Chapter Nine
.
SUMMARY: After a rude awakening, Thranduil sits down to breakfast with his family and discusses their plans for the rest of the summer.
Once everyone has dispersed for the day, the Elvenking meets with our favorite Guard to discuss a matter of great importance.
.
.
"Because what's worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it?"
― James Patterson, The Angel Experiment
.
City of Dale; Morning, 20th of July 2942 T.A.
Ai, naeg!
Thranduil rolled over in bed to face his husband, and was met with a sharp kick to the face.
He opened his eyes, and saw two small, stockinged feet… legs clad in blue pajamas, and the body of a petite seven-year-old sprawled on her back, with Charlotte tucked under one arm, and the other curled up around her head. Tilda had obviously crawled in between them during the night, but how in the world had she managed to turn herself completely around? Could anyone be as squirmy as their youngest?
He rubbed his sore nose, and noticed the dull grey light shining through the window to his left; it was raining. A flash of lightning and a loud crack of thunder punctuated this observation, and the mystery of his Tithen Pen's appearance in their bed was solved. She must have heard the storms and been frightened.
Despite his painful awakening, Thranduil smiled as watched her sweet face, her long eyelashes feathering over cheeks that were rosy from fresh air and the summer sun. Tilda was a real menace in her sleep, and he found it annoying (and often painful), but he realized that, when his time with her was over, when she left this world to join her mother, this is the memory he would treasure the most. There were memories he would treasure about all of them.
Before the Battle, before Bard, he would have hidden behind stoic walls to prevent deep feelings, but now, though he knew there would be a price to pay, every time he looked at Sigrid, Bain and Tilda, he etched their faces on his heart, stored away the sounds of their laughter, to carry with him always.
He would absolutely make those books Bard asked for. He would do it for both of them.
"Morning." His husband's voice was gravelly from sleep.
"Fân fanna Anor, Meleth nîn."
"Mmmm…" Bard grumbled. "Don't make me think so much before I'm awake."
"How else are you going to learn your Sindarin?" Thranduil smiled. "We have a visitor, again."
The Bowman opened one bleary eye.
Thranduil grabbed one of Tilda's feet and held it up. "She was… busy," he chuckled.
Bard propped himself up on one elbow and rubbed his face. "I'll say." He threw off the covers, and headed into the privy.
Thranduil pulled himself up and sat against the headboard as he watched his Tithen Pen sleep for a few more minutes. "Gwennig vuin," he whispered, then he tickled the bottom of her foot. Her reflexive kick was aimed right at him, but he was quick this time, and grabbed her ankle, before he tickled her again.
"What are you doing?" Bard stood there with his hands on his hips.
"Waking her up," he grinned.
"You both are ridiculous." The Bowman looked out the window. "It's raining."
"I told you thus, earlier. Had you been practicing your Sindarin, you would have known this."
Finally, Tilda stirred and sat up. "Why am I down here?" she looked at her Ada.
"You will have to tell me, my little love." He held out his arms.
She crawled up to cuddle with him, and yawned. "There was thunder last night."
"Lightning, too, Beanie." Bard went over and looked out the window. "The rain is good for the crops." He turned and smiled down at her. "Come on; we need to be up and about, so let your Da and Ada get dressed and we'll see you at breakfast."
"Okay, Da." She sat up and kissed her Ada, then crawled over him to give her Da a hug. After he kissed her, he set her down on the floor and with a pat on her behind, sent her off.
"We should discourage her from coming into our room so much." Bard came around and sat facing him on the bed.
"Please do not, Bard," Thranduil smiled sadly. "She will outgrow all this much too soon, and I do not want to miss any of it."
"All right, love." He cupped the Elf's cheek, and kissed him. "You're hair's a mess."
"Yours is much worse."
"A typical morning, then. Come on, Elf; I'm hungry. The staff will be here soon, and I like to be the first one on the job."
"You will be, now that Alun is no longer sleeping at his desk."
"Aye." Bard affirmed. "No more of that."
.
.
