17
Chapter Sixteen
SUMMARY: Bowen is introduced to a new friend, which meets with approval from the Potter and his wife.
Bard and Percy solve a mystery, for which a certain Elvenking is richly rewarded.
Old Ben finally gets off work in time for dinner with his daughter and grandson, and unwittingly drops a bomb…
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Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!"
-Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
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City of Dale, 12thof August, 2942 T.A.
Turamarth answered the knock on the door of his apartment to find Ivran, Bain and Rhys, standing there with huge grins on their faces.
"Hi, Tur! Where's Bowen?" Bain asked excitedly. "Is he here?"
"He is, Lord Bain. Please, come in." The Elf stepped aside so they could enter, and called out, "Bowen! You have visitors."
The boy came out from the spare room. "Hi," he said, quietly.
"Adasays you're to come right away; he's got something for you."
Bowen looked up at Turamarth curiously. "Do you know what it is?"
"I do, but I wanted it to be a surprise. Get your shoes on and we will see."
The day in Dale was cloudy and warm, but rain wasn't imminent, so they enjoyed the walk, and Turamarth was encouraged to see how Bain and Rhys were keeping Bowen engaged in conversation.
Ivran came beside him and asked. "How did Bowen sleep last night?"
"Fitfully, I think. His stomach is better, but that is only because Daeron keeps a close eye on the ulcer he found. He is eating more, but only when we urge him to."
"How was his visit with Maddox and Owena yesterday?"
"It went fine, but he got tense when the babe started to cry, and when Mistress Anna took her to the other room to put her down for a nap, Bowen seemed angry and resentful." Turamarth turned to look at Ivran. "Have you noticed this behavior?"
"I have. I do not think the boy is conscious of it; he is probably having difficulty adjusting to someone else looking after them. He does well with Maddox, of course, and the child is thrilled to see him, but gets upset when Bowen leaves with us. We need to keep in mind that the younger brother is dealing with the loss of both his mother and his brother, although that is temporary.
Sighing, Turamarth said. "I have thought about that, but I do not think it can be helped. We need to put our energies into helping Bowen, so that we can get them back together."
They reached the Courtyard, and went up the steps to the big doors of the Great Hall, just as Lord Thranduil came out to meet them.
"Good morning, Bowen," the Elvenking smiled. "How are you today?"
"Fine, My Lord," the boy bowed politely, but barely met his eyes.
"I am sure you have been told I have something for you," Thranduil smiled at his son and friend. "If you would please come with me to the barns, I will show you."
"Is it a horse?" Bowen asked.
"No, but you are welcome to ride with Bain and Rhys anytime you like. Come along, hênig. You will see, soon enough."
Upon entering the barns, Bain's and Rhys' excitement grew, and it rubbed off on Bowen, if the small smile on his face was any indication. The Elvenking led them to the door of one of the box stalls and stopped to speak:
"First of all, I would like to return something to you, Bowen." He handed the boy one of his shirts. "Mistress Anna loaned me this from your things, and it was sent to the Woodland Realm to be used for training purposes."
"I don't understand."
"Lord Bard and I have noticed Thangon's companionship has been beneficial, so we have arranged, with your mother's permission, and Anna and Daffyd's cooperation, of course, to give you this." He stepped aside and indicated to Bowen. "Go ahead, child. Meet your new friend."
Bowen grabbed the handle and slid the door open. A large dog, of the same breed as Thangon lifted its head to look at him, curiously. This one was slightly smaller, and had a dark, brindled coat, as opposed to Thangon's solid fawn.
"This is Beriel, and she is three years old. I have it on good authority from her breeder, that she has a friendly and calm temperament, and I have purchased her for you."
"She's… you mean she's mine?"
"She is all yours. In fact, she has been anxious to meet you."
"How do you know that?"
"Beriel learned your scent from the shirt, so she knows you are her master." He grinned down at the boy. "Go on. See for yourself."
Bowen entered the box rather timidly, and Beriel stayed very still, and patiently waited for Bowen to approach. Her ears perked up, and her nose twitched, as she recognized the smell of him, and her tail began to thump on the straw bed underneath her.
"Now, show her the back of your hand, and let her sniff it for a few minutes."
Bowen slowly lifted his hand and extended it, fingers under. Beriel whined with excitement and her tail wagged faster, as she licked his hand.
"She knows me!" Bowen began to stroke her head, then the big dog got up from the ground and began to lick his face in earnest, making him laugh.
