21
Chapter Thirty-Nine
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SUMMARY: The hostages have been rescued, Thranduil survived the fire, and the Thrall, and all its evil has been destroyed. But it's all been too much for Tilda's delicate heart.
What was in that box Galadriel opened?
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"There was nowhere I could go that wouldn't be you."
― Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex
Lothlórien, 30th of May 2943 T.A., Early Hours of the Morning
Daeron shielded his eyes from the bright light of the glass vial in Galadriel's hands. "What is that, My Lady?"
"This is the Light of Eärendil, Guardian."
"I do not understand…"
Galadriel smiled, and simply said, "Hold out both your hands, Lieutenant. Palms up."
He did so, and she placed the glass vial on its side into his upturned hands and covered it with her own, and Celeborn put his hands atop of hers.
"You are a gifted Healer, Mellon, and you are familiar with Princess Tilda's body. I want you to show me her heart, then tell me what needs to be done to repair the damage. Do not speak words out loud, just… you will know how to tell me.
"Yes, My Lady." Daeron swallowed, nervous. "I do not know if I can— "
"No, you cannot, but we will use the Light to do what could not normally be done. You must have faith, Guardian."
Daeron looked down into the Mirror of Galadriel, and saw the group in the woods again, and drew close to Bard, Thranduil, and their family. Tilda was lying in the Elvenking's lap, and the others were weeping.
Were they too late? His stomach flipped, and anxiety filled his heart...
Do not allow distractions, Daeron… Galadriel's voice said in his mind. You must concentrate…
He looked deeper, and saw Lord Thranduil's hand on her chest, and he knew he was keeping her alive.
He looked beneath the King's hand, under the fabric of her dress, then her skin, muscle, ribs and finally the organ that was failing fast...
Daeron's eyes widened as he examined Tilda's heart, and was appalled at how much it had degenerated since since he'd last seen her! How could she still be alive?
Concentrate, Guardian… Galadriel warned. We have not much time...
He carefully probed each portion of the organ, and pointed out where the muscle had been weakened, and the Light began to regenerate the tissue under his tutelage. Then… The valves that were supposed to pump the blood through her heart were much too loose and thin, so together, they tightened and thickened them until they functioned perfectly.
It looked good. Very good.
Well done, Lieutenant…
Wait, My Lady…
They moved next to Tilda's lungs, and Daeron showed The Lady all the scar tissue left from the infection. He was disheartened at the damage, but did as Galadriel bid him, and concentrated his efforts. This was extremely delicate, because the scar tissue had to dissolve completely, and nothing could break off, lest it cause a blockage, but the power of the Light made it possible.
Daeron and the Lady checked the sheath around her brain that had become infected. They spent a great deal of time on this area, before proceeding to her spine and her organs, until he felt satisfied all was as it should be.
I believe she is healed… Thank you.
Daeron opened his eyes, and smiled at the Lord and Lady.
And Celeborn began to laugh…
She opened her eyes, to find she was sitting in the middle of a forest, but it was different. These trees were so big around they could fit a whole house inside!
"My Lady?"
She turned around to see a very tall man – an Elf – with hair even lighter than Ada's. His was a silvery-white, and he was dressed in a white tunic grey leggings and tall, gray boots. He seemed nice, and walked toward her and smiled down at her.
"You are Tilda, Princess of Dale, are you not?"
"Uh huh," she nodded, then said "Oh!" The Elf looked like he was really important, so she got up, picked up the sides of her skirt and curtsied politely. "I mean, yes I am. Mae de 'ovannen, Hîr Nîn.
The Elf smiled, put his hand over his heart and bowed. "Mae de 'ovannen, Gwennig. You have very good manners, and your Sindarin is excellent."
"Thank you. Ada says to always have good manners, because Princesses have to set a good example." She smiled. "He pesters at my Da because his Sindarin is terrible. Da says a lot of bad words, too, but don't tell him I told you that."
"Your Ada taught you well. I am Thranduil's cousin, Lord Celeborn."
Tilda's eyes grew wide with excitement. "Really? When did you come? Did you bring Lady Gallerdil?"
"Galadriel," he corrected her.
She sighed in frustration. "I never get that right."
"Your mistake is understandable. Elven names can be difficult to pronounce."
"Uncle Percy says that, too. But she sends me nice letters. My Ada made me a box to keep them in, so I can read them when I'm older, he says. Is she here?" Tilda looked around. "But… where are we? This isn't like home."
"Ah, well. That would take some explaining, would it not?" He smiled again and held out his hand. "Would you walk with me Little Princess?"
"Where are we going?"
"Nowhere in particular, to be honest. Your parents have to take care of a few things, so I will keep you company while they are busy, if that is all right with you."
"Can we see the Lady, too?"