Poor Alun had been working even longer hours than Bard, but it couldn't be helped. Every household in Dale, had been given a sum appropriate for the size of the family, and each Merchant in Dale was allocated a suitable amount of gold, in order to get their businesses off the ground. Almost all of them had problems with unforeseen expenses and needed to see the Treasurer to apply for more, to see them through these difficulties.
Percy had found him asleep with the ledgers one morning – he hadn't the energy to go home – and went to Bard, insisting they hire an Adjustor, to go out and inspect each claim, and come back with recommendations. They needed someone honest, diplomatic and good with figures.
After six men and women were recommended to them, they ended up hiring two. They decided
Evan, son of Niclas had come to New Dale from his small village in the East Bight, just off the southern portion of Mirkwood. When news of the Dragon's death and the rebuilt city reached them, many residents there made the trip in the spring to the new City, to swear their fealty to King Bard, and find a better living. Evan had an engaging personality, and was well-educated, and was known for his reputation for discretion and integrity. He was soon set up in Alun's office and was seen walking around Dale with pencil and paper in hand, helping smooth out the City's many wrinkles. He was tall, in his late twenties, and lived alone, so it wasn't long before Hilda began to fuss over him, making sure he had enough to eat.
Percy teased her about it, saying she "had a crush on the lad." Hilda usually responded with a sharp poke to the ribs, or smack him with a with what ever she happened to have in her hand.
.
.
When the Royal Family sat down breakfast, Bard passed the eggs to Bain and said, "We've got a lot coming up in the next month, kids. Tomorrow - weather permitting - Bain will dedicate the children's park."
"This is true. We will all go and support him." Thranduil decided. "Next week we will travel to Erebor to meet the rest of the Royal Family."
"I'm headed over there tomorrow with Galion," Hilda reported. "We shouldn't be more than two days."
"Why?" Tilda asked.
"There are many differences between the customs and cultures of our peoples, hênig." Galion answered her. "Balin will be coming here to stay and will educate you, as we educate them."
"But why?"
"We do not want any silly misunderstandings, Tithen Pen. If we learn as much as we can beforehand, it will help us know how to be polite." Thranduil told her.
"Oh. Like what?"
"Well, Balin will come and tell us how to say a proper greeting to the King and Queen and their family. We will also meet their children and grandchildren, so will learn how to play with them."
"That's silly!" Tilda was incredulous. "Everyone knows how to play, Ada!"
"Not everyone plays the same way." Galion warned. "For instance, Dwarven children are very physical and like to be rough and tumble, but we do not want them to injure you accidentally. So, Hilda will go there and explain things, so they will be careful."
"So, if you tell them I can't run, they won't think I'm being snobby?"
"Precisely. We've been to Erebor before, but this time, there will a formal ceremony in the Court of King Dáin and Queen Dilna, so we must learn how to do things properly to show our respect."
"What if they come here?" Bain said, with his mouth full of eggs.
"Please do not speak with food in your mouth, Ion nîn," Thranduil reminded him. "Whenever a King holds a Formal Court, it is incumbent upon the visitors to show respect by learning and following their customs, as much as possible."
"I think it will be fun," Sigrid observed, "I like learning new things."
"Me too." Rhys had joined them for breakfast, as he did most mornings. "May I please join you, Lord Bard? It sounds interesting."
"Speak for yourself." Bain griped, but he made sure to swallow his food, first. "Sounds too much like school."
"Maybe it does," Hilda gave him a severe look, "but when Master Balin is here, you will pay attention, is that clear?"
"Yes, Auntie Hil."
Bard looked around the table. "That goes for all of you. Outside of these quarters, we don't follow examples – we set them, isn't that right?"
"Yes, Da." All the children nodded.
To Rhys, he answered, "You can join us, and I just know," he gave Bain a pointed look, "Crown Prince Bain will learn all this, won't he?"
Rhys grinned and jabbed Bain with his elbow. "Thank you, My Lord. I'll make sure he pays attention."
"This is one of the many pressures of being Royalty, children." Thranduil gave them all an encouraging smile. "We have spoken about it several times, and it can be difficult, I know. But I know you love your country, and your Da and would never want to cause him problems." As he was spreading cheese his toast, he changed the subject, "Three weeks after our visit to Erebor, we will journey to the Woodland Realm for the wedding."