Turamarth and Ivran smiled; this was the first laugh they'd heard from the boy.
"Isn't she great?" Rhys asked.
"Aye," Bowen said, quietly. "She really is. And she's all mine…" A thought occurred to the boy. "Does she have to stay here, or can I take her home?"
"She will come with us, Bowen, and when you are ready to join your family, she will go with you." Turamarth told him. "It is all arranged."
"She will?" His face lit up.
"She is yours to keep." Thranduil smiled. "One of the things we will need to do, is to teach you how to speak to her."
"What do you mean?"
"She has been well-trained in the manner of all dogs in the Woodland Realm, in Elven language of Quenya."
"I didn't know Elves had more than one language. Is it hard?"
"You will learn it very quickly." Thranduil said, and produced a leather leash. "Now, snap this onto her collar, and say, 'Beriel, Ambë!'"
Bowen repeated the phrase, and the dog immediately jumped to her feet. She kept her eyes trained on him, waiting to be told what to do next.
"Look at that! Did that mean 'get up?'"
"It did. Now say, her first name, and the word 'lelyë,' and she will come with us."
"Beriel, lelyë!"
The big dog followed obediently on the boy's left side as the troupe made their way back to the Castle, where Thranduil had to return to his duties, then continued toward the Market Square, to Turamarth's apartment.
He and Ivran were encouraged to see Bowen become more animated as he walked with Rhys and Bain, as they made plans to get together with Thangon for all kinds of activities. Beriel seemed just as enamored with her new owner, and looked up at Bowen with her dark brown eyes.
"The commands are hard at first," Bain was telling him. "But you'll get the hang of it. I had to write them down on a piece of paper and keep them in my pocket at first. Maybe you should do that, too."
"Could Bain and Rhys, come over, Tur?"
"Certainly," the Elf answered.
Bowen's face became earnest, "Could you see if Ermon would allow me to show Beriel to my Mam? I think she would like her."
The Guard smiled. "I think it would do your mother a great deal of good to see a smile on your face, again."
Bowen stroked the dog's head in wonder. He still couldn't bring himself to look up at night at the stars, let alone speak to them. He was too hurt, too disappointed, and he didn't know if he ever could, but his new friend might give him something warm and tangible to hold on to. Beriel could maybe calm the frenzy of dark thoughts that continued to swirl around him.
"Tom, come and see this!"
The Potter's wife called to him from the front of the store.
"What is it, Maggie?" The man came out, wiping his hands on his apron.
"Will you look at that!"
They both looked through the big window and watched the Elf King and the Guards lead the three boys and a big brindled dog.
"I don't think that's Lord Bard's dog…. This one's darker."
"That's young Bowen, isn't it?" Tom asked. "Where did they get that beast?"
"Bet you a gold coin King Thranduil got it for lad." She sighed with concern. "Bowen's so thin… Maybe the dog will do him good. He's not taking his Mam's illness well at all."
"Who would? I still can't believe Owen's gone, and now Ellyn, too…" Tom shook his head, sadly. "It's criminal, that's what it is."
"I'll take some food over to Anna and Daffyd, tomorrow, and as long as I'm at it, I'll drop some off at Daeron and Turamarth's too."
"That'd be grand." Tom smiled at her. "We'll both go, then we'll stop in to see Ellyn for a little while, yeah?"
"Tom? I think we should give Anna and Daffyd a discount, to help with the kids, if that's agreeable."
Tom put his arm around his wife and kissed her temple. "Maggie, you give those folks anything they need at no charge. It was always the Laketown way to look after our own; now it's the 'Dale Way.'"
"You're a good man." She laid her head on his shoulder.
"Only because I have a good wife. Maybe I don't tell you often enough, but never doubt it, love."
Maggie chuckled to herself, as they watched the Elf King and his group continue through the Market Square.
"What's so funny, love?"
"I heard somebody say Lord Thranduil used to be a real cold fish. They say he kept to himself, and even pushed his son and Tauriel away." The woman shook her head.
"It's just a silly rumor; you know how folks love to make stuff up. Anyone with eyes could that can't be true." Tom kissed her again and went in the back to work.
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City of Dale, 16thof August, 2942 T.A.
Bard was reading the paper in his hand, as he left his study, so he didn't notice at it at first.
"Pers?" He called, when he looked down. "Do you know anything about this?"
