14

Chapter Three

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SUMMARY: Chief Healer and his wife confirm Daeron's suspicions, but want more information before they declare Ellyn's case hopeless.

Bard and Thranduil get ready to play host for their overnight guests, and do their best to make them feel at home.

And, naturally, the Elvenking makes a fuss over the baby...

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City of Dale; Early evening, 17th of July 2942 T.A.

Tumors were something Daeron had had come across often in his years working in Old Dale. Men and women's bodies sometimes produced them for unknown reasons. And if it was in the woman's brain… He could scarcely entertain the thought.

Their song was finished. Ermon moved Daeron's hands off and they both opened their eyes.

"How do you feel, good Lady?" the Chief Healer leaned down asked her kindly.

"My headache's gone." Ellyn sighed with relief. "Thank you!"

"It is our pleasure." He patted her hand. "If you would excuse us, I must to confer with my colleagues for a moment, but first, let me help you lie down so you can relax." He eased her back and his wife placed pillows under her head and knees.

"I was right, was I not?" Daeron, asked Ermon once they were in the hall.

"I am afraid so." Ermon told him gravely. "And it appears to be malevolent. I am very sorry." Where is her family?"

"My question is, has it spread?" Elénaril forehead wrinkled with concern.

"She is right, Daeron. It would be best if she could stay for a few days. We may be able kill it, although that is not without great risk. Either way, we will need to discover to what extent this has spread."

"And if it has…"

Ermon sighed. "Then keep her as comfortable as possible."

Daeron swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I would like to tell her this, if you will permit it." Daeron offered.

"No, Daeron." The Chief Healer's tone was compassionate, but firm. "We will take things from here."

He opened his mouth to protest, but Elénaril touched his arm. "Your compassion does you credit, but Mistress Ellyn is our patient now, and you step back."

"I am not being territorial, Daeron," Ermon assured him. "Ellyn will need a great deal of care, and she will respond better to treatment if we can gain her trust." Ermon's gave him a pointed look. "Mellon nîn, you know this is best."

The Guardian took a deep breathe and let it out slowly. "I do. Forgive me. May I be present when you tell her?"

"Of course you can." Ermon's face was rich with understanding. "Ellyn will not settle until her children are taken care of."

"Then I will serve in that capacity," he heaved a sigh. "Let us not keep the poor woman waiting."

They silently re-entered the room, the couple taking their places on either side by her head, while Daeron stood at by her feet.

Ellyn lay still, her eyes closed in what he knew was a last, desperate effort to cling to the normality she knew up until two hours ago. When Daeron's gaze fell to the hands fisting in fabric of her skirts, knuckles white, betraying her inner terror, his own fingers dug into the flesh of his thighs. After swallowing down the sudden urge to scream at the heavens, he granted himself a sliver of selfishness, glad Ermon and Elénaril were to be the bearers of news that will shatter her and her family's world forever.

And, not for the first time, Daeron understood: it was not only Ellyn they were concerned about, but for him. Ermon and Elénaril were his colleagues and friends, and understood how sensitive he was. They had seen first-hand the price that came with the extraordinary gifts he'd been given by the Valar.

"How do you feel, Ellyn?" Elénaril stroked her forehead, and gently massaged one of her hands until it relaxed in her own.

Her eyes opened. "My head feels much better," she said. "I should get home to the children soon, so if you could just…" she looked at one, then the other, then finally rested her gaze upon Daeron. "Oh, stars…" the woman went pale. "It's bad, isn't it?"

"My Lady," Ermon was as gentle as possible. "We have discovered the source of your headaches. I need you to be brave, and to listen carefully: there is a growth in your brain, and it looks to be of a dangerous kind. I am so very sorry, dear Lady."

"No, you can't…" Ellyn cried, and struggled to sit up again. "There has to be a mistake! I just can't..."

Elénaril leaned down and supported her back, then sat beside her with her arm around the woman's shoulders. "Daeron is a talented Healer," she said. "When he examined you in your home, he had his suspicions, but wanted to consult with us to make sure. Please understand that we would never say something like this unless we were absolutely sure. But there is more, and you must listen carefully to Master Ermon, all right?"

