Chapter Twenty
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SUMMARY: Ellyn's children bid her farewell in a lovely ceremony.
The first day of school is here, but will Ada survive?
Daeron and his father, Adamar, spend some time together before he leaves.
While Thranduil waits for the Wardens to arrive in the Woodland Realm, he approaches his Council with a matter that has been weighing on his heart.
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"But, my darling, listen
keep it up in your mind
that, when your wings won't fly
and your legs can't pass the roads
and you're all torn and tired
I'll be waiting; just come home
I'll be waiting.
I'll be waiting…."
-Om Sutawane, "I'll Be Waiting"
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City of Dale, 27th August, 2942 T.A.
Bowen thought was fitting that the skies were dark grey, and the rain poured down over Ellyn's mourners, and soaked her linen-wrapped body as it was lowered into the ground.
Anna held a shawl over herself and Owena, and was doing her best to comfort the baby, but nothing could soothe her plaintive cries. Though an infant, she felt the pain of separation, though she didn't quite understand it.
Maddox's face was buried in Daffyd's shoulder as he sobbed, and said, "I want my Mam!" The people at the funeral impulsively crowded closer to what remained of the little family, giving their silent support to the new orphans.
Turamarth's hands rested on Bowen's shoulders, and Beriel leaned against his legs, offering warmth and support, but nothing thawed his frozen heart. This all felt surreal.
And cruel.
"Bowen?" Turamarth leaned down and whispered to him. "It is time. Do you want me to go with you?"
"No. I can do it." The boy swallowed and set his jaw.
He took Owena from Anna, as Hilda handed him two small bouquets of flowers, and one to Maddox. The children of Owen and Ellyn stepped over to the edge of the grave.
"Goodbye, Mam," Bowen said, as he tossed one bouquet. Then he nudged Maddox forward and encouraged him to do the same. Strangely at this moment, Owena had stopped crying, and looked at Bowen intensely, as he helped her toss her nosegay into the grave.
One by one, the others attending the service followed suit, until Ellyn's body was covered with colorful and fragrant flowers. Despite the rain, their fragrance brought ease to the aching hearts of those who would miss her.
And the rain fell.
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The rain never let up during the Feast Hilda had arranged after the service, and when the last mourners threw their cloaks over their heads and dashed into the downpour, Bard sighed and headed back to the Royal Bedchamber.
Thranduil came to him and held him. "You did well, Meleth. Mistress Ellyn's life was celebrated with love today."
"I'm glad Turamarth took Bowen and his dog back to the apartment. These next few weeks are going to be a trial for the boy." The King of Dale blew out a long, exhausted breath. "Stars, but I hate funerals!"
"Do not we all, Bard?" Thranduil kissed his hair. "Yet, we must remember that she is with her husband and family. Ellyn died knowing her children would be loved and cared for, which is not something that happened the night of the Fires of Laketown, or even the Battle."
"Aye. I suppose that's one good thing. Anna told me she made sure the kids wouldn't see her suffer. She wanted the last thing they saw of her to be a smile." Bard looked at Thranduil. "Did Ermon give her something?"
"It is a common practice among my people to allow a peaceful, dignified death, where there is nothing more to be done." Thranduil whispered. "Ermon was the one who helped Owen, as well."
"He did?" Bard looked at his husband's knowing eyes. "Perhaps that's as it should be. It's not something we ever did in Laketown, but to be honest, I've seen too many writhing in agony, and begging for death till the bitter end. I don't see how that could be right, but that's just my opinion."
"I do not understand," the Elf was puzzled. "Why would they allow this?"
"Oh, it's meant well. Some believe it's murder, no matter what the circumstances. That's all right, if that's what they truly believe, but I just never saw it that way. I was glad Ellyn asked Ermon to help her, if only for the children's sake. She was already so thin and pale…"
"Bard, perhaps your people do not have that custom, because the Battle of the Five Armies was their first experience with war. Unfortunately, death in battle is not always quick. We see it as a kind mercy, to ease their way to the Halls of Mandos. Many of the Healers of Men also practiced this in the War of the Last Alliance."
"I see your point. Let's pray Dale doesn't see that kind of thing for a long time."
"My prayer is added to yours." Thranduil smiled and stroked Bard's thick, black curls. "Where are the children?"
"Tauriel is with Rhys and Bain, and Sig and Tilda are still in the Great Hall with Hil and Rhian."