"Know about what?" Percy got up and came around his desk to peek out the doorway. "Uh… nope."
The floor of the corridor was littered with small pieces of paper. It started at the double-doors of Bard's and Thranduil's bedchamber, and left a trail out to the main hall.
"Where do you suppose they came from?" Bard mused.
"No idea. Only one way to find out."
The King and his Steward followed the trail, like breadcrumbs, which led out to the Great Hall-
Ah.
Tilda and Thranduil were facing away from them, with the little "practice basket" Hilda hand found for her. On her head was a crown of daisies, obviously made by childish hands. Esta sat over to the side watching them, with a smaller daisy-chain hanging cock-eyed over one ear.
Their little girl seemed upset, so Bard and Percy quietly watched the scene unfold from the doorway, so as not to disturb them:
"I'm not doing it right, Ada!" Tilda's voice was filled with frustration. "I can't do it!"
"That is because you are still going too fast, Tithen Pen. You must slow down. Try not to stomp, but glide gracefully, like so," Thranduil demonstrated a smooth walk. "Do you see?"
"I can't; your robe hides your feet."
"Oh, I am sorry." Thranduil took off his outer robe to reveal his tunic and leggings. "Now, walk and toss your 'flower petals' at the same time, like this." He made the motions gracefully. Can you do that?"
"Okay…" she tried to 'glide' like Thranduil instructed, but she couldn't seem to throw the bits of paper without stopping.
"I keep doing it!" she sighed dramatically. "I can't remember everything!"
"Yes, you will, my little love. Now, let us go again." The Elvenking began to hum what must be a traditional Elven Wedding song, and the two of them walked together...
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Tilda was clearly trying her best, but she was having a difficult time coordinating herself. She would step once, then toss a handful, or four times and toss another, in an uneven pattern. It was apparent she couldn't do both at once. The more she tried the more upset she became until she stomped her feet with frustration.
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"See? I told you! I get it all mixed up, and I miss a step and forget!" Her eyes filled with tears. "It's too hard, Ada! They're supposed to look all pretty and even on the floor, like Auntie Hil says, but they get all clumpy! Look! It's ugly!" Her cries began in earnest, now. "I can't do it, and everybody will think I'm s-stupid!"
The Elvenking knelt to hold and comfort her, as her little body was wracked with sobs. At one point, she winded herself, like she sometimes did when she got really upset, so Thranduil held her face, and blew into it a couple times. As she inhaled, her cries were even louder.
"Please try to calm yourself, my Tithen Pen. No one thinks you are stupid."
"But they will!"
"They will think no such thing, Tilda. I promise."
"But it's hard to r-remember things sometimes, and my foot doesn't always work right sometimes, and," she sniffled, "everybody will be l-looking at me, Ada!" She wailed, and could hardly get the words out. "I'll f-forget something, or I'll t-trip and f-f-fall! What if I f-fall in front of everybody? They'll s-s-see, and…and everyb-body willf-feel s-sorry for me!" And she collapsed in tears again.
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Oh, stars…. Bard's heart clenched in his chest and his throat tightened.
It was easy to forget Tilda's problems were more than just tiring easily. Though they were greatly lessened, she still had mood swings and occasional memory problems, but Bard was so used to looking past her disabilities, he forgot they were even there. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but he hadn't given a thought how it this would affect her self-confidence, especially with those outside their tight family unit.
At only seven years old, and Tilda was embarrassed, and ashamed.
Bard made a move to go comfort his Little Bean, but Percy grabbed his arm.
"No, lad." The Steward whispered. "If we all keep rushing in to save her, she'll only feel weaker. Just hang back, let Thranduil handle it, and see what happens, yeah?" Percy squeezed his arm and together they continued to watch, in silence.
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"Shh… Please do not cry, Tithen Pen." Thranduil held her and rubbed her back.
"But I can't do it the way you said! If I do the flowers, I can't tell my feet what to do, and I k-keep stopping!"
"You have been doing well, and your feet have been listening, have they not?"
"But they d-don't always, and my l-leg gets t-tired and achy..."
He pulled back. "Does it hurt you? Why did you not tell me this, Tilda?"
"It just… gets achy when I'm in bed, s-sometimes," She hiccuped. "When we were at the Dwarf's house, it got r-really tired, but I only remembered at n-night."
"I see... You and Princess Alda did a lot of things together, is that not right?"
"Uh huh."
