have finally decided to come out of hibernation and join the rest of the world."
"I am eager to see Galion—"
Bard wiggled his eyebrows, "you've seen plenty enough already."
Thranduil's eyes narrowed, and snapped his arse with his towel.
"Ow! Hey!" With a whoop, Bard took off, and they spent the next twenty minutes chasing each other around the apartment, until the Elvenking finally grabbed his husband and they fell onto the bed, roaring with laughter, and the joy of finally being together.
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Dinner was delicious, but cautious. Thranduil wisely chose to hold back, and allowed Bard and his son to get to know each other, and so far, it was going well.
After dessert, they lounged in the sitting area with wine, as Bard asked questions about his travels with the Dúnedain and Rivendell and Legolas answered with politeness, but no hint of hostility or resentment.
"Hilda told me she moved your things to your own place. How is it?"
"I like it," he smiled. "It was kind of her to think of it."
"Well, it makes sense you'd want your own space, now," Bard gave him a compassionate smile, "my Sea Monsters are wonderful, but they'll bowl you over, if you're not used to it. I would imagine Elladan and Elrohir will plunge right in, but I'm fine if you need a bit of time."
"Thank you," some of the tension left the young prince's face. "I want to offer you my congratulations on your marriage."
"Are you all right with it?"
"I admit the idea took some getting used to…"
"That's only natural, Legolas. You're a bit grown up to be calling me Da, I know, but I hope in time we can be friends."
"What does Tauriel call you?"
"Just Bard." He lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. "She and I had a chance to get acquainted during the Long Winter, and I've grown to love her for herself."
"She's happy?"
"I think so. She and Thranduil are as close as can be, and the children adore her as a big sister. King Dain and everyone at Erebor are fond of her, too."
Legolas's eyes widened. "The Dwarves?"
"Well, sure; didn't your Ada tell you?" Bard turned to look at him.
"I do not think I have, Meleth nîn." Thranduil shook his head. "I've told him of our Alliance, of course…"
"So, Tauriel is in high regards because she's your daughter?"
"That, too. She's special because Kili loved her, and she worked to save all of them during the Battle." Bard's mouth turned upward at the corners. "You're also held in high esteem by the King Under the Mountain."
"I am?"
"You gave Thorin the means to kill Azog, though it cost him his life. Like it or not, when you shot those arrows on the ice at Ravenhill, and threw Orcrist into the heart of that Orc and save their King, you earned their honor and protection, and they'll abide by that, even unto death."
"Really?" The young Prince gasped.
Thranduil was also surprised. "I did not know this."
"Neither did I, until Dwalin told me," the Bowman smiled. "He witnessed the whole thing, and there are songs about your deeds. On the day you enter the Lonely Mountain, Legolas, you will be greeted as an honored friend."
"Well…" Legolas smiled shyly, "my father is one of the Greatest warriors in Middle Earth, so I have a lot to live up to, yes?"
"By the time you leave these shores," Thranduil assured him, "your deeds will have far surpassed mine."
His son's mouth fell open. "You think so?"
"I know it, Pînlass. You will be greater than I could hope to be, and I will be honored to be your father."
They sat in comfortable silence, each lost in their own memories, until Legolas asked. "Ada tells me my book was your idea?"
"It was a gift for the both of you." The Bowman crossed legs. "He needed to write it, as much as you needed to read it." Bard tilted his head. "I hear you've seen her?"
"Yes. During the Tarnin Austa, I spoke with her, and I saw her in Galadriel's Mirror, the night before… those terrible things happened."
"Oh, we don't need to talk about the bad stuff, son." Bard smiled and leaned back against the couch. "So, what do you think of your mother, now that she's a real person to you?"
"She is wonderful…" the Elf's eyes softened. "And very beautiful."
"I'm glad, I imagine when you saw the pictures you noticed how much you look like her?"
"I imagine your people were eager to say, 'Welcome Home,' weren't they?"
"The Palace is…happier."
"It probably has something to do with the return of its Prince." Bard smiled.
"And the King's consort," Thranduil rubbed his back.
"Thank you, love." He turned and smiled at his husband, though he didn't miss the slight stiffness of Legolas's posture.
"I am… sorry Ada was away from you so long." Legolas apologized.
