Chapter Forty-Three
SUMMARY: As Tur's exchange year comes to a close, our merry band of characters gather for the long trip to see the wonders of the Golden Wood, and attend a Very Special Wedding.
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"When I fall in love, it will be forever
Or I'll never fall in love
In a restless world like this is
Love is ended before it's begun
And too many moonlight kisses
Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun
When I give my heart, it will be completely
Or I'll never give my heart
And the moment I can feel that
you feel that way too
Is when I fall in love
With you…"
Sung by Nat King Cole
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City of Dale, 3rd of August 2946 T.A.
Bain, son of Bard, Crown Prince of Dale, stepped out of the heavy doors of the Castle that will one day be his, and observed the controlled chaos in the Courtyard. Everybody seemed to be running in different directions, but with a purpose. Feren had the Guardians under control, and Greta and Hilda knew what they were doing.
"Okay, do we have everything?" Hilda's hands were on her hips, as she eyed the wagons piled high with trunks, foodstuffs and other supplies.
"I don't see how, Auntie Hil; you've double- and triple checked everything on the lists, then had Greta go over it." Bain was a full head taller than his Auntie Hil now, and two inches taller than his own Da. Like his father, his hair grew in thick and wavy, and he liked to wear it down around his shoulders, though sometimes he pulled it back like his Elven friend Vildan used to do when he was here. Unlike his Da, and to Bain's great delight, he was starting to grow a beard, and from the looks of things, it would be full and thick, like the grandfather he was named after.
"Do we have everybody? Where are Bowen and Rhys?"
"They'll meet you at the stables on the way out of the City. Bowen wanted to say goodbye to Vórima and her colt, and get acquainted the horse Falarion sent him to ride."
The Seneschal of Dale turned to the tall boy and threw her arms around him. "I'm proud of you my lad. You'll do fine, I know it."
Bain leaned down and kissed the top of her head and said in a voice that seemed to get deeper by the day, "I'll do my best, Auntie Hil. You and Uncle Percy just have a good time. You haven't had a real rest since Laketown was destroyed and you all need it."
"Your Da is still finding reasons not to go," she chuckled into his muscular chest.
"I know," he stepped back and smiled down at her, as the King of Dale's worried voice reached their ears.
"I still don't know about this…" Bard shook his head as he and Thranduil came out wearing their mithril armor. "This just doesn't feel right."
The Elvenking had his arm firmly around his husband's shoulders. "I am the one with the gift of insight, Meleth nîn, and I see nothing to be concerned about but a King who refuses to enjoy himself on his holiday. Now get up on that horse and let us have a wonderful time."
"Oh, lordy; is Da still balking?" Sigrid joined them, pulling on her riding gloves. She looked stunning in her crimson riding suit with the split skirt and high boots. "Come on, Da. Bain will be fine."
"It's just that…" the King of Dale's forehead wrinkled with worry. "I've never left them alone for this long…"
"What better way to gauge the strength of a Kingdom than to leave it on its own?" Thranduil reminded him. "We have talked about this: Bain will send regular messages by bird and Mablung will be here to run the Army, and…" he spoke in low tones to Bard as he steered him down the steps to where his white stallion was waiting.
"Do you really think he'll make it past the Palace?" Bain grinned.
"Oh, he'll go, if I have to tie him down and throw him in back of one of the wagons," Hilda giggled.
"Ada's been dying to show you guys around Lothlórien, and I'll be going next year," the Crown Prince kissed both her knuckles. "I want to do this, Auntie. I've got the Council and Tauriel to help, and if there's a real problem, you know Uncle Daín will be here within two hours and Legolas will be spending most of his time with me. It's all going to be fine."
"You betcha," she patted his cheek, then rolled her eyes. "I'm more worried about your Uncle Percy; his hip has been bothering him more than he'll let on and Daeron doesn't want him riding that much."
"Oh, that'll be fun." Bain winced.