"You also went swimming and you rode Blossom…"
"Uh huh." Tilda wiped her eye, and she was calming down, but her chin still quivered a bit, and she continued to speak in run-on sentences as children often did. "I d-didn't want to tell, because I was h-having a good time, and if I told you and Da, I'd have to s-stop, and I wanted to play!"
"Of course, you wanted to play. You want to be like every other little girl, am I right?"
Tearfully, Tilda nodded her head and began to cry again. Esta whined, and nudged her hip to offer some support.
Thranduil looked at her with concern. "Tilda, if you wish, I could tell Meriel you –"
"No!" she cried, and her voice wavered again. "I really really want to, but I don't want to look stupid, or fall…. Please, help me?"
"How about this?" Thranduil wiped her tears with his handkerchief. "We will ask Meriel if Esta could walk beside you down the aisle, to make sure you do not stumble. I will send her a message today, with a Raven."
"Would she let me?"
"I am sure, she would. Do not forget that I will be there too, so if you become nervous, remember to look at me, and I will help. Now," he stood up again and lined up beside her. "let us try different approach: If you cannot throw your flower petals without stopping, we will make that a part of your walk."
"What do you mean?"
"Repeat after me: 'Step, step, toss. Step, step, toss.' You try it."
Tilda repeated it a few times.
"That is correct. Do not worry about the music, or the way you walk or even the number of petals you use." The Elvenking said. "We will take two steps, like so…" he demonstrated, and stopped to toss imaginary petals.
"So, it wouldn't be bad if I stop?"
"No, because it will be on purpose, like dance steps. Everyone likes to see dancing do they not?"
"I like it when Elves do those turns and things."
"It will be just like that, and you will be very pretty and graceful."
"Really?"
"Yes," he smiled down at her. We will do it together... Annnnd… step, step, toss…. See how easy it is? Step, step, toss… Yes, that is it!"
"Step, step toss…. I'm doing it, Ada! Look!"
"Yes, you are, hênig." Thranduil smiled down at her. "I knew you could find a way. Keep going… yes… Step, step, toss… say it with me…"
They made it all the way to the dais at the entrance of the Great Hall, turned around and walked back, keeping up the rhythm the entire way. Esta remained at the little girl's left side, with the flower wreath on her head, and her tail wagging.
"Very good! We will do more tomorrow, and practice every day, yes?" He looked around on the floor. "Where did you get these bits of paper, Tithen Pen?"
"Ruvyn got me some, and helped me tear it up so I didn't have to pretend," she told him. " I thought it would help."
"I see. It was a good idea, but I think we should get this swept up, before Auntie Hil returns from her errands. Ruvyn and I will help you, then I will rub your leg and your foot. And then," he booped her nose, "you must take a nap, all right?"
"Okay." Tilda smiled and nodded, then became serious. "Ada?"
"What is it?"
"You won't tell anybody, will you?"
"Not if you do not wish it, but why would you not want them to know?"
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The eavesdroppers behind the doorway looked at each other a bit sheepishly, but neither one moved.
"Everybody got upset, when I was sick."
"That was because we love you," Thranduil stroked her cheek. "We did not want to lose you."
"But they treat me normal now, and if they knew, they'd get all sad again…"
"That is not your fault, Tilda."
"But I made Da and everybody cry. I felt bad."
"You did not make anybody do anything. It is what families do. Let me ask you this: You worried when Da hurt his leg, yes?"
"Uh huh. You got sick, too. I worried alot."
"You were sad, and you cried?"
"A really lot."
"So, you understand." Thranduil answered, with a shrug. "That is what happens people love each other, Tilda. We get upset when they are hurt, or ill. Nothing can change that,TithenPen.
"Now, I will promise not to say anything, ifyoupromise toalways tell someonewhen your leg or your foot gets tired, or anything hurts." He lifted her chin, and looked into her eyes. "You are still recovering,Tilda, and I know you are frustrated, but youmustdo this. Do you promise?"
"Okay, Ada." She reached up. "I love you."
"I love you too, hênig." He stooped down, and her tiny frame disappeared when he gathered her into his long arms, as he kissed the top of her head. "Go find Ruvyn, and bring a broom and dustpan…"
Bard and Percy looked at each other and tiptoed quietly back to their office. Neither ever spoke about it.
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When they were at supper that night, Bard noticed the daisies in Tilda's hair were a little droopy, but she still looked cute.
"The flowers look nice, Beanie."