"Am I going to die?" Ellyn asked the Chief Healer.

"I honestly do not know," he told her. "We need to discover if it has spread anywhere other than your head. If it has not, we can attempt to kill it, and if we are successful, then there is a chance."

"And if it has spread?" Ellyn's voice shook, and she turned to search Elénaril's face.

The Elleth gave the frightened woman a caring smile, and a half-hug. "Then we will do everything we can to reduce your pain and keep you comfortable, so you can be with your children as long as possible."

"I'm all the children have now...". Tears sprang into Ellyn's eyes and spilled down her face. "This is just so cruel."

"Yet, there is some hope," Elénaril reminded her, "Let us hang on to that for as long as we can, and take things as they come, yes?"

The woman nodded worriedly. "What happens now?"

"We need you to remain here for a day or two. You are exhausted, which is dangerous for someone in your condition. During that time give you a thorough examination, and find some answers."

"What about my children?"

"King Bard has is arranged for them to stay with the Royal Family while you are here." Daeron assured her. He is in the waiting room, with Bowen,"

"But I'm nursing Owena!"

"I am afraid you must discontinue," Elénaril told her. "Your body needs the nourishment to fight this. Your daughter is… seven months?"

"Eight."

"Her age should make it a bit easier to wean her off mother's milk. We will send for Hannah right away to help you."

"I just… need a moment for all this to sink in." Ellyn leaned into the Elleth. "I need to figure out how to handle it." The Healer rubbed her shoulder, as the woman buried her face and began to cry.

A small movement drew Daeron's attention. Ermon had taken a moment to step back, close his eyes and rested his hand on his forehead. He took a step toward his friend, but Ermon quickly met his eyes with a glare and shook his head. No! With a quick nod of understanding, the Guardian backed off. The Chief Healer's veneer of confidence and competence was hanging by a thread; any sign of sympathy, and it would disintegrate altogether. Not now; Ermon was telling him, and he was right. Ellyn needed their strength, not their tears.

Ellyn lifted her head wiped her eyes took a deep breath, "I need to see Bowen, but I don't want him to know anything about this, please. If it's bad news, then my kids to hang on to happiness as long as possible."

Daeron reached down and patted her foot. "I will get him. Do you wish to see the King as well?"

"Please send Bowen, but take Lord Bard aside make sure he understands what's going on."

"It will be as you say."

"Thank you."

The Guard went to out to the chairs. Praise Eru, Lord Bard had come, and was speaking to the child in a smooth friendly tone. When he saw the Elf enter, he patted Bowen's head and pointed.

"Daeron!" Bowen jumped to his feet, eyes like saucers. "How is Mam?"

"Anxious to see you," he waved his hand toward the treatment rooms with a smile. "Go on, but please do not run."

"I won't!"

"What is it?" Bard asked quietly, before they followed him.

"A growth in her brain, My Lord. It may be fatal, but I am praying it is not."

"Oh, bloody fuck…"Bard pursed his mouth in anger and disbelief. "Right then. She's staying here?"

"Yes." Daeron told him. "My Lord; the driver from the livery is a friend to Ellyn and her late husband."

"Daffyd? Good to know…" A thoughtful frown drew the King's eyebrows together for a moment, but he soon straightened with a reluctant sigh. "She doesn't want the boy to know?"

Daeron shook his head.

"Right; let's do this."

They went into the room, where mother and son were holding each other tight. "But why do you have to stay?" Bowen was saying. "I could take you home and look after you."

"No, love; the Elves need me to stay for now, so you'll go with King Bard and Daeron." She put her finger under his lowered chin and lifted it to meet her eyes. "You're a good son, but sometimes I want you to be just a boy, and let people take care of you." She gave him a bright smile. "You're going to stay with the most important family in Dale; think of what an adventure that will be! You'll make friends with the Prince and Princesses and you'll have lots of fun."