When Bard received the message informing him of Ellyn's death, he offered to let the children stay and return with Alun as scheduled, but he was pleased they expressed the desire to go and support their friends. Rhys had asked to go along, so he was currently sharing Bain's room, while Alun stayed at the Palace to continue his visit with his mother.
"Where is Darryn?"
"Oh, he's with his grandad. I think the girls are going to Rhian's after they finish helping, and the boys are headed over to see Bowen after a while, if he's up to it. I've got to get back to work."
"I wish we could take advantage of our children's absence." The Elvenking smiled sadly. "Though I must admit, I am not feeling particularly amorous."
"Me neither, though it's nice to just hold you." Bard snuggled his face in Thranduil's neck and sighed. "I wish I could have gone on that picnic with you in the forest."
"There will be other opportunities. Your duty was here."
"I know." With a groan, he backed away and left the room.
Thranduil sat on the bed for several moments, deep in thought. He had always thought the Menfolk, knowing the death was inevitable, had found ways to make peace with it. Perhaps for those who were leaving the boundaries of Middle earth, it was easier.
When he and Bard presided over the joint funeral of their people after the Battle, he was too stricken with his own grief to take much notice of the people of Dale, he was too busy trying to keep his composure, to be strong for his own people.
But today, when he saw the sad faces of Ellyn's friends and acquaintances, when he saw the children of Owen and Ellyn in such quiet despair, along with Anna and Daffyd's tears, he knew the truth: Death is no easier for Men than for any other race of Free Peoples of Middle Earth.
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City of Dale, 28th of August 2942 T.A.
The morning after the funeral was a busy one for King Bard. His first appointment was with Daffyd, so when he arrived, they met with Old Ben and Bard in the conference room.
"The reason I've asked you here, is to ask you about your accommodations above the Livery, Daffyd. You only have a two-bedroom apartment, and you must be crowded now."
"Aye, I won't lie about that," the man answered. "We're a bit on top of each other at the moment, but that isn't going to stop us from looking after those kids."
"How is Powell handling it?"
"Oh, he's given Bowen and wee Mad his room, while the baby stays with us. He sleeps in the living room on the couch."
Bard looked at Ben, then back at Daffyd. "That's why we wanted to see you. If you would allow it, I'd like to see about offering you and Anna a house. It would be my contribution, if you would allow it. The extra costs of keeping it up would also be covered by Ellyn's pension from Owen's death, plus your profits from your business."
Ben unrolled some plans on the table. "If you see here, there's something not too far from the business, and it has three bedrooms plus a larger living area. It has a yard so the children could play, and for a garden if Anna wishes it."
"Oh, My Lord; I don't know if I can accept –"
Bard raised his hand, to speak. "I understand your pride, but just hear me out. The way I see it, Powell's what? Nineteen now?"
"Just turned twenty last week, My Lord."
Ben shook his head. "My lands… I remember when you and Anna first had him! You make me feel old..."
"Aye; they grow fast, don't they?" the man agreed.
"So," Bard continued. "Why not give the apartment over to him? He'll be able to keep an eye on your business at night, and you and the kids can live a lot more comfortably."
"But I can't let you buy us a house, My Lord!"
"I wouldn't be." Bard smiled. "At least not all of it. Another reason I wanted to see you, was to tell you that some of the folk in Dale set up a fund to help you and Anna out. Hilda set it up with Alun and Evan, and it's called the 'Widows and Orphans Fund.'"
"The what?"
"You heard me. Seems everybody wanted to pitch in, and there's enough now that can help us get you this house, plus there's plenty more to help others in need. It's the 'Dale way,' like Tom says. It's keeping up the tradition we had in Laketown, to look after each other, and I'm glad of it. Either way, the house is yours."
"Well… thank you, My Lord." Daffyd was bewildered. "The missus will be pleased, when I tell her." He stood up, and paid his courtesy and left.
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Bard's next meeting was with Tom the Potter.
"Tom, I haven't had a chance to tell you how much I appreciate your help with the man who was abusing his wife in the Market last month."
"Oh, you mean Artie? Is he still at the Ice House?"
"Yes, for now, and I've got Thranduil's guards watching him, until we can settle the matter when I hold Court in September. I kept him there on purpose to give him a chance to dry out, and get sober, and also to give his wife a chance to get out from underneath his thumb."
"That's good. I don't know the girl well, but my wife knows her Mam."
"Hannah's been talking to Filomena, and she even took her to see Rhian, which I think did both of them a world of good." Bard grinned. "Which seemed to work, because Filomena's left him for good, and I don't blame her. I've issued a bill of divorcement, so she is free to live her life."