"Yay!" Tilda clapped her hands.
When Tilda became terribly ill last February, Meriel was her caretaker, and they had become exceptionally close. Last month, when Tilda received a letter asking if she would be in her wedding to Dior, a Captain in Thranduil's Guard, she shrieked so loud, everyone ran into her room, thinking she had hurt herself.
"What does a Flower Girl do, Ada?"
"I am not sure. This is a custom of Man, so your Auntie Hil might know."
The little girl turned to Hilda, who told her. "You will carry a basket of flower petals and toss them on the floor in front of the bride as she walks down the aisle, lovey."
"Will Sigrid wear her tiara?"
"Probably."
"But I don't have a tiara!" Tilda gave a melodramatic moan. "Can't I get one? It would be sooooo pretty!"
"Hênig, you cannot have one yet; your head is still growing." Galion reminded her. "And you know very well, the tradition is your sixteenth birthday, just like your sister."
Tilda was no dummy; she turned to the one person who could refuse her nothing. "Ada?" she simpered, "Couldn't I get one? Just this once?"
Before Thranduil had a chance to react, Da shut these shenanigans down. "Tilda! Don't put your Ada on the spot like that." Bard admonished her. "You will wait, and that's that. Now, apologize."
She looked down at her plate. "Sorry, Ada."
"Apology accepted, hênig."
"Even if you had a tiara," Hilda told her, "you couldn't wear it anyway."
"Why not?"
"Flower Girls always wear a crown of flowers."
"Oh…" Tilda considered this for a minute, then brightened. "Really?"
"How long will we be at the Palace?" Sigrid asked.
"I have planned for five days. I want the opportunity to take you into the forest, and your Auntie Hil will want to see the King's Gardens in full bloom. There are some places I want to show your father, too."
"About that," Hilda said as she poured another cup. "Think I'm going to stay, and spend some time with Uncle Percy."
"Are you going, Uncle Percy?" asked Bain.
"Sorry, kid. Someone's got to mind the store here. I'll be ruling for your Da, and Tauriel has to help me make sure everyone minds their P's and Q's. Your Auntie Hil and I plan to enjoy the peace and quiet."
"What about you, Uncle Galion?" Tilda wanted to know.
"I am staying and ruling on your Ada's behalf. Commander Feren has to go, because he will be part of the wedding, as Dior's friend."
"Are you in the wedding, Ada?"
"I am presiding over the ceremony."
"What does that mean?"
"It means Ada gets to tell them what words to say," Sigrid answered, "and if they say them right, he tells them they are married."
"Actually," Galion said, "they will be married when -"
"A-hem!" Bard gave the Aide a severe look.
Thranduil sat up straighter and tried to hide his smile. "The ceremony and blessing before friends and family is very important. They must invoke the name of Eru Iluvitar just like Mithrandir did when your Da and I got married."
"But what if they don't say the words right?" Then Tilda's eyes brightened. "They'd have to do it over, I could be Flower Girl again!"
"It's not a test!" Sigrid laughed. Of course, he's going to tell them they're married!"
"But they might not." She said hopefully. Then her eyes widened. "I don't know how I'm supposed to walk!"
"Don't worry, Beanie." Hilda told her. "We'll get you a little basket, and let you practice marching for the big day."
"When we get back, school will start soon after," Thranduil reminded everyone.
"Speaking of school," Hilda said. "Bronwyn has a date for the first day: August 30th."
Not surprisingly, moans of displeasure came from Bain and Rhys, and neither of the Kings could blame them, really.
The boys had spent a glorious summer riding, sparring or trekking with their Elven Guards through the nearby woods learning about the forest (which neither of them grew up in) and how to track and hunt. Tauriel and Turamarth were their main instructors, but occasionally Daeron would rotate his schedule and come too.
The girls were thrilled at the idea of school starting again. Sigrid, of course, loved her studies; she'd had little formal schooling in Laketown – only what her Mam, then Auntie Hil gave them at their kitchen table. When they spent the winter at the Palace, she relished the organized atmosphere, the teachers, and best of all, the books! Her favorite room in Thranduil's palace was the King's library.