The rest of the family spilled out unto the dais. An hour ago, Rôgon arrived with Galion arrived who was still sniffling after a tearful goodbye to Lorda, who would be looked after by their part-time housekeeper, Freya and her husband.
"He will be fine, Meleth nîn," Rôgon kissed Galion on the temple. "Lorda adores Freya, and between the two of you, I do not know which of you spoils that cat more."
"But—"
"We both agreed he would be much better off staying here. Do you not recall that debacle at the Palace during Yule? 1 They still refer to it there as 'The Incident.'"
"He was just a little out of sorts," Galion pouted. "It could happen to any cat."
"Hervenn nîn, the guards were lined up in the Hall outside the Infirmary full of scratches and bites! Did you not see all those bandages during the Yule Ball?"
"Thranduil?" he called. "Please—"
The Elvenking and his husband skewered the Aide with their eyes. "I absolutely forbid it." Thranduil said, in a tone that brooked no argument.
Galion heaved a longsuffering sigh and accepted his fate.
Greta, Cook and the rest of the Castle staff came out to wish the Royal Family farewell.
"Safe journeys, My Lords," the housekeeper curtsied, before she hugged Sigrid and Tilda. "Now, you girls be good for your Das and tell me all about it when you come back, aye?"
"We will!" Tilda was grinning from ear to ear, looking cute in her new green outfit. To her Ada's chagrin, his Tithen pen had gone through a growth spurt during the last year, and needed new clothes and shoes almost as fast as Glélindë and her staff could make them. "Oh, I can't wait to get there! There's Rhian and Darryn!" she waved.
Darryn wiggled against his mother's hip to be put down and he rushed up the steps to throw his arms around Cooks legs. "Hi, Wewis!"
"Hey yourself, little man," Lewis squatted down and handed the boy a cookie. "Now, I'm giving your Mam some more of these, but you have to be a very good boy and do what she says, aye?"
"Uh huh!" the little boy nodded and took a bite. "M'bye," he said with a full mouth.
Lewis took his red handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his eyes. One of the kitchen maids handed him a cloth sack, which was passed to Rhian. "Here's for the little lad, M'Lady."
"Thank you," she stood on tiptoe and kissed the man on the cheek. "Come on, lovey. Grammy and Grandad are waiting for me in the wagon, and your Ada says you can ride with him on Aegis."
Darryn's eyes grew into saucers, and he searched the courtyard for his father. "Ada!" He threw up his arms and tried to race down the steps, but Tilda caught his hand and helped him run over to Daeron, who was holding his dapple grey stallion's bridle. He was stroking the big horse's nose and speaking in Quenya.
Bain couldn't help but laugh. "Do you think he'll be this happy for the entire trip?"
Rhian heaved a huge sigh. "My lands I hope so. Tur would be heartbroken if we didn't bring him." She shrugged. "If he gets too ornery, Daeron can always make him sleep, especially when we ride through the Forest." She kissed the young prince's cheek. "You're going to be great, Bain."
"Thanks," he said. "Have a good time!"
Tauriel was in the Courtyard, hugging everyone goodbye. When the Caravan was ready to leave, she stood next to Bain, and placed a firm grip on his shoulder.
After he waved his family off, he stood on the dais for several minutes, but his older sister's hand was still there.
"You will be fine," she said quietly, with a reassuring smile that showed her dimples.
"Aye, but I'll miss them," he sighed. Then the Crown Prince straightened his shoulders, and turned around. "Let's make them proud, yeah?"
"We will. And may I suggest something, My Lord?" Tauriel smirked.
"Stop calling me that," he nudged his sister with his shoulder. "What?"
"When you send birds to your father, let Galion know how his cat is doing?"
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Lothlórien, 19th of August 2946 T.A.