"No, son; Thranduil was exactly where he needed to be, and we support that." Bard leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. "You needed Thranduil all to yourself for a little while, and there's nothing wrong with that." Bard's mouth turned upward. "Well, Tilda will understand, eventually, but she's little, and very attached to her Ada. But she's also eager to see you."
"Me?"
"Sure." Bard shrugged. "How could they forget how you protected them the night Orcs attacked my house? You and Tauriel are their heroes!"
"But that was different." Legolas bit his lip.
"Aye, it was," Bard's voice softened. "But this a good kind of different; you're family, now."
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Bard kept a close eye on his husband all evening. Things couldn't have gone better with Legolas, and he was thrilled for all of them, but there was an underlying grief in his Elf, and he knew it.
They had talked with Legolas until quite late, and once he bid them good night, Bard took his hand and said, "Come on, love. I'm not done taking care of you." Bard murmured endearments in Sindarin as eased Thranduil on his back and covered him with kisses as he murmured soft loving words. As their bodies joined, he looked deep into his Elf's stormy eyes.
"I want to see, love; show me."
"I do not want to think of it," the Elf said, breathing heavily.
"I know, but I'm not going to let you stuff things down anymore. I'm here, and I'll help you."
"But you do not understand…"
"But I will, I promise. I love you so much."
Tears fell from Thranduil's eyes and he bared his soul, his fëa to his Bowman, and Bard accepted it all. The horror, the fear, the grey, colorless world he had to enter to rescue his son. The order he gave for his Guardians to slay both him and his son to protect their people, and his terror when those arrows were loosed. The rage that overcame him as he cut out Pallando's tongue. Elrond grabbing him by the shoulders to make him let go of his anger, keeping him from being possessed himself.
All of it.
All of Thranduil's fears for his son, his joy when Legolas woke up and asked to go home, his worry for Turamarth, his guilt and grief over the deaths of Nuín and Nualë, the ache of missing the rest of the children, the emptiness he felt because Bard was so far away…
All of it.
And Bard saw the horror of it, accepted it, and kissed him until he knew his Elf's burden was, while not completely lifted, at least shared.
When they came to their shining moment, the bright lights and stars healed much of the hurt, as did the tears they shed after.
"I almost lost you," he murmured, holding him tight, so he'd never get away again. "Oh, gods, I almost lost you…"
"Oh Bard... I never wanted to die; please, believe me!" Thranduil sobbed in his shoulder. "I never wanted to give the order, but I could not risk it; please, please forgive me!"
"It would have killed me if you and Legolas had died, and I can't say I'd accept it for a long time, but I do understand." Bard stroked his head and kissed his face. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."
"It was one of the hardest things I have ever done, Meleth nîn. To know I would be sitting in Mandos' Halls, knowing that the children would be so hurt, that Tilda would hate me for leaving her by choice… Goheno nin, Meleth nîn."
"Look at me," he said, and when the Elf opened his eyes again, he smiled. "Do you know what would have happened if that arsehole gotten away with it? You would have come back to me possessed by a dangerous monster, just like that thrall wanted to own me last year!"
"But—"
"No buts, love," Bard caressed his face. "If Jarod's plan had succeeded; I would have ended up in that fire, too, and rightly so!" 1
Thranduil breath caught. "I do not think I could have done it."
"You would have done it, to save our family and our people then, and you did right this time, too." He kissed Thranduil's forehead. "There is nothing to forgive; do you hear me? Nothing! I thank the Valar every minute of every day for such a brave, loving husband."
Elvenking covered his face and lost complete control, as Bard held him tight and let him cry it out.
"I know it was bad, and it will take a while to get past it," he whispered, as he cupped the back of the Elf's head, "but for now, feel my arms around you, look up at the stars in the ceiling. Think how it will feel when you see the children again. Our love is real, and it's the only thing that matters."
Thranduil snuggled into him as he tried to calm down. "Will you do something for me?"
"Anything you want."
"Take me home in the morning? I know I need to speak with Galion, but I need…"
"...to see your Gwinïg smile up at you with those beautiful green eyes and tell you how much she loves you?"
"Yes…"
"And Sigrid and Bain to gather everyone into a group hug?"
"That, too."