Tilda liked her classes too, and was still practicing her exercises to help her fingers coordinate again. Her penmanship was almost back to where it was before she contracted Brain Fever last February. Meriel had worked with her diligently, but now that they were back in Dale, Da was working all the time, and so was Hilda and Percy, it was her Ada who made sure she did her exercises.
.
"Where are our Sea Monsters headed today?" Percy asked. "It's raining, so no rides or playing in the practice yards, but don't complain. We need the rain, if we'll get good crops."
Tauriel spoke up. "We will be staying here. The room Ada and Bard use to spar in will make a nice place for the children to do some practice with their self-defense."
"Rhian's coming, right?" Sigrid asked. "She likes that stuff, and I could watch the baby while she works."
"I will send someone over after breakfast, and she can come with Ben." Thranduil offered. "I have an important meeting this morning, and paperwork to go over with Galion, but I can join you after lunch for a couple of hours. Then you father and I will go over to the Healing House to visit Mistress Ellyn." He looked at Tilda. "You will stay with your sisters today, Tithen Pen."
"I can help watch the baby!"
"Yes, you can. And when I am done with my meeting, Daeron and I will help you with your exercises."
"I think we've only sparred twice since the children came home." Bard complained. "I'm getting soft!"
"I know you have a great deal to do, but we must make time for that, Meleth nîn." Thranduil answered.
"Not now. I've got to get ahead for all these trips." The King of Dale wiped his face and hands and said goodbye. "Loads of work waiting for me. Come on, Pers."
"Right behind you." Percy got up and kissed the kids, and blew a raspberry into Tilda's cheek. "See you later."
.
After they left, the rest of the family got up and went their separate ways. Thranduil headed to his study, but not before sticking his head into his husband's office. He and Percy were already hunched over their work, and Thangon was lying at his feet, taking his morning nap.
"Did you want to attend this meeting with me?"
"I'm buried here," Bard waved at the stack of papers in front of him. I think it would be better if it were just you and Daeron, anyway. Let me know how it goes, but later."
"Galion," Thranduil asked the Aide, who was sitting behind his desk. "I will meet with Daeron in my chambers. Please have a tray sent there with tea and perhaps some fruit. Where is that letter Mithrandir gave us last May?"
"The one from Lothlórien?" The Elf rose and opened the credenza on the side of the room, and got out one of the narrow boxes and opened it. "Here, My Lord."
"Thank you. Please send Daeron back when he arrives."
"Of course."
Thranduil went and settled himself in one of the chairs in their bedchamber and organized his thoughts. Of all the members of his Guard, or his entire military, this Lieutenant was a particular favorite, as was his cousin, Turamarth.
To Thranduil's knowledge, no other Elf could do what Daeron does. It wasn't just unborn Elflings who responded and connected to the young Lieutenant, but babes of any race - this was astounding! Years earlier, the Elvenking had written to Elrond, who confirmed the exceptional nature of the Silvan Elf's gift.
But gifts such as those sometimes required special handling , and Thranduil was worried about his Guardian.
.
A knock was heard at the door.
"Neledho!"
Daeron stuck his head in. "You wished to see me, My Lord?"
"I did. Please; have a seat." Thranduil gestured to the empty chair. I am sorry about having our meeting in my bedchamber, but I wanted to speak with you privately, and we are rather crowded here. Needs must, you understand."
"I do." The Lieutenant nervously sat. "I must ask; have I done something to displease you, My Lord?"
"Not at all," Thranduil waved his hand. "Your work and dedication have been exemplary as always. And please; no titles here, just call me Thranduil. In this room, I am a nothing but a husband, a father and a friend. And you are a friend to me, Mellon. Thanks to you, that our daughter can walk and talk and be as well as she is. To say I am in your debt is inadequate; I owe you the life I have now, for I cannot fathom what life would have been like, had she left us. She brings me such happiness."
Daeron smiled. "There is no debt; Princess Tilda has stolen everyone's heart."