What a year it has been! Admittedly, the first few months of his exchange year was rough, as he faced the demons of his past, with the help of his good friend Rúmil, as well as Galadriel. At first, he was furious when every detail of his attack was revealed in the Mirror, and even though the Lady came to find him and eased his distress, it took a while for him to get past the humiliation. It also took a while for him to accept that Evvy did not propose marriage out of pity or obligation.
"I do not see you for what was done to you, my love," she said with love in her eyes. "I think of how hard you worked to overcome it, and now you are stronger. Do you not see how brave you are? Many would allow those wounds to fester and make them bitter, yet you do not hide from the world; you still wish to serve and protect others! You, more than most, understand the evils that threaten our world, and yet you still want to face them!" she caressed his face with her soft hands and drew his lips down to hers. "You are my hero," she whispered, just before she captured his mouth in a sweet kiss.
Apparently Evvy wasn't the only one to think him a hero.
Two weeks ago, Turamarth and Evranin were surprised to be summoned and asked to kneel before the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood. Celeborn touched each of Tur's shoulders with his sword, while Galadriel placed a crown of leaves on her head. On the day of their marriage, Turamarth and Evranin will be awarded the titles of Lord and Lady of the House of the Dove.
It was a great honor, though Tur wasn't quite sure what to do with it. When he took Lord Celeborn aside and confided this to him, he smiled and patted his shoulder.
"You are still a Captain in the Woodland Realm. For now, all you need do is return home, serve your King, and make a good life for Aewpîn and the family you will have."
The green and yellow banner now lay in a trunk along with the rest of Evvy's things to take to Dale. As for himself, he had only a small trunk with his extra clothing, and a long padded case that held his practice swords and spare weaponry. As with Daeron during his year here, a Farewell Feast will be held just before he and his unit leave to escort the Wedding Party back to Dale, and his Guardians will be presented with their special Galadhrim bows to commemorate their time here. Rúmil couldn't wait, and talked Haldir into giving Turamarth his bow last night, and it was truly a beauty. As they spent the next several hours sipping wine and talking, his fingers caressed the wood from the famous trees, and ran his fingers over the engraved message.
This morning, Turamarth lounged in his chair on the balcony of the Marchwarden's Talon, there is no way to actually see the sun come up, but he still enjoyed watching the early morning light brighten until the sun threw long, bright spears through the leaves of the Mallyrn trees above his head, and land on the Forest Floor, where the Galadhrim were beginning their day.
He especially enjoyed the view of the sunrise from the Eastern parapet in Dale with his friends on guard duty. If Darryn woke early and the weather was warm, he took his little nephew, telling him stories and pointing out the landmarks of Dale while his Gwador and Gwathel enjoyed a few more minutes of sleep.
He had been away from his Pînig for almost a year and though Rhian's frequent letters catalogued each of Darryn's milestones and accomplishments, he now understood Daeron's pain. When his cousin returned to Dale after his own exchange year, the hardly recognized the baby he had left behind.
Would Darryn remember his beloved Uncle Tur and run into his arms?
He would soon find out. Lord Celeborn received a message last evening, and they had managed to fix the problems with one of the wagons and push their arrival back by only one day instead of two.
It was really happening. He and Evvy were getting married three day's hence, and they would be joined in body and soul as husband and wife.
"Good morning, Mellon." Haldir and Rúmil came out to join them with their own cups, and relaxed in other two chairs. "Today is the day," the Marchwarden said.
"Not quite yet," Tur laughed softly. "But I am anxious to see my family again."
"Before they arrive," Rúmil cleared his throat, "we need to give you our wedding gift."
"That is not necessary," Tur told them.
"Oh, but you will like this one," the young Warden chuckled. "Tell him, Haldir."
"As I am sure you know," Haldir said, "the combs Rhian wore on the occasion of her marriage was a gift from me."
"They are exquisite," he said.
"Did Daeron ever tell you the reason I gave them to him?"
He shrugged slightly. "Only that you wanted him to have them."