"And you need our Little Bean run into your arms, to climb all over you and scold you for being away?"
The Elf swallowed and nodded.
Then that's what we'll do. After we meet with Galion and Rôg, we'll go home, love."
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18th August 2944 T.A.
A habitual early riser, Bard rolled over onto his back and smiled up at the Stars on the ceiling of their room at the Palace. He always enjoyed taking a few minutes to study them and remember his father's voice as he taught them the constellations. The day would come when he would move into these rooms permanently, leaving the care of Dale into the hands of his children.
He doesn't often think about that day, but when it creeps up on him, he becomes filled with joy, and dread. It will be a wrench, but Bard owed it to Thranduil to be brave about it; his Elf has already sacrificed much of his own time and attention to be at his side now, to mentor all of them.
But that was decades away, and each day has enough trouble of its own.
He slipped out of bed quietly, and after visiting the privy, he spoke to the guards in the Hall.
Bard entered their bedroom, sat on the bed, and smiled down at his sleeping husband, so near, so utterly beautiful, and his. Smooth, creamy skin, white-blonde hair spun from pure silk, and dark, majestic eyebrows that could say a thousand different things, long, black eyelashes that fanned out over high cheekbones in a heart-shaped face, as he slept.
He picked up a lock of silky hair and tickled the end of it under the Elf's nose. "Wakey-wakey," he whispered. "Come on, love, rise and shine."
The Elf jerked awake, his blue eyes opened, and for a fleeting second, they widened in fear, then lit up with joy as his gaze rested on the Bowman.
"You are so damned beautiful, you know that?" Bard grinned, as he leaned down to kiss him. "I hated to wake you, but we've got a busy day ahead, if you want to go back to Dale."
The Elf sat up quickly and threw the covers back with a grin. "I do! Are Galion and Rôgon coming for breakfast?"
"I told Ivran to give our invitation to them first thing," the Bowman told him. "I also took the liberty of letting everyone else know we wanted it to be just the four of us."
The Elvenking's brows furrowed thoughtfully. "I did not think if that, but yes, that would be best."
"Hey," Bard put his hands on Thranduil's hips and pulled him close. "Do I know my Elf, or do I know my Elf?"
"I am in excellent hands – literally and figuratively." He kissed Bard's nose.
"Yes, you are," the Bowman snorted. "I think it's best if we take turns in the closet; you get washed up while I get dressed— Why do you look so disappointed?"
"I am fond of that closet with you in it," Elf pouted.
Bard shrugged. "Fair's fair, I suppose," he grabbed Thranduil's arm. "Come on, then; we'll leave the door unlocked, then Galion and Rôg will see why you're so attached to that Emerald Necklace—"
"Bard!" Thranduil's jaw dropped, then fled to wash up, as Bard headed in the opposite direction.
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"Lords Galion and Rôgon to see you, Erain nîn."
Clearly the Aide and the Blacksmith expected to be confronted about their elopement, but Bard knew his Elf's heart. The minute Galion's face appeared, Thranduil rushed forward, wrapped his arms around him, and lost his composure.
Bard approached Rôgon and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations, my friend. I'm happy for both of you."
"I thank you, My Lord." Rôg clasped his wrist, before they turned back to their respective spouses.
"Adannauth…" Thranduil's voice cracked. "Oh, Galion—"
"Na vedui…" Galion's eyes registered surprise for an instant, then returned his embrace. "Ai, mîr hênig…" he stroked the back of Thranduil's head and soothed him. ""When Elrond told us what happened, I could not bear the thought of it."
He lifted his head and held the Elvenking's face and looked into his tear-filled eyes. "Are you sure you are all right, Thranduil?"
"I am. I only need to see the rest of the children, and my happiness will be complete." He wiped his eyes with a laugh. "You have married!"
"Ah, yes… well that must have been a surprise…"
"A shock is more like it," Bard smirked then quickly covered it with a cough.
"I am sorry about that," the Aide winced. "I forgot to lock the door after we put the lunch dishes out."
"I should have knocked." Thranduil looked sheepish. "But that is not important, Mellon. I was saying to Bard yesterday how much I treasure having someone to be a 'witness to my heart,' and I see that you have found yours; at last you understand what a joy this is."
"It is," Rôgon smiled down at his husband. "There are two of us now."