"Funny you should mention it, Mistress," Bard said, said, a teasing quirk at the corner of his mouth. "I was just telling Bowen that very thing. We also talked about Tauriel's cat, and my dog—" he cocked a dark eyebrow and asked Bowen, "did I mention that Thangon snores so loud, you can hear him from the Great Hall?"

Despite his anxiety, the boy snickered. "No."

"Well," he tilted his head, "the only way you're going to see for yourself is to come with me, then. It's time for supper, and I don't know about you, but I'm starved; what about you?" At the boy's nod, he tousled the boy's hair. "So what do you say we let your Mam get some rest, and I'll bring you to see her tomorrow, all right?"

Bowen didn't answer, but regarded the Chief Healer with eyes huge with anxiety.

The tall, dark- haired Elf got down on one knee. "My name is Ermon," he said seriously, "the Master of this Hall. We are going to put your mother into her own room right behind those back doors, and over the next several days we will carefully examine her to make sure we do everything within our power to help."

"You'll make sure she sleeps?"

"We have a spell called a losta-luith, that will give Mistress Ellyn a long restful night. Is that all right with you?"

Bowen's mouth turned downward as he considered this. "Aye; that will help a lot. Do that, will you? And if you give her eggs in the morning, she likes them scrambled with cheese. It's her favorite. And she only takes a little honey in her tea."

"I like my tea that way, as well." Ermon nodded and asked. "Do you trust me to look after your mother?"

Bowen eyes traveled between Daeron and Lord Bard. "Can you vouch for him?"

The King inclined his head. "Ermon is over 6,000 years old, and he helped save my own life."

"What about her?" the boy pointed to Elénaril. "I remember you from the Elf Kin's Palace. You took care of Mad's sore throat last winter."

She bowed her head and saluted him. "I did indeed, Master Bowen."

"Elénaril helped save Princess Tilda's life." Bard added.

"You can trust them, I promise." Daeron's throat tightened painfully. The sight of this eleven-year-old boy taking on too much responsibility wasn't amusing; it was heartbreaking.

"All right then. I'll come by tomorrow, Mam." He went and kissed his mother, then took Bard's hand. "Let's go so she can rest."

The Healers made ready to take her to a room, while Bard and Daeron went out to the front, as Hannah walked through the door. "My Lord," she gave courtesy. "Hello, Daeron!"

"Hello Hannah," "Ellyn needs to stay here for a few days, so her children will bunk down with us tonight."

"All right," the midwife nodded. "Who has Maddox and Owena?"

"Rhian's at their house with Darryn. I'm about to send a carriage to pick them up, but I'll need your help, getting the baby fed properly."

"Can the baby be brought here?"

Daeron shook his head. "They can give you the details."

"That's fine. I'll meet you at the Castle, all right?"

"Thanks again, Hannah."

They went outside to find the sun low in the West. As they walked, Bard pointed the large dome at the highest point in the City. "That's where we're headed, lad. What do you think?"

"That whole Castle is yours?"

"It doesn't look like much," Bard made a face. "but we call it home. The Great Hall was the first building we finished and we live in the rooms in the back, for now, until the rest of the Dale is rebuilt. Then we can start in on the Castle itself."

"It'll be really big when you're done."

"True, but lots of things will be going on so we'll need the space."

"Like what?" Bowen asked curiously.

"That's a good question…"

The King kept the boy's attention as they walked, the red dome growing in size until it became immense once they reached the smooth granite stones of the courtyard.

"I like the fountain," Bowen's mouth lifted slightly as he pointed. "The water sounds nice."

"I'll bet your brother and sister will get a kick out of it. Hey, Daeron," Bard turned to him with a surreptitious wink, "How about we send that carriage, yeah?"

The Elf' breath caught, and his hesitated only for a moment, but to his dismay, Lord Bard had noticed, and his eyes narrowed in concern.

"I think you should stay here and help me get Bowen settled." The King smiled down at the young lad. "Daeron hasn't had his dinner either, and we have to make sure he eats, don't we?"

The boy nodded.

"Send Turamarth to the Livery, then join us in the dining room. Bowen will save you a seat, won't you, lad?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Aye. Bye Daeron." The boys neck craned back to take in the high building and the tall arches on the dais as they climbed the steps and disappeared through the doors.