The Marchwarden grew pensive and studied the contents of his cup for a few minutes, but Tur remained patient. Haldir like his own Adar, would not be rushed; they needed to speak in their own time. Eventually, he opened his mouth and said, "Those combs were meant for the Elleth I should have married."
The Guardian voice grew soft. "I take she was…"
"Killed, yes, but I will not go into detail. I gave them to Daeron, because it seemed wrong that they be hidden away, never to be used or appreciated."
"I promise you, they are," Tur smiled, as he sat back and rested his ankle over his other knee. "As a high-ranking Lady of Dale, Rhian could have her pick of any tiara she wants, but she has refused, saying those combs mean much more."
"I am glad." Haldir have him a rare smile, and Rúmil was beaming.
"What?" his eyes darted between the two.
The brothers exchanged knowing looks. "We have a surprise," Haldir smirked. "Should we tell him, Rúmil?"
Turamarth set his cup on one of the side tables and eyed the Marchwarden curiously. "Tell me what?"
"I think so," Rúmil agreed.
"You will not be getting married here in the city. Haldir and I offered the use of our cottage in the South for your, as the Men say, 'honeymoon.' When the Lady recalled the lovely waterfall nearby, Evvy decided she wanted to be married there. Once the guests leave, you and your new wife will enjoy an entire week of privacy. What a better way to start a marriage, yes?"
The Guardian's jaw went slack. "You would do this for us?"
"Of course, we would." Rúmil took his last sip and rose with a satisfied stretch. "Now, as much as I would delight to welcome Orophin and the others home, I am afraid must miss the activities. I am meeting my Wardens in an hour to escort some of the Lord and Lady's servants to set up tents and make sure the cottage is ready for your wedding night." 2
After he went inside, Haldir leaned forward slightly and said, "Turamarth, you are not just my brother's friend; I consider you mine, as well. Rúmil suffered from the Blue Wizard more than he would ever admit, and while I am overjoyed to see you overcome your difficulties," the Elf paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was rough with emotion, "your presence, your friendship, has helped to bring him back to us. Our family is in your debt."
"There is no debt, Mellon nîn." Turamarth sighed and glanced up at the trees. "I never thought I would feel sad and leaving this place, but my heart feels heavy at the thought of riding out through those Gates. I love my home, Haldir, both in the Woodland and Dale, but now, when I think of the Golden Wood, my heart will be light."
"It helps that you will be bringing one of our lights with you," Haldir said, resting his hand over Turamarth's. "Know this as my sacred vow: if ever you or any member of your family needs help, I am at your disposal."
Tur was on his feet in an instant, and threw his arms around the Marchwarden. "I have no words, Mellon nîn."
"You had better come up with something," Haldir clapped him on the back with a laugh. "If you cannot speak your vows during the Blessing, there will be no Joining! Now, while my erstwhile brother is off to the South, I must make ready to escort our guests to the City. Captain, I want your unit at the fountain at the noon hour, dressed in full armor!"
"Yes, Marchwarden!" Tur bowed, saluted, and went to dress.
Four hours later, he stood in front of his unit in his golden armor. The cape bearing the golden embroidery along the sides to distinguish his rank, was folded back over his right shoulder. Outwardly, he appeared calm and commanding, though a small smile tugged at his lips. Inwardly, the blood was rushing through his veins, his heart pounded hard enough to bruise his ribs, and he had to force his hands to keep still. Deep breath, curl the toes, let it out slowly… Again…
From his left, the Lord and Lady approached, along with Mithrandir and a blonde Elleth with dark velvet eyes he wanted to drown in.
"Tur!" Evvy ran over to him, giving his attire an appreciative look. "You look so handsome!"
"Thank you, Erbain nîn." He leaned down and kissed the top of her nose. "So, when am I allowed to count all your freckles?"
"When I say so," she giggled and smacked him on the arm, "and not one moment before."