"Not this time, I am afraid. She is busy with your friend Daeron."
"Daeron!" she jumped up and down from excitement. "He's here too? I miss him! When is he coming back to Dale? Can he come soon? Can I see him?"
Celeborn laughed. "So many questions you ask!"
"Uncle Galion says I have a 'curious nature.'" She said proudly, "I'm not sure what that means, though."
"It means that you like to learn about new things. There is nothing wrong with that." They continued down a path among the big trees, toward a small pond, where the moonlight sparkled on the water.
"He and Ada call me Tithen Pen. That means "Little One."
"That seems appropriate. You are quite small, although I admit I do not know many human children your age."
"My Auntie Hil says I'm tiny, just like my Grand-ma. She was really short, and I guess I look like her, too. Sigrid - that's my big sister – looks like Mam, and she's taller. My brother Bain looks like Da, but he says Bain is better-looking."
"It sounds like you have a nice family."
"Uh huh. Then Da and Ada got married and Tauriel's my new sister, and we have Uncle Galion, and Uncle Percy. And Daeron and Turamarth and Ruvyn and Ivran, and Meldon…. They guard us, but they're my friends. Feren – that's Ada's best friend—"
"I have met Feren. And Galion, as well."
"Well, Feren and his wife 'Lindë – we call her that, cause I can't say her name, either – adopted two girls, and one of them is named Alis, and she's in my class at school..."
Celeborn was entertained by the child's enthusiasm, as well as her litany of friends, family, favorite activities. He listened with a smile, as the little girl chattered away, while they walked.
"My goodness, you know a great many people, do you not? Let us sit for a minute." The silver-haired Elf pointed to a bench beside a small pool of water. "The view is nice here, and I would like to speak with you."
"Okay." The bench was high, so he helped her crawl up, then made herself comfortable, as Celeborn sat beside her, and put his arm over the back of the seat.
"Tilda, some terrible things happened last night, and perhaps we should talk about them. Can you tell me what you remember?"
She looked down at the hands in her lap, and said in a thin voice, "I don't want to think about it."
"I know, but it might make you feel better in the long run," he urged, "but first, I want to tell you that your Ada and your Da are safe, and so is your sister and your brother. They will be fine, do you understand? You do not have to be afraid anymore, Gwennig."
She looked at him warily. "Really? Cause it was really scary."
"Yes, I know. I also know you have been ill, and that is why I am here with you. I want to keep you company while my wife and Daeron help you get better."
"Better? Like it won't hurt anymore?"
Celeborn blinked in alarm. "Were you in pain, Tilda?"
She nodded reluctantly. "It would feel heavy here," she put her hand on her chest, "and it would be like bubbles. Sometimes it would squeeze and hurt."
"Did you tell your parents this?"
She shook her head. I wouldn't let Esta tell, either."
Celeborn lifted his eyebrows at her. "That was unwise, My Lady. Your parents need to know these things. Your Ada could have helped you feel better."
"I know," she swallowed, "but you won't tell them? Please?"
"Why would you not want them to know?"
"When I got sick, I made them cry and I felt really bad. They worry all the time, especially Ada!" She sighed and rolled her eyes. "And I hate it when he makes that sad face! Da does, too, but they don't know I know it."
"That is only because your family loves you."
"But I want them to be happy!" She frowned. "Ada was sad for a really long time, did you know?"
"I do, Little One. And when we learned of his marriage to your father, we were very much relieved. Your Ada has told us all about you, and I am glad for him."
"See what I mean? Da was sad, too, because Mam died, and now they're happy, and we all have a good time, and everybody smiles, and laughs…". She looked up at him with her big, blue eyes. "I don't want to ruin it!"
"I can understand that. Hopefully, things will be better after this." Celeborn tilted his head. "Now, we need to talk about recent events: I know you were frightened and upset, Tilda, but I do not want you to feel as bad as you did after the Battle in Dale."
"You mean, when the Dragon, and all the Orcs came?"
He nodded. "Yes. You had a hard time with that, did you not? Your family was worried for you, and we would not want you to suffer like that again."
"I didn't want to think about that, either, so I pretended it wasn't real."
"I know, but it is always better to face things, though sometimes that can be hard."
"I cried a lot, and had bad dreams, but Da said that was better than pretending like it didn't happen."
"He is right. It helps to talk about things, and it is good to cry when you are sad. Tears help wash away our sadness, so we can learn to feel happiness again."
"But it was awful!"
"I know, and I am sorry about that." Celeborn crossed one leg over the other, and sighed. "Tilda, I am sorry to tell you this, but you lost a couple of friends last night. Friends who were very brave, and who cared about you a great deal."
"Who?"
"I am afraid one of your Guards, Meldon, has died."