Ai, gorgor! Months ago he had given his word to Lord Thranduil not reveal his feelings for Rhian, and he had promised not to let it affect his duties to the Royal Family. 1

And he wasn't sure he could do it anymore.

Thranduil looked up from his place beside Sigrid, when Bard brought Bowen into the Family Room. Bain was carving a piece of wood, under Uncle Percy's tutelage, and Tilda was curled up next to Hilda, watching her knit.

"Hey, Sea Monsters!" The Bowman stood behind the boy with his hands in his shoulders. "I'd would like you to meet my new friend, Bowen." He introduced them one by one. "And last but not least, this is my husband, King Thranduil."

"Good evening My Lord," the boy bowed politely.

"I am pleased to meet you, child." Thranduil got up from his chair and came over to clasp his wrist. "We are happy to have you could stay with us."

"Thank you, My Lord."

Hilda got up. "I'll go see to your supper. Where's Daeron?"

"He'll be along in a minute. Hannah's going to stop in and help with the baby. I hope we've got some milk in the kitchen?"

"I'll check. Be right back."

Thranduil urged Bowen farther into the room, and Bain invited him to sit on the floor with him to show him the box he was carving. Percy invited the boy look at the tools Bain was using, explaining their uses. Bard was pleased to see some of the tension ease from Bowen's posture as he ran his finger lightly over the wood.

"Hello, everyone!" Hannah fifteen minutes later arrived with bright smile, and a basket full of supplies. "Daeron's out meeting the carriage, My Lord."

"I should go help," Bowen turned and made to stand, but Sigrid offered to go instead.

She returned with two sacks of clothes for the children, followed by the Maddox, riding on Daeron's hip, clinging for dear life. His cheeks were tear-stained and his light eyes were wide.

"And here is young Maddox, everyone!" Bard flashed the child a winning smile as he introduced the group.

"Lord Thranduil," Daeron patted the child's back, "I would like introduce Maddox, who is five years old He fell in the park and hurt his ankle, and now we are old friends." ankle in the park today, and that is how we met."

"I am happy to meet you," the Elvenking inclined his head. "I do hope you are feeling better?"

The child buried his face in the Elf's chest and bobbed his head up and down.

"That is wonderful news. And who is this?" Thranduil smiled at the baby girl, carried by Turamarth.

"This, My Lord, is the infant Owena." The Elf tickled at the baby under her chin. "Rhian tells me she ate a bit of corn muffin and mashed beans, and was given a fresh Gwaefwin just before we came."

"That was considerate of her," the Elvenking chuckled. "And young Maddox has eaten, as well?"

Tur shook his head.

"Then we will try and tempt him," he took the baby from the Guard and nestled her in his arm. "Miss Owena, you are as lovely as your name, hênig."

"We named her after my Da." Bowen handed the piece of wood he was holding back to Percy. "He died two weeks before she was born."

"That is a wonderful tribute," the Elvenking nodded solemnly. "Percy has been telling us what a good and brave man he was."

"You knew him, too?"

"Sure did. Owen was the best Cooper in Laketown, and," Percy winked, "the best at Draughts, too."

"You played with him?"

"Oh, aye," Percy rolled his eyes in a mock sigh. "And he mopped the floor with me every blasted time. You kids were his pride and joy, and he adored your Mam." Percy's voice grew husky. "He'd have done anything for you."

"He already did…" Bowen said, in a faint faraway voice.

The activity in the room paused, all voices stilled as all eyes turned to the boy. Bowen's clamped his mouth tight in a tight frown, as if to keep his grief from escaping.

Thranduil's heart reached out, wanting to grasp the frightened child, and say, I know your pain; I lost my father in battle, too.

But now wasn't the time.

"Bowen," he said lightly, "Your meal will be ready in a few minutes. In the meantime, would you like Lord Bard and I would to show you where you will be sleeping tonight?"

"Aye," the boy scrambled to his feet, and Bard took his hand and led the way.