"Are you ready, Captain?" Lady Galadriel approached them with a smile.
"My Lady," he said after a respectful bow. "Thank you for helping Evvy to have the wedding of her dreams."
"It is entirely our pleasure," Galadriel's gaze fell upon her young charge's face, then lifted her deep blue eyes to look deep into him, and he fought the urge to step back.
You worry, Guardian…
He swallowed hard, but could not look away. Beside her, the keen blue eyes of the Wizard studied him from under bushy grey brows.
Will you let your fears stop you, Turamarth Ómarion?
Still meeting her eyes, Tur's fingers lifted and grasped the golden jewel that hung outside of his armor. His head slowly turned back and forth.
To his relief, this seemed to satisfy the Lady and Mithrandir concerns, and they turned away and busied themselves with other matters.
But he still deep, deep inside, a part of him dreaded their wedding night.
"I can't believe we're finally here!" Tilda squealed, when they reached the Gates of the Golden Wood."
Thranduil smiled down at their youngest child, who was perched in front of him. "I can tell from the way you are squirming, Tithen pen. Can you behave like a Royal Princess when the Wardens come out to meet us?"
"Yes, Ada," she tittered. "It's just that I've waited forever to see the trees again! I want to see if they're still just like that dream I had."
"Can we please not talk about that?" Bard's forehead crinkled.
"Why?" Tilda asked.
"Our memory of that time is somewhat different, my little love." 3
"Well, I don't remember that part," she sighed. "But I still want to see those trees."
"We will be there soon, Tithen pen; for now, Ada has some things to take care of." Thranduil held up his hand and shouted, "DARO!"
It took a few minutes for the caravan to come to a complete stop. After a bit of shuffling, they arranged themselves in proper order and proceeded the last two miles to the Gates of the Golden Wood with all the pomp and circumstance required for Two Kings of the North.
This also meant that Princess Tilda had to leave her pride of place with her Ada, go back to the wagons, which pleased her not at all, but but rules were put in place for a reason, and she knew enough to respect them.
A formal Galadhrim escort was waiting, headed by the Marchwarden of Lothlórien himself, who lowered his head and offered a formal salute. "On behalf of Galadriel and Celeborn, I bid you welcome, Thranduil, son of Oropher, King of the Woodland Realm, most beloved kin of My Lord and Lady. Too long has it been since you graced the Golden Wood for a joyous occasion. May your stay in our fair land be blessed and free of incident."
From far behind him, Thranduil's excellent Elven hearing heart Percy mutter, "Boy, I sure hope so. The last thing we need is another deranged Wizard running about."
"Hush!" That was Hilda, smacking his arm. "Thranduil can hear you!"
A noise, which quickly turned into a cough came from Ivran to his left. The Elvenking chose to ignore it, and returned Haldir's salute with equally formal words.
The Marchwarden turned his attention to his husband and offered the same, saying, "Bard, son of Brand, Dragonslayer of Laketown, consort of Thranduil and King of Dale and its surrounding lands, it is my honor, on this Historic occasion, to invite you and your children to enter our Gates and be received by their Serene Highnesses, the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien."
Thranduil looked on with pride as Bard wearing the gold circlet from his coronation, solemnly bowed his head and offered his leather-clad hand in a perfect Elven salute. He looked resplendent in his mithril armor, gleaming in the sun. His Bowman stood proud and tall in the saddle, but Bard hardly needed no royal trappings. From the day he saw the Man, dressed in rage in the ruins of Dale, he saw a true King.
A sudden wave of desire washed over him, and he could hardly wait to ravish him high in the trees…
"Thranduil?" Bard whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
The Elvenking shook himself, "Many pardons, Marchwarden. You were saying?"
Haldir smothered a smile and said. "It is hardly important. Please, follow me."
The ornate Gates opened, and Thranduil took his family to the most magical place on Middle Earth.