"He did?" Her lips wobbled. "But he was so nice! He would take me to school, sometimes!"
"I am sure he was good to you, but it is as I said. He tried to protect you and your sister from some very wicked people." He put his arm around her shoulder. "I do not want you to feel like that was your fault, because it was not. All soldiers know the risks, and Meldon died with great honor, doing something he believed in. You will miss him, and feel sad, but do not feel guilty. He wanted to protect you, Tilda."
Tilda wiped her eyes. "I'll try."
"That is all I ask." Then Celeborn said, in a very gentle voice. "There was another friend who died, Tilda, but I think you know that." Then he waited.
After a few minutes, Tilda softly asked, "Esta's dead, isn't she?" Her eyes overflowed as she began to cry.
"I am afraid so, child." He said, softly.
He picked her up and held her in his lap, while she wept. Then he took out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes and made her blow her nose.
"She took care of m-me," she hiccuped.
"I know. Esta had great courage and she loved you very much."
"But I don't want her to die!" Tilda's lips wobbled. "She's my best friend." She laid her head on his shoulder. "I'll miss her too much."
Celeborn rubbed her back, and tried to soothe her. "I know, Gwennig. But you must face it, and have the courage to say goodbye. You will be sad for a time, but you can get through it."
"How?"
"Perhaps you could think about some good memories. Can you tell me what you love about her?"
"Well…" She began to speak about how Ada gave her to them, and the many fond memories they shared. She leaned her head against his chest as she talked.
"…and she bit Thangon in the rear end when we found out he got our friend's dog pregnant."
"Do you think she was jealous?" Celeborn smiled.
"No. She was mad because Thangon got Bain so embarrassed, and she didn't like that. Celeborn?" Her blue eyes implored his grey ones. "Do you think Esta has a soul?"
"You mean, like a fëa?"
"Uh huh."
"I am certain of it."
"Where will she go?"
"Perhaps she will go to be with your mother." He sat her back down on the bench, and stroked her hair. "Would you like it if she did?"
"Uh huh. Maybe she could keep her company. Mam hasn't seen any of us since I was born, and she must miss us a lot."
He reached down a booped her on the nose. "I think your mother would be happy with Esta. Perhaps you can picture that, when you think about your friend."
"What will happen to Meldon?"
"Well, Elves do not normally die, but when they do, there is a place called the Halls of Waiting. Some of the Valar live there, and they help."
"Which ones?"
"Námo and his wife Vairë, reside there. Nienna comes to the Halls to counsel and offer comfort, when she can."
"Who's that?"
"Nienna is another Vala. She is Námo's sister, and together, they look after the Elves, who spend some time considering their lives."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, Eru, our Creator, wants them to think of things they did on Middle Earth, so when they are born again in Valinor, they will be very wise."
"Oh. Ada says we should try to learn from our mistakes."
"He is right, you know."
"Ada knows everything."
Celeborn smirked at that. "I'm sure he enjoys hearing you say that."
"But if a Elf made lots of mistakes, will he stay longer?"
"Oh, yes. There is one Elf I know of, who will never leave the Halls of Mandos, for his actions caused many, many deaths long ago." 1
Tilda's mouth dropped. "That's really bad."
"It was. My wife was there, and witnessed some of it. In fact, Fëanor was her Uncle."
"Does she feel bad about it? Cause she shouldn't; I mean, cause that wasn't her fault, what her Uncle did. She'd never be bad like that."
"I will tell her what you said, and I am sure it will make her feel better."
"Where is Validor?"
"Valinor," he corrected with a smile. "Did your Ada not tell you about it? It is a wonderful place where Elves sail to, when their work on Middle Earth is done. My wife was born there, did you know that?"
"Weren't you?"
"I was not, alas. I was born in Middle Earth, but I will sail there, one day, when my work is done."
"Can I go, too?"
Before Celeborn could answer, Tilda shook her head. "No, wait. I should go where Mam and Esta are. They might miss me and be sad."
"I am positive they would."
She looked up at him with an earnest face. "Will Meldon be all right? He was nice, and didn't do bad things like that other Elf, so maybe he'll only be the Halls just a little bit."
"If he is as brave and kind as you say, then I agree with you. His friends and family will be very sad for a time. But you must all try to remember that he will be in a good place, and he is at peace."
"Can I go see Daeron and Gallerdil, now?"
Celeborn shook his head. "Not tonight, but someday soon." He got up, then helped her get down from the bench. "I think it is time to get back, do you not agree?"
"I suppose." She took his hand, and looked around as they walked back.
"Your trees are really big."
"They are indeed. The largest and most beautiful trees on Middle Earth."
"The Lady said your houses are at the top." She craned her neck and pointed upwards. "Way up there?"
"Yes."
"Can we go up, so I can see one?"