"Thanks, Da. I made it myself."
"You did?"
"I have to practice wearing it, so it doesn't fall off."
"That's important. You're going to be a great Flower Girl, love."
Bard and Percy noticed the looks between Tilda and her Ada, but they smiled and said nothing.
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It had become part of Thranduil's regular evening routine to take the dogs out for their evening walk with Tauriel. Bard encouraged him to keep it up, as it gave him a chance for some one-on-one time with his eldest daughter.
They both looked forward to it, and would sometimes walk for an hour or more, as they unwound from their busy day. Tauriel was opening up to him like never before, and he was thrilled. His Gwinïg was a bright young Elf, and he genuinely respected her ideas and opinions about many things, large and small. He delighted in her intelligence and even her wicked sense of humor.
This evening, after the dogs got their exercise, Thranduil dropped them off with the children and said goodnight.
He quietly entered his own chambers…
…and was immediately swept off his feet.
"What are you doing?" he laughed, as he wrapped his arms around Bard's neck.
"What does it look like? I'm carrying you. Be quiet and let me."
His Bowman took him over toward the bed, but walked around it the windows, where there was a pile of pillows and blankets on the floor.
"What is this?"
"It's a clear night, and I want to make love to you under the stars." Bard laid him down on the cushions and looked deep into his eyes. "I want to show you how glad I am that a certain snooty-faced Elvenking decided he wanted me, as much as I wanted him."
He lowered his head and brushed his lips back and forth against Thranduil's so softly it tickled. "Do you remember our first kiss, love?" Bard asked, as he caressed his cheek and looked deep into his eyes.
"How could I forget it?" he whispered. "You turned to me so slowly, and put your hand on my face, like you are now…"
"And you put your hand on my chest and to feel my heart pounding…"
"Mine was pounding, too, Meleth nîn. I could hardly believe you were looking at me like that…."
"I didn't know what you would do," Bard confessed. "All I knew in that moment was that I needed, more than anything in the world, to kiss you. I had to know what your lips tasted like, or I'd ache with regret for the rest of my life."
"I couldn't stop looking into your eyes." The Elf told him. "They are so warm and welcoming, and always makes me think of my forest, when it was alive and green and beautiful…. Your eyes make me feel safe."
"And yours are pools of clear water, like the Long Lake on a smooth, summer day. I wanted to dive into them, and never come up for air. I still want to drown in them, Thranduil." Bard ran his thumb over Thranduil's lips. "You are so beautiful… I said that to you."
"I remember. And I said you were beautiful, as well."
Bard's mouth hovered over his, as they whispered, but now the Bowman lowered his head, and enveloped Thranduil's mouth in a soft, deep kiss. The Elvenking sighed, lifted his hand and brushed Bard's cheek with the back of his hand, as his mouth opened and began to kiss him back.
There was no urgency, no sudden flame of passion, just long, slow kisses, gentle loving touches, soft sighs, and looks of pure love. It was beautiful. The world drifted away, until the only thing in their universe was each other, surrounded by the silver light of the moon, and the stars.
Bard sat up and eased Thranduil's robe, tunic and leggings off, kissing him wherever he exposed Thranduil's pale smooth skin.
"I still think about how you felt in my arms. It was so right, like I had been waiting all my life for that moment, and never knew it." Bard stroked Thranduil's hair, and smiled. "When you kissed me, all the aching and homesickness left me, because my heart found where it belonged."
Thranduil took Bard's face in his hands, and his eyes swam. "Life began to flow into me, again. Things I thought were long-dead, began to come alive once more." He swallowed, and his voice was rough with emotion. "You are a miracle, Meleth nîn. I did not understand it then, but my heart knew you. It knew I was waiting for you, too."
Bard closed his eyes, and leaned into Thranduil's touch. Then he opened them again, and looked down at the Elf with wonder in his eyes.
"Look at you…" he smiled. "I don't think I have ever seen you more beautiful. I can see the stars reflected in your eyes and look how the moon lights up your face, and shines in your hair... I'm amazed that I'm the one you want. I'm the onewho gets to kiss you, to touch you…" He ran his hands down the Elvenking's chest and abdomen with light circles. "I'm the one who has the privilege of holding you like this. After all I've been through, here you are, and you're for me…"
Bard lowered his head and buried his face in the crook of Thranduil's neck, and the Elvenking held him tight, because he felt the same way about his Bowman.