"Holy shit balls," Bard murmured softly, his head craned upward. "I have never seen anything like it."
Thranduil pulled his horse closer and took his hand and brought his knuckles to his lips. "I wanted you on my right, so I could watch you, Meleth nîn. Is it not incredible?" He turned in his saddle and called back to Ruvyn, "If Lady Tilda wishes, she may ride with you. Stay close to Lady Sigrid and the boys."
"Yes, My Lord."
"Oh, goodie!" came her cry of delight. "Come on, Ruvyn! Hurry!"
Up ahead, the Galadhrim enjoyed the "Oohs and Aahs" from their guests, both Elven and human.
Orophin, who had enjoyed his exchange year in the North, rode beside his older brother, and the rest of the returning Wardens mingled with their brethren and did the same.
"Do you see Rúmil?" Airen asked Cwën. Neither of the Wardens, now living with their husbands in the North had been back since Cwën's and Ivran's wedding. With a pang of regret, Thranduil never thought of it. To his relief, their spouses were attentive.
"Are you eager to return?" Lieutenant Elion asked his wife.
"I am, Meleth nîn," came Airen's reply. "This will always be my homeland; I will not allow my memory to be tarnished."
"And you, my beloved?" came Ivran's concerned question.
"No ghosts will haunt me here," Cwën promised. "The trees are singing to welcome us, not warn us."
"And you, My Lord?" Ivran asked him.
"Your wife speaks the truth, and rarely have I heard such a lovely song. Thranduil closed his eyes, tilted his head back, inhaled the sweet, clean air of his cousin's realm. For the next three weeks, he and Bard didn't have to be Kings, they were simply two fathers on a holiday.
"Oh, there he is! There he is!" Rhian cried out with joy, as Turamarth came into her line of sight.
Daeron loved watching her emerald green eyes widen in amazement as they entered the Gates of the Golden Wood. Her reaction to the sights and wonders of Lothlórien was everything he had hoped for, and his heart stirred with love and pride. Long had he dreamed of bringing his Hind Calen here, and after the days of celebration were over, he planned to take her by the hand and show her his favorite streams and pools and fill her thick curls with Elanor blossoms.
Up ahead, his King appeared to relish Lord Bard's reaction to this wondrous place. He moved Naurmôr closer to Fînlossen and took the King of Dale's hand to kiss. Bard threw back his head and laughed, and went back to taking in the sights.
He was tempted to ask his wife to wake the baby up so he could see, but decided to let peace and quiet prevail. Darryn was wonderful for the first eleven days and nights during their trip, but alas, even good little boys have a limit, and his waking hours were a misery. Bless his Elven companions who were patient and managed to soothe the restless and cranky child through the last three days.
Daeron rode into Caras Galadhon beside Feren, and the rest of the Elven escort accompanied the rest of the Royal Family, along with Turamarth's family and friends.
From his perch atop Aegis, he located Tur standing tall and proud with his unit, and his heart nearly burst with happiness. His cousin caught his eye and his face lit up with a huge smile. Ah, the year had truly been good for him, though he would only find true joy after he married his bond-mate.
A true Elven joining was what he wanted for his Gwador, and he prayed that Turamarth would have the same powerful experience that he shared with Rhian. Only then would he truly stop worrying.
Please… he prayed, looking up to the sky. Please, let him have this…
The short ceremony was over, and the crowds surged forward to mingle in a delightful muddle of hugs, kisses and joyful tears. Tur rushed to the wagon, effortlessly lifted Rhian out of the wagon and whirled her around as he hugged her tight. Daeron jumped from his saddle and ran to meet their embrace.
"Na mhedui!" he cried, returning Tur's embrace. "Gwannas lûmh and."
"I missed your ugly face, as well." Tur laughed as he wiped his eyes. "Where is he?" he asked. "Please tell me you brought him?"
Rhian's mouth lifted in a half-smile as her thumb pointed toward the wagon. "Go get him!"