"Here's the privy," he opened the small room, and showed him how to lock it from the inside. "We'll leave this door ajar, so it won't be hard to find. And this," he opened the next door, "is the bathing room. The children usually start taking their turn after supper, and the water will be nice and warm. Over there," the Bowman indicated the shelves, "are plenty of towels and wash rags. The soaps are in the bowls by the tub. The shampoo is in the green jar – it smells good – and that little red one has the pomade to use after."

Bowen's eyebrows rose as his eyes swept around. "It's bigger than ours."

"Well, it has to take care of a lot of people." Bard laughed, as they exited and opened the second-last door on the left, and showed him the double-bed. "You and your brother will stay in Bain's room tonight."

Won't he be mad?"

"Nope. Bain's going over Rhys's house, as soon as his father Alun finishes work."

"They often ," Thranduil added. "If you remember, Rhys lived with us at the Palace, so

"But what about Sister?"

Bard laughed and pointed to his husband. "As you can see, Lord Thranduil loves babies, so he's set up a crib in our bedroom, and we will look after her tonight. Come on, I'll show you."

Bard walked him to the end of the corridor and opened the double door into the Kings' Bedchamber.

"See over here? It's close to the fireplace, so your sister will be plenty warm," he winked at Thranduil. "I doubt she'll spend much time in it; something tells me this Elf here won't want to put her down. She'll be in good hands.

"That's good." The boy felt a little better. "Do you think supper's ready?"

"Let's go see. Now can you point out to me where you'll be staying, so you're sure?"

"There is Prince Bain's room, and there's the privy, and Sister will be staying at the end with you."

"Very good." Bard rubbed his hands together. "Let's eat!"

As they sat down to supper, Bard noticed the boys had a good appetite, and they all tried to make the conversation light and casual. Halfway through, Hannah arrived, carry supplies for the baby.

"You might be in for a bit of a rough night, My Lord. Her little tummy isn't used to goat's milk, so she might have a bit of gas and watch closely for a rash on her bottom." She pulled out a jar of salve. "Use this, when you're changing her, and let me know if she has problems. I can set her up with a wet-nurse if she can't tolerate it. She can also have things like thin porridge, applesauce and smashed up vegetables." Hannah reached into her pack and pulled out a tiny spoon on a long handle.

"Thank you, Mistress." Thranduil had just produced a loud burp from Owena. "We will call you, if we need you."

Bard got up and walked Hannah out. The woman had dropped her cheerful façade and stopped to look up at him. "Ellyn told me what they said, and… I just can't believe it. Why her? After losing Owen like that..." A tear escaped her. "I just can't believe it."

"Let's keep our hopes up for now," Bard patted her hand. "We're happy to take the children in tonight, but I think they'd feel better with people they know after this. Whatever happens, this family needs a lot of support."

"I think you're right."

"Do you know anything about her family? Does Owen have any relatives?"

"Her parents have passed, and she has a sister living somewhere in the South, but I don't know about Owen's side."

"The Livery Owner is a friend of the family. What can you tell me about him?"

"Daffyd? He was Owen's best friend, and his wife Anna is a dear. She's working at the Tailor's, over next to the Fabrics. They've got a grown lad who works with his Da."

"Thanks, Hannah; this is a big help." They reached the doors, and after Bard gave instructions for her to be escorted home, he went back to their quarters to see how things were going.

Tauriel had returned from her evening walk with the dogs, and they were making the boy's' acquaintance. Bowen was impressed with the big dog, but Maddox shrank away and burrowed into Sigrid's side.

"It's all right; he's very friendly." Sigrid assured him. "See? Bowen is petting him, see how he likes it?"

Thangon didn't take it personally; he patiently waited for for the boy to relax. After a few moments, Maddox tentatively reached out and touched the top of his head, and grew comfortable enough to scratch the big dog's ears.

Esta, bless her, quickly appraised the situation jumped up on the couch beside the little boy and put her head in his lap.

"I have a feeling I know where Esta is going to sleep tonight." Thranduil said, catching Bard's eye, who responded with a surreptitious wink.