"The older ones are off chasing their own possibilities, and I do love them, but our little one's biggest need at the moment is to be cherished, and I find healing in giving that to her." Thranduil smiled. "Speaking of Tilda, if you could examine her today at some point, we would be grateful. She spent yesterday afternoon with me, and she seemed unusually tired."
"Did she exert herself?"
"Not that I could see. I carried her through the City, so she did not walk or run. She was up on the scaffolding with me, and merely sat and waved to passersby."
"Was she in the sun?"
Thranduil shook his head. "We spent most of the afternoon in the shade. The weather was warm, and she ate a good supper at the tavern, but she fell asleep when I carried her home, and she barely stayed awake during her bath."
"I will check her thoroughly, but I doubt anything is amiss."
"Thank you."
Another knock was heard, and a kitchen servant entered with the tea and light snacks. As Thranduil poured out and handed him his cup, he opened the discussion. "Daeron, I am not meeting you in your capacity as an Officer in my Guard, nor as a Healer; I am asking to see you as a friend. I have watched you and your cousin grow up to be as close as your mothers. It is not a joke when people say they have trouble telling you two apart." He smiled. "I have enjoyed watching your gifts develop, and I am glad you have Turamarth."
"We have each other. No one could ask for a better friend; in all ways, he is my brother."
"I count myself fortunate to have such a friendship with Commander Feren." Thranduil smiled and crossed his legs. "We have much in common, you and I, Daeron. We both have lost our bond-mates, and we both were alarmed when love found us again."
Daeron was surprised to hear this. "You were frightened?"
"Of course. These things did not happen more than once in an Elf's lifetime! Then Mithrandir came and told us of our reward for killing the fell creatures of Morgoth. 1 Ours was an exceptional situation, and I am grateful, but since then, I have also been praying fervently for the Valar to recognize the same courage in so many of my people."
"But you and Lord Bard killed Dragons!"
"I see this courage everywhere in my Kingdom, and while I thank Eru and the Valar every day for my second chance with Bard, but it pains me that so many, who are equally deserving, are overlooked."
Thranduil sat back and crossed his legs. "It seems I have been given an answer. Mithrandir came to see us in May with much news, and told us the full meaning of Eärendil's Blessing. How much have you heard of this?"
"Eru Ilúvatar has changed the nature of some Elven bonds."
"Yes. What is not common knowledge, Daeron, is that my former wife, Mírelen was the one who asked the Valar to petition Eru. She had asked that our bond be sundered before we even came to Dale."
The Elf was shocked. "But I had always remembered you so happy together!"
"Oh, we were; have no doubt about that. Honestly, if she had lived, I would be happy with her today, just as Bard knows he could have lived the rest of his life in bliss, with his late wife. You must also understand that I love Bard every bit as much as I did my wife, and vice-versa. Neither of us stopped loving them, in order to love each other."
Daeron was silent and thoughtful, as he reached for his teacup.
"I would also add, is that you do not have to feel like you need to stop loving… What was the name of the child in Old Dale?"
"Sellwen."
"'Daughter of Joy.' That is beautiful. I am sure you see how you can still have love for Sellwen, alongside your affection for Rhian. Does one compete with the other, in your heart? I know you no longer feel the pain of Rista-Goeol, but how do you feel about your memories, now?"
"She is part of me, and I treasure it. I have been thinking about Sellwen a great deal, and wondered at first, if I was betraying her memory. I know it might seem silly –"
"Your love was real, was it not? Had she been born, her physical mind would not have recognized you for a long time, but her fëa knew, and that was real." Thranduil gave him a sad smile. "I said the same thing to Tauriel, as she wept over the body of her fallen Prince." Thranduil sighed. "That day, she forced me to understand some things I did not want to see, yet I am the better for it. I am saddened that Kili was taken from her, but her heart will heal, just as yours did."
"But it is harder when an Elf has actually joined with his or her bond-mate."