"Aye, I've heard, and bless you for it."
Bard leaned forward. "Tom, you're an honest man who believes in doing the right thing, and you made a statement that day that resonated with me. It is time we started to look after our own affairs, and not depend upon the Elves quite so much. We're going to need them for some time to come to help defend the city, but we need to start governing ourselves, and that, Tom, is where you come in." Bard grinned.
"Here's the thing: we've finished the Jail, and more to the point, the Constable's office. All we need now, is a Constable." The King of Dale raised his eyebrows at the man.
"Me? Why would you want me for the job?"
"Because I have known you all my life. You were friends with my Da when he was alive, and he and Percy always respected you. When I smuggled in supplies for our folk, it you helped distribute it to those who needed it, which shows your regard for our people. You were also good in Battle; you're a strong and intimidating man when you need to be, but you're honest and fair, and don't lose your head easily."
"But what about my business, My Lord?"
"Well, things have slowed, haven't they? Once the first rush to get settled was over, there isn't such a scramble anymore."
"You're right about things calming down..." Tom rubbed his chin.
"Your younger boys could keep up with orders and your wife could run the business." Bard suggested. I was impressed with Egon when he and your other boys brought Artie before me, and I was hoping to have him work with you. The pay would be good, and of course, you'd have some Elves to help, but you," he pointed at the Potter, "would be the one in charge."
"But… I don't know all the ins and outs of the law here, My Lord! I'd be flying by the seat of my pants!"
That statement was met with a hearty laugh. "What do you think I'm doing? In any case, you have a good sense of what's appropriate, and for now, I trust your judgement. As far as written laws, I've got some books from Lord Thranduil's library from Old Dale, and I read them over the winter." Bard indicated three books sitting on the table.
"Your main job would be to settle disputes, and jail offenders when necessary, and I'll do the rest. I trust your judgement of course, but I want to put some checks and balances in place."
Tom sat back. "Where exactly is this jail? I haven't seen it?"
"Oh, it's in another part of the Castle. I didn't want to use the dungeons, because some of it caved in, when the Dragon sacked the place. Eventually, I'll get them repaired, because I'm afraid, as more people come to live here, we may need them, but for now, the Dwarves finished a place over there that's secure," Bard pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "The entrance is along the south side of the building. The main thing," he became very serious, "we can't afford to be bringing offenders through the Great Hall, so close to my family and the people who work here."
"You're right about that; I hated to do it –"
"But you had no choice, I understand. Don't worry about that. So," Bard sat back in his chair, "what do you think?"
"I'll have to talk to my wife of course, and to Egon, but I think you've got a deal."
"Excellent!" Bard stood and held out his hand. "I'll get Alun to work up a salary schedule and so forth, and we can get things set up for three weeks from now. For the most part, you and Egon could take turns in the office, the others can be walking the streets to keep your presence known. As time goes on, I'll be hiring more, but for now, you'll have Egon, if he agrees, and Feren can instruct the Elves who currently guard the streets to answer to you.
"Here," he handed Tom the books. "In the meantime, get yourself familiar with the basics. I've included a list of changes that I want to make, but they honestly aren't much."
"That'll be grand, My Lord." Tom bowed and took the books. "I'll let you know what my wife and son says, but I'm sure they'll agree to it. Thank you."
"I hope you'll still want to thank me later." Bard wasn't kidding.
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Morning, City of Dale, 30th of August 2942, T.A.
The very first day of School in new Dale was about to begin. Though the children had some classes at the Palace last winter, this was different, according to Tilda, who chattered nonstop with excitement, at the idea of a "real" school.
"I'll be just like the big kids!" she said, one evening about a week before classes started.
"Why do you think the school at the Palace was not real, Tithen Pen?" he asked when she crawled into his lap.
"Because it just wasn't, Ada. It was fun, and everything, but this will be sooo much better, because we get to go to a real school building in a whole other place, and I get to stay there alllll day!"
This notion did not delight Thranduil at all. "But I shall miss you, hênig," he frowned. "What will I do without you?"
"Wellll…" Tilda pondered this dilemma, "Da can keep you company, and if you need something to do, just ask Auntie Hil. But," she warned, "don't ever tell her you're bored, or she'll make you work!"
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Bard's grin, before he buried his nose in his book. Hilda bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. Tauriel looked over at the two of them affectionately, as she and Bain worked on their woodcarvings, under Percy's tutelage.
Sigrid didn't even try to hold it in. She just laughed outright and said, "You got that right; last time I complained about being bored, I found myself scrubbing the floors and the baseboards of our house!"