"Will she stay with us?" Bowen asked. "That would be nice, wouldn't it Mad?"

The little boy put his arms around her neck and Esta dog licked the little boys face until she made him smile.

Bard stuck his head into the corridor and saw that the servants were filling up the bathtub. "Boys, let's get you in the tub and ready for bed. Tilda, you're next after them."

"Okay, Da." She said, as she kneeled on the couch beside Thranduil, and helped him burp the baby.

Since the boys felt more comfortable with Bard, he helped get their things ready, then left them to it. "If you need me, just poke your head out and yell."

"Thank you, My Lord." Bowen promised.

In the end, they managed just fine, and were soon installed in Bain's room with Esta in the middle. Sigrid read to them for a little while, while Tilda sat on the stool by the fireplace, listening in. When she was finished, the Kings came into the room to help them get settled.

"Would you like the lamp on low?" Thranduil asked, as they went in to say good night. Owena nestled comfortably against his shoulder, sleepily sucking her thumb.

"Yes, please." Bowen answered.

"We'll leave the door slightly open, so if you need anything, Esta will come and get us." Bard told them. "Good night."

After bidding the other children goodnight, the Kings made ready for bed, then settled against the headboard and fussed over their tiny guest.

"Look at how she plays with her feet!" Thranduil laughed as the baby began to suck on her toes. "Infants are fascinating creatures, are they not?"

"Are human babies that much different than Elflings?"

"In many ways, yes, and in many ways no. But tiny ones from any race are enchanting, are they not?"

"I'm not going to argue with that."

Once Thranduil was done giving baby Owena a clean diaper and gown, he wrapped her in a blanket and sat down on the bed beside Bard to sing her to sleep.

Bard kissed his cheek and leaned against him, as he wiggled Owena's foot. "I know I tease you about babies, but I think they're good for you, love."

"Bard, if I ask you something, would you promise not to laugh?" he whispered, as he watched the baby's eyes droop.

"You can ask me anything, love; you know that." Bard was leaning his head on Thranduil's shoulder, stroking the little girl's cheek.

"I sometimes wish you and I could have children together. I imagine what he or she would look like: would he have light hair like me, or eyes like yours?"

"I've never thought about it, but if we could, I'd hope the babies would look like you. If you want to know what I looked like as a child, all you have to do is look at Bain." Bard smiled. "I think our children would be beautiful. Just one question, though."

"What is that?" Thranduil kissed his hair.

"Which one of us would carry the baby and give birth?"

"Ah." Thranduil winced. "That is an excellent point, Hervenn nîn. It is good such things are the providence of the females. I doubt either of us have the courage to bring a child into this world."

"I know I don't. I can't stand the sight of blood, remember?"

Thranduil laughed. "Alas; we must wait for our grandchildren come to us."

"You'll be a wonderful grandfather, love." Bard rubbed his arm. "Just remember to be nice and let their parents have the babies once in a while, yeah?"

Owena was fast asleep by now, so Thranduil gracefully got up and put her in the crib. Once he covered her with a blanket, he crawled back in bed, so Bard could gather the Elvenking against his chest.

He smiled when his Bowman draped a leg around him, and began to breathe deeply into the back of his neck. This was the simplest of things, really, but it filled Thranduil with joy.

"Bard?"

"Mmmm," Bard said sleepily, and kissed his hair.

Thranduil turned over in his arms and gave his husband a long, deep kiss.

"What was that for?"

"To thank you. Every day you bring me blessings I never dreamed of, Meleth. It is all such a surprise."

Bard opened his eyes and smiled at him. "Ci velethron e-guil nîn, Thranduil."

The Elvenking rolled back over and drifted off to sleep, enveloped in his arms.

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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:

Gwaefwin– Diaper, nappy (lit. "Baby-wrap")

losta-luith – sleeping spell

Hervenn nîn – My husband

Meleth nîn – My love

Ci velethron e-guil nîn, Thranduil – You are the love of my life, Thranduil.

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NOTES:

1 And Winter Came, Ch. 28: /works/12026709/chapters/30705675