"I know we should have waited to speak with you first, but—"
Thranduil held his shoulders. "No, Galion; it was exactly right. I see the happiness in your eyes, and that is the only thing that matters. No one deserves this more."
He turned to Rôgon, "You will take care of Galion, protect him, and treasure him the way he has always deserved?"
"I will, My Lord." The blacksmith stepped forward and saluted. "It will be my privilege."
The Elvenking smiled, "Welcome to the family."
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"Ready, love?" Bard smiled over at him, astride Fînlossen, who was tossing his head and pawing the ground. "Calm down, lad," he stroked his neck. "We'll get there, soon, yeah?"
"He is eager to be home, too." Thranduil eyed the white stallion curiously.
"Galion's not the only one who got married while you were away," the Bowman grinned.
"Fînlossen?"
"Yep. Do you remember Bowen's horse?"
"That roan mare Turamarth bought him?"
"Yep. Vórima went into season just after you left, so this big boy's gonna be a Da, next year."
"Really?" The Elvenking's eyes brightened.
"Yep. Daeron came to see me just after they brought Turamarth home, and asked if he could use Fînlossen for stud. It would be a good long-term project for Bowen and Tur to work on together."
"How is Tur?"
Bard's face grew serious. "It's slow going, love. But we're not giving up on him."
"No," he said quietly, "we will not."
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Their escort was getting into formation, when they heard one of the Guardians call out, "Wait, My Lord!"
Bard glanced over his shoulder and laughed. "Will you look at that!"
Thranduil turned Naurmôr around, and his heart swelled. Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir rode up beside them with grins on their faces.
"You are sure you are ready?" he asked his son.
"I am, Ada." Legolas's mouth was set with determination.
"Thank you, Ion nîn." Thranduil's throat clenched, and he reached over and patted his shoulder. "Ride with me, my son?"
"All the way, Aran nîn. As far as you want me to go."
From the corner of this eye, he saw Bard's approving smile, and the Bowman tactfully pulled behind, to ride with the twins.
And they rode until they reached the Gates of Dale. The Bells rang to signal the return of the Kings, and the arrival of the Elven Prince along with the sons of Elrond.
They smiled, and waved to the crowds, accepted flowers, as they made their way through the winding streets to the top of the City, toward the domed roof of the Great Hall of Dale, and the red roof of Girion's Castle.
The entrance to the Courtyard was just ahead, where their children were waiting. Thranduil's vision blurred, and he struggled to make out familiar faces, as he listened the shouts of welcome from their people.
A petite little girl with huge blue eyes, wavy brown hair, and a brilliant smile waited for him.
"Ada! ADAAAAAAA!" Tilda screamed, as she let go of her sister's hand and ran, skirts and hair flying in the wind. "Adaaaaa!"
His heart leaping with joy, the Elvenking made a spectacular leap off his horse, landed gracefully on the ground, opened his arms, and raced to his Tithen Pen.
Then she was in his arms, safe and sound and warm. Her arms were tight around his neck, and he smelled her hair and thanked the Valar that, after everything he'd been through, he could see her and hold her, and that, at last their family would be together.
And he wept.
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Adannauth – Father of my heart
Ai, hên faeg nîn – Oh, my poor child…
Ai, mîr hênig – Oh, my precious child
Ci orch 'waur! – You're a dirty Orc!
Ego! – Fuck off!
Erain nîn – My Kings
Goheno nin – Forgive me
Ionnauth – Son of my Heart
Iston – I know.
Na vedui… - At last…
Naurmôr – "Black Fire" Thranduil's black stallion.
Tithen Pen – Little One
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NOTES:
[1] From An Invincible Summer, Chapter 38: /works/14127870/chapters/37497905
"Tarnin Austa (meaning "Gates of Summer") was held on the first day of summer. It was custom to begin a solemn ceremony at midnight, continuing it until dawn of Tarnin Austa. No-one could speak from midnight to daybreak, but upon the rising of the Sun they would burst into ancient songs, with choirs standing upon the eastern wall. At that time the city was filled with silver lamps, and lights of jeweled colors hung on the branches of the new-leaved trees." - J.R.R. Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien (ed.), The Book of Lost Tales Part Two, pp. 172, 211, 347
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