"Thank you for the warning," Thranduil told her seriously.
As in the Woodland Realm, her teacher would be Miss Eryn, which was a relief to everybody. She knew of Tilda's difficulties and had come to the Castle a few days ago to talk to the family. The little girl was immensely relieved to know Esta would be allowed to accompany her, to help keep Tilda from getting too tense, and would alert the teachers should the dog notice any change in her heart or lungs.
It had been decided (by Thranduil) that her parents would walk her school every day, along with her Guard.
Tilda, however, had a different opinion. "But I'm not a baby! The other kids won't have all that, will they?"
"I'm afraid you must have the Guard, Little Bean," Bard said, "so that's not negotiable."
"What's 'negotiable?'"
"It means, you're having a Guard, and that's that. You're lucky Ada won't be standing outside all day waiting for you." Bard teased.
"No," Bain snorted. "He'll be sitting beside her in class all day."
"You wouldn't!" Tilda looked at him. "Da?"
"No, Ada will not. Don't tease, Bain." Bard said. "And Sigrid, stop rolling your eyes. Of course Ada knows he won't be allowed to do that."
"Well, why do you both have to take me?" she looked at them sourly. "You won't take Sigrid and Bain!"
In the end, a compromise was made. If she had to have a guard, then only one parent at a time, was permitted to walk with her.
This would be Thranduil, whenever possible. (That wasn't exactly a compromise, but the Elf pouted and sighed so much, the Bowman gave in).
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On the morning of the 30th, there was a both a rush of excitement (from the girls) and dread (from Bain). The older ones were kissed, handed their lunch, and sent off with Tauriel to head for the school for the older kids near the center of the City. It had taken Bard a while to convince Thranduil that they would not appreciate Ada walking them - the Guards would be bad enough.
A half-hour later, it was time for Tilda to go, and her family crowded around her.
"Bye, Beanie!" Percy said. "Have a good time!"
"I will! Bye, Auntie Hil!"
The woman smiled and kissed both her cheeks. "Do you need a sweater? Maybe I should get –"
"Come on, love," Percy put his arm around his wife. "She'll be fine. It's plenty warm already."
But Hilda wasn't done fussing. She made Tilda turn around and smoothed down her dress, then handed her a small pail with a lid. "Here's your lunch. It's your favorite sandwich and an apple. There are two cookies in there, but save those for snack time, all right? I'll see you this afternoon, lovey. You be good now."
"I will." Tilda nodded, then held up her arms for Bard. "Bye, Da! Don't miss me too much!"
"I'll try." Bard picked her up and hugged her. "You're such a big girl. Pretty soon you're going to be smarter than me!" He kissed her, then put her back down with a pat on her rump. "Go on with Ada, love."
So, the tall Elvenking, the petite Princess, and their guard (Ruvyn, who had changed shifts to accompany them this first day) made their way through the streets to the her little school nearby.
Thranduil had hold of her hand, and it was hard to tell who was more nervous: Tilda, who would be left at school, or the Elvenking, who was going to leave her there.
"Now remember, Tithen Pen," Thranduil reminded her, as they walked along. "You must not run or get too excited, and if you feel tired, or if your left arm or leg begins to feel funny, you must tell Miss Eryn."
"You said that three times, Ada." Tilda frowned. "You're making me nervous."
"I am sorry. I do not mean to; I simply want to make sure you are well."
"But I'm already so different! I just want to be like everybody else!"
Thranduil stopped and stooped down to look her in the eye. "No, my little love. Do not wish that. You are an extraordinary child just the way you are."
"But I can't do stuff!" she whined.
"For now, you cannot," Thranduil reminded her patiently.
"But I need to do it now!"
"Yet, you must be patient. I shall strike a bargain with you."
"What's that?"
"A bargain is an agreement," the Elvenking explained.
"Oh. Like a deal?"
"Precisely. If you bear these restrictions graciously, I shall tell you a story tonight at bedtime."
"You always tell me a story, Ada," Tilda rolled her eyes.
"Oh, but this one I think you will like. You see, you are not the first person who rebelled against a Healer's instructions. I could tell you of two more, and you may find their story rather funny."
"Why?"
"Because they acted much much worse than you do." 1
"Who are they?"
"You will find out, if you do what Daeron says." He smiled down at her. "Are we agreed?"
Tilda considered. "Okay," she squeezed his hand. "It's a deal!"