"It is." Thranduil nodded gravely. "Queen Mírelen convinced the Valar to reconsider such matters. To fade from grief, to sail, or, in my case, remain, but as a hollow shell, is cruel, especially when Elves are here to protect the land and join the fight against Sauron. She knew I never wanted to sail until my children and my people were safe at last, and my forest was free from sickness. She demanded to know why I, or any other Elf should suffer such afflictions for wanting to serve Eru and the Valar in this way? I am grateful she wanted our fëas to be sundered."
"You are?"
"Oh, yes. Even if I remained alone, even if had not fallen in love with Bard, to simply be free and have the potential for joy once more..." He smiled. "It would have been more than enough. Shortly after we were married, I told Bard, 'In losing her, I have gained her,' and it is true. I can now recall Mírelen, and speak of her with genuine fondness and pleasure," Thranduil leaned forward, "Much like you can with your Sellwen."
The Guard nodded his agreement. "I am better for having known her. I know that, now."
"Still, Daeron, I am worried about you."
The Elf felt flustered. "I am sorry to cause you any distress. I never wanted to -"
"Back in March, you came to me at the Palace and spoke about your growing affection for Rhian, daughter of Ben. 2 At that time, you were not yet sure of the depth of your feelings, or perhaps you were not ready to admit them to yourself. Tell me; have your feelings changed?"
Daeron sat still for a long time, staring down at his tea, and Thranduil could see his jaw clench and his fingers tense up. Finally, he blew out his breath, and spoke. "I am in love with her, and I grow more so with each passing day. I think about her constantly, needing to be near her, but when I am, it is agony, because –" He stopped and swallowed.
Thranduil stood up and took the Elf's teacup and set it down on the table. Then he went over to the tray on a side dresser and poured Daeron a large cup of his strongest wine and gave it to him.
"This will be more beneficial than tea, Mellon nîn. Finish it all, and we will continue this conversation."
Daeron drank it down and set the cup on the table. "I do not know what to do. She sees me only as a friend; a brother-figure, if you will. She is easy and relaxed with me, and her openness only endears me more to her. I am happy she feels no pressure from me, I really am, but," his voice cracked, "I cannot do this anymore."
Once the Guard finally admitted he was at his breaking point, a flood of emotion washed over him, and he put his head in his hand, to hide his tears.
The Elvenking stood once again and put his hand on his shoulder to offer what comfort he could. "Do not despair. To my knowledge she has no feelings for anyone. She is busy in caring for her child, her new home, her new father, and immersed in her schoolwork. There is nothing to say she will not grow to love you, at some point."
"But what if she finds out I'm in love with her and she -" Daeron clenched his fists in frustration. "I am trying so hard not to give myself away and now I find myself avoiding her, because… I give excuse and say I am very busy, which is not a lie, but I cannot be around her like this! She will know, even if I say or do nothing! She is not ready!"
Thranduil poured him another drink. "One more, and then I will make you switch to tea."
After he drank it, Daeron went on. "I do not care that she is human, and I am Elf. If I had the chance, I would give up everything to be with her!" He looked at Thranduil with tears on his face, "But… if she married me out of obligation for all I've done for her, or guilt, because she does not return my feelings, and does not want to hurt me... I could not do that to her, or myself."
Thranduil put his hand on the Guard's shoulder and squeezed it, then sat down opposite him again.
"Daeron, what you would, or would not give up, should you marry Rhian, is not relevant right now. Should that opportunity present itself, we will speak again. The immediate, pressing problem is this: Rhian needs time, and you need distance."
"Yes." Daeron sighed.
Thranduil leaned forward and smiled at the Guard. "Mellon nîn, I have the solution for you both."
.
.
ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Ai, naeg! – Oh, ouch!
Fân fanna Anor, Meleth nîn - It is overcast, My Love.
Gwennig vuin – My beloved little maid
Neledho – Enter (command)
Rista-Goeol – "Terrible Severing" The pain from losing a bond-mate. If this happens after they are married, and their fëas become one, it can be a dangerous thing; the spouse will often need to sail, to keep from fading, or, if they stay, he or she will feel the hollow place forever.
NOTES:
1 What Makes a King, Ch. 13: /works/10838010/chapters/25232985
2 And Winter Came…, Ch. 28: /works/12026709/chapters/30705675