"Ci veleth e-guil nîn, Bard." He whispered, and stroked the black curls. "You are my forever."
"And you are mine," the Bowman answered, and proceeded to prove it to his Elf.
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After they made love, they held each other in silence for a long time, knowing words weren't necessary. They lay in the moonlight, and listened to the sounds of the breeze outside, and song of the crickets.
At long last Bard spoke. "I know it would be romantic to stay here and sleep in the moonlight," he said, as he nestled into Thranduil's shoulder, "but I confess, after a month flat on my back in an uncomfortable bed, I love our new mattress almost as much as you." He kissed Thranduil chest.
"I agree," Thranduil snickered, and sat up. "Come, Meleth nîn."
They got up to wash, then crawled between the sheets of their bed, and Bard settled comfortably against his back.
"I do not know what I did to deserve such wonderful treatment." Thranduil kissed Bard's hand, which was entwined with his own, and placed them over his heart.
"I'm just grateful, Thranduil. Everything you do shows how much you love me, and our family. I wanted to thank you, in some small way."
Thranduil smiled into the darkness. "That was not a small gesture, Hervenn nîn."
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City of Dale, 20thof August, 2942 T.A.
Rhian was just finished setting the table when Ben came in from work.
"I'm home, love! I get to eat supper with my family, for once."
"It's about time," she called out, "we almost forgot what you look like,"
"Story about that, bit it can't be helped." He came into the dining room, and kissed her cheek. "Hello, sweetheart! Where's my grandson?"
"Hi Da," she answered. "Darryn is –"
—not on the blanket where she had put him.
He was sitting at the end of the hall, in front of the door to her room.
"Look at you, lad!" Ben grinned with glee, and went to scoop him up. "He's creeping, now!"
Rhian's face lit up. "Aren't you my clever boy!" She came over to them, and kissed the baby's cheek.
Little Darryn rewarded the attention for his spectacular feat, by grabbing Ben's nose.
"Oooh! Aye, that's my honker you're grabbing, there." He said, as he sat down the table with the baby in his lap. "There'll be no keeping up with you, now. Your poor Mam's not going to get a thing done around here."
"I was talking to Hannah, about getting a special crib made. She says all the Mams used them in Laketown to keep the babies from falling in the water the minute they turned their backs."
"You mean, like a pen for him to play in?"
"Aye. I need to be able to cook and clean, and I don't want him to get near the fire if I'm moving the kettle around. He could really get hurt."
"I've seen them, before – you're Mam had one for you, love. I'll see about getting one made right away."
"Thanks, Da." Rhian set the meat pie down and served it up, along with the green beans and sliced tomatoes. Once she was done, she put Darryn in between them in his high, wooden chair and they dug in to their dinner. For him, she had prepared some mashed-up beans, along with some applesauce.
"How was your day, Da?"
"Too busy, but there's nothing for it, love. I'd still be there if Bard hadn't put his foot down, and said we all had to leave early at least twice a week."
"Sigrid told me that was Lord Thranduil's idea. He makes sure Lord Bard leaves on a regular schedule, and they don't discuss work in the family rooms."
"Good plan. Always done it that way, myself; Cristyn insisted on it, right from the start. 'When you come in the door,' she'd tell me, 'take off the day, and leave it with your hat.' I'd go nuts if I didn't."
"I'm glad for it," she smiled, "that's what we'll do in this house. And don't worry, about neglecting us, either. This is important, and will slow down, eventually." She cut up a tender piece of meat into tiny pieces and gave Darryn some. "Did you see Daeron, today? How is he?"
"Seems fine. Oh! That reminds me: His last day is tomorrow, so we're invited to a surprise supper for him, and Hilda made me promise we wouldn't breathe a word. They're all leaving the next morning for the Wedding, and he's going to stay, and go from there."
"Last day?" She was confused, and her stomach started to churn. "What are you talking about?"
"About Daeron, of course." Ben said, as he took a sip of water. "He's leaving Dale."
"What?" Rhian gasped as she dropped her spoon.
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Beriel, Ambë!– (Quenya) Beriel, Up!
Ai, ma – Oh, yes
Ci veleth e-guil nîn, Bard– You are the love of my life, Bard
Ai, ma, Bard. Gellon n'i iuithog i lebir gîn– I love it when you use your fingers
Gi melin dae– I love you very much (lit. "I love you greatly.")
Hervenn nîn –my husband