Soon they reached the steps of her small school, where Miss Eryn was waiting on the steps with a smile. "Good morning, My Lord," she curtsied, "and are you ready to start, Lady Tilda?"
"Please," the Elvenking requested with a smile. "Let us drop the titles in class. She is your pupil and she will simply be Tilda."
"Of course, My Lord. I agree that will be better. And here is Esta! Are you ready to help us today?"
The black-and-white dog wagged her tail eagerly and barked a few times, making the teacher laugh.
"Is everybody here yet?"
"Yes." The teacher smiled down at Tilda. "Are you ready to go in?"
"Uh huh!" Tilda eagerly rushed inside, leaving her poor Ada a bit wide-eyed and bewildered.
"Ooh! I forgot!" she rushed back out to him and give him a quick hug. "Bye, Ada!" and with a wave, she disappeared again.
Miss Eryn had to hide her smile. "Don't worry, My Lord," she reassured him. "We'll take good care of her, and I promise: if there are any problems, we'll send for you at once."
"I thank you," Thranduil nodded, then turned to Ruvyn, and told him in Sindarin, "De sîr meriathodh a tiro hîn; daro ar adab."
"Ben iest dhîn, Aran nîn." The Guard saluted, and took his place next to the steps.
Miss Eryn was skeptical. "I am sure she will be safe, My Lord…"
"I do not doubt your abilities, Miss Eryn. As much as Lord Bard and I want Tilda to be treated normally, we cannot escape the fact that she is the daughter of two Kings, and must be under guard at all times."
"Of course, My Lord." She smiled patiently at Thranduil, then went inside and shut the door.
Thranduil heaved a sigh, then walked home and went to Bard's study.
Bard greeted him with his arms crossed and a knowing grin. "Well? How did it go, Ada?"
"It was… difficult." Thranduil said, as he schlumped into a chair. "I felt like…"
"…you were losing her, a little bit? Like she was growing up too fast and won't be our little girl for much longer? Like time is slipping through your fingers and you can't stop it?"
"Please do not tease me, Bard," Thranduil pouted at him.
"Oh, I'm not teasing, love." Bard got up and put his arms around the Elf. "I'm only telling you how I felt when I had to leave her at the Palace with you. It's the same with Sigrid and Bain. I'm excited for them, but every step like this reminds me we won't have them forever." He gave the Elvenking a sad smile. "The whole idea of parenting is to work yourself out of a job. They'll be grown with their own lives before we know it."
"I hate it." Thranduil looked up at his husband with a frown. "Human children grow up entirely too fast."
Thranduil felt Bard kiss his hair. "I know, love. But having the kids gone all day does have its advantages..." he wiggled his eyebrows.
"Such as?"
Bard pulled him up to stand, and between kisses said, "Such as taking the morning off, to 'console' each other? Galion has cleared your schedule, and I've given instructions that we are not to be disturbed..."
Thranduil said nothing, but grabbed Bard's hand, dragged him back into the bedchamber, and locked the door.
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The Woodland Realm, 8th of September 2942 T.A.
Daeron walked among the trees of the forest with his father, Adamar, enjoying the feel of the grass beneath their bare feet.
"I am glad to spend some time with you before you go, Ion nîn. Your mother worries about you, although," Adamar smiled and shrugged, "I suppose that is what naneths do, no matter how old their children are. To be honest, I am concerned, as well."
"I know, Ada." Daeron sighed. "I do not know what the future holds for me, but I am thinking that no matter what happens, there will be sadness."
"Why do you say this?" His father asked.
"If Rhian marries another, I do not think I will return to Dale, and I would probably sail. As much as I love Dale and our home, I could not bear to see her make a life with another."
"I know how you were when Sellwen was killed, along with her mother. It is a wonder you did not sail then."
"I sometimes think I should have, but something…" Daeron shook himself. "No, it was right that I stayed. But I cannot bear a sundering a second time. I know it." Daeron looked at his father. "If Rhian gives me some indication that we could be together, then I would be the happiest Elf in Middle Earth, but," and he looked at his father sadly, "that would also mean I would not join you and Nana in Valinor. Either way, I will be permanently apart from those I care about. It's a terrible choice, but I cannot change who I am."
"I would never want you to change, Daeron. It would break your mother's heart to be without you," Adamar admitted, "but we support you, no matter what you decide. At least we have the consolation of Eärendil's blessing, and know you could still live a long life here, as would Rhian, and the children of your union." 2
Adamar put his hand on Daeron's shoulder. "Ion, I would rather see you live a short and happy life, than to spend an eternity in Valinor wishing things had been different."