Tur grinned as he lifted the sleeping boy and gracefully jumped to the ground. Darryn stirred with a small whine as he blinked himself awake. His little brows furrowed as he contemplated the weeping Elf who held him.
A spark of recognition lit in his eyes. "Unca Tur?" he said sleepily.
"Yes," Turamarth laughed. "How you have grown, Pînig!"
"Unca Tur!" the boy shrieked and wiggled until his little arms were around his uncle's neck.
He tousled the boy's hair. "I have missed you, child."
"You went away," Darryn's lower lip wobbled.
"I know, and I am sorry, for that."
"If I come back, would you forgive me?"
"Uh huh," the little boy wiped his eyes and pouted. "C'n you get me a pony?"
"Darryn!" Rhian laughed.
"I will do more than that," Tur promised, "I will get you your very own Aunt Evvy and a pony!" Then he blew a raspberry into his neck, making the boy giggle.
They were interrupted by their parents. Indis and Ómar greeted their son with tears of joy, and Idril and Adamar stood next to them, waiting for their own hugs.
Their family was together again at last, and would soon grow bigger. A lump grew in Daeron's throat, just as a warm body was pressed into his side.
"All right, babe?" Rhian smiled up at him.
"I am wonderful," he kissed her forehead.
"Rhian!" Evvy picked up her skirts and ran over to them. "I am so happy to see you!"
"Rhian threw herself into Evvy's arm with a tearful embrace. "You look radiant!" she cried and grasped the Elleth's hands. "Has our Gwador truly made you this happy?"
"More than you can possibly know," Evvy grinned from ear to ear. "And your Sindarin has improved! There is hardly a trace of an accent!"
"Thank you," she said modestly. "I've been working on it."
"Darryn is picking it up, too, so my wife and I can no longer speak Sindarin to keep him from guessing what we are saying."
"Oh, dear" Evvy laughed.
"Lothlórien is everything you told me it was! I think my neck is going to hurt from looking up at those trees, it is so beautiful."
"I am so glad you like it," the Elleth's eyes brightened. "I asked Lady Galadriel if I could take you to your rooms, so we could visit. Tur has Darryn, I see, and he will be along shortly. Please, come with me."
Daeron enjoyed the lively chatter between is wife and future in-law, as he followed them around the Forest Floor. When they reached a guest house lower to the ground that most of the other houses Evvy told them, "Tur and was worried about Darryn, so we arranged for you to have this Talon. He and Rúmil put up the guardrails a few weeks ago. I am afraid you will need to watch him carefully, as I am sure little boys are not used to such heights."
"Do not worry," Daeron said. "I asked the Tannery in Dale to make a special harness that will attach to my belt so even if he falls, it will not be far."
"Knowing our son, he'll turn it into a game and dive off on purpose," Rhian sighed.
"The boy is fearless," Daeron grinned. "This summer, I strapped him to my back and took him for a run through the treetops."
"Which means his mother's hair will turn white before he turns six years old." Rhian rolled her eyes. "Come on; the servants have brought our trunks already so let's get unpacked and get ready for the Feast tonight."
"I will see you there!" Evvy waved goodbye and went back to the activities.
The Elf gathered his wife in his arms and whispered in her ear, "I love you."
"I love you more," Rhian whispered back.
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Erbain nîn – My Fair One
Gwannas lûmh and – It has been too long.
Lorda – Lazy
Na mhedui! – At last!
Gîl-Naur – Sun-Star, the necklace given to Tur by Galadriel to bring him help.
Gîl-Cýron - Moon Star, Evvy's necklace made by Nienna and the now-redeemed Saeros.
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NOTES:
1 Broken Wings, Ch. 33: /works/20519588/chapters/57204004
2 Broken Wings, Ch. 39: /works/20519588/chapters/60744946
3 An Invincible Summer, Ch. 38: /works/14127870/chapters/37497905
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