"Thank you, Ada."
"Let us not dwell on such things; since we do not yet know what your future holds, focus on what's in front of you." His father continued his counsel. "Go to Lothlórien and discover the meaning behind the Lady Galadriel's riddle. More important, serve our King by serving the Lord and Lady, for in this way, you will do right by yourself." Adamar put his arms around his son. "N'uir thiad gîn 'ell, Ionneg."
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The Woodland Realm, 10th of September 2942 T.A.
Thranduil had been at his Palace for nearly a week now, and would remain for at least a week more. The Wardens would be coming from the Golden Wood in two days, to spend a week at the Palace, before he bid his unit farewell, then led the Galadhrim to Dale.
It was mid-afternoon, and Thranduil had been meeting for most of the day with his Council, and after accomplishing everything on the agenda for the month, he had broached a rather delicate, yet important subject:
"Lords and Ladies of the Council," he said with a bow. "I would like to seek your approval for a pardon for my adopted-daughter, Tauriel Neldor-Thranduilliel. 3 It has become increasingly clear to me that her actions before and during the Battle were the catalyst for much of the good that we all benefit from now. I once saw her actions as treasonous, but now I see they were done out of instincts that I shared, but refused to heed. She also acted out of desperation, not just for her Dwarven friends, but on Dale's and my own behalf."
Lady Emëldir, the Head of the Council tilted her head slightly. "Please explain, My Lord."
"Certainly. I no longer believe Tauriel betrayed me. In fact, I have come to believe that she knew if I were to abandon those Men and Dwarves to certain death, all hope of my own recovery from grief would be lost."
"But," another Elf wondered, "how could she have known about you and Lord Bard then?"
"You misunderstand me," Thranduil answered. "Of course, Tauriel could not have known what the future held for myself and my husband. What I am saying is, and I believe this to be true, if I had followed through with my command to leave, even if Lord Bard had lived, I would have damaged myself to the point of no return, no matter who was destined for me."
Thranduil swallowed, and took in a deep breath. This was still a difficult subject for him, but he was determined. "At that moment, she held an arrow to my face and said, 'there is no love in you,' and she was correct, for within seconds, I held a blade to the throat of my own child.
"I am not saying what she did was right, but in the heat of the moment, she risked her life to not only save these people, but she also wanted to save me from myself."
Feren stood up and bowed. "My Lords and Ladies, I would like to second my King's request. Make no mistake: I do not sanction anyone holding a weapon to our King, and I still believe the banishment was an appropriate punishment, but I have since come to believe that it need not be permanent."
"What does the Brennil Tauriel say about this matter?" Emëldir asked.
"She is unaware of our intentions here." Thranduil shook his head. "If she were, I believe she would try to talk me out of it. My daughter is of the opinion that a light sentence would not serve as a deterrent for others who would wish to do me bodily harm."
"That is true," Feren added. "She is keen to take responsibility for her actions, but she is more concerned for her father's safety, which speaks to her quality. Yet, we are blessed with a King who is counted among the best Warriors of Middle Earth and is well-protected at all times."
"In any case," Thranduil continued, "this is just as much a personal family matter as it is a legal matter, and I would like to ask this Council to take that into consideration. Though I have the power to do this without your consent, I would rather you all support me in this decision."
After much discussion, a compromised was reached. Regardless of the affection they all held for Tauriel, they could not in any way pardon what they still believed to be an act of treason. One simply could not overlook the fact that she raised a weapon to their King.
The final decision was this: rather than a pardon, the banishment would not be permanent, and ten years after the incident, Tauriel Neldor-Thranduilliel would once again be permitted in the Palace.
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
N'uir thiad gîn 'ell, Ionneg – Ever is your presence a joy, my dear boy.
De sîr meriathodh a tiro hîn; daro ar adab. – Please guard her and all the children today, stay outside of building.
Ben iest dhîn, Aran Nîn – As you wish, My King
Brennil Tauriel – Lady Tauriel
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NOTES:
1 And Winter Came…, Ch. 37: /works/12026709/chapters/31879389
2 And Winter Came…. Ch. 40: /works/12026709/chapters/32276277
3 Tauriel's formal name is Tauriel Neldor-Thranduilliel. Her birth father's name was Neldor, and as a courtesy to him, the Elvenking wanted to include it when he adopted her. Because she is a female the suffix "-iel" is added to her father's name, as opposed to a son, who would add "-ion," e.g. "Legolas Thranduillion."
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