"I wish we could, but there is not enough time, just now. Perhaps your parents can bring you for a visit; would you like that?"
"Uh huh!"
He stopped at the place where they first met, then Celeborn took her hand and kissed it. "I have enjoyed speaking with you, Little Princess. I hope we meet again soon." He gave her a bow and a formal salute, and she curtsied. Then Celeborn helped her lie down in the grass. "Close your eyes, little maid." He leaned down and kissed her brow, then whispered, "It is time to wake up, and see the faces of those who love you."
He stood up straight and smiled down at her for a moment, then he turned and walk away—
"WAIT!"
Tilda was sitting up again.
He turned around looking a bit puzzled. "Yes? What is it?"
"You said I was going to get better, right?"
"I did, yes."
"You mean really, really better? All-the-way better?"
"Well, yes; I imagine that is what it means." His brows furrowed, and he took a step back toward her. "Why do you ask?"
"Does that mean I can run and jump like all the rest of the kids now? I won't have to sit all the time?"
"I would think so."
"And no more naps?"
"Well, I cannot speak to what your parents would say, but—"
She huffed, and scowled. "But I'll be better, you said! None of the other kids have to take naps!" Her lower lip began to pout.
"Ah. Well, you tell your Ada I said you were – how did you put it? 'All-the-way better' and you will probably be able to act like any normal child your age."
"And go on the swings, and the climbing bars?"
"I do not know what those things are."
"They're at my school, in the playground. Kids have fun on them."
"Oh. Well, I do not see why you could not—"
"Oh, good. And thanks, about the naps, I mean." she rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. "I'm soooo sick of them!"
"I can see that. Now lie back down and close your— "
"This will be great!" she said brightly. "Wait till Gwen and Alis see me! They'll be sooooo surprised when I start playing jump-rope, and I'll bet I can run faster than Liam, even!"
"Who are Gwen and Liam?"
"They're in my class at school. The girls are my best friends and really nice, but Liam," she made a face, "he's a nasty boy."
"Ah. You might not always think boys are nasty. You could even learn to like them, someday."
"Not Liam! Blech!" Tilda stuck out her tongue. "Liam thinks girls are dumb, and can't do anything but stay home and take care of the house, and he's a big, fat, nasty-faced jerk!"
"I think I agree with you." Celeborn's eyebrow shot up. "Perhaps I should make a point to introduce this Liam to my wife."
"Could you?" She asked hopefully. "He'd be so scared, he'd poop his pants, and it would serve him right!"
"Let us hope it does not come to that. Now, Miss Tilda, it really is time for you to lie down again."
"Oh. Right."
She lay prone again and closed her eyes…
...then opened them again and sat up.
"Celeborn?"
"What is it now?" He sighed and put his hands on his hips. "Do you know you remind me of our daughter when she was small? She never liked to lie down, either."
"She didn't?"
"No. But that is a story for another time, and now I really must send your back to your family, Tilda. As much as I have enjoyed my time with you, your parents are sick with worry, and need to see you."
"Oh, I know, but…"
He got down on one knee and looked down at her. "Yes?"
"But what if I tell them what you said about me being really, all-the-way better and they don't believe me and still make me take naps and don't let me run and play with the other kids?"
"I see your dilemma. Wait here." Celeborn walked away for a moment. "Here." He presented her with one of the yellow flowers that grew along the paths. "It is called Elanor, and these flowers only grow in the Golden Wood. I think if you show this to your Ada, he will be inclined to believe you."
"Thank you. Gallerdil sent one like this, only it was pressed between books. It's really pretty," she sniffed it. "It smells nice, too."
"I am glad you like it."
"Can I do something else before I go?"
Celeborn let out a sigh. "Make it quick."
She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "Thank you," she said. "And please give this to Gallerdil for me." She kissed him soundly on the cheek. "And tell Daeron I miss him." Another kiss. "That's for you. It was really nice of you to help me."
"It was entirely our pleasure, my dear. Now," he raised both eyebrows, and smirked, "do you think you can stay down, this time?"
"Uh huh." And this time, she did.
Forest to the South of Dale
Bard stood up, looked toward the fire, and wiped his eyes, which were so swollen he could hardly see. He was a mess, Thranduil was worse, as he and Sigrid collapsed against each other. Hannah and Rhian we're with Turamarth as he offered his support. Ruvyn stood a few yards away, facing in the other direction as his shoulders shook with sobs, as Mablung rubbed his back, and the Galadhrim had taken Adila's children away from the area to calm them down.
This entire day seemed so surreal, and tragic. So many losses… Even the miracle of Thranduil making it out of the fire didn't matter right now, because they had lost Tilda. He didn't feel any sense of victory over the Evil that tried to destroy them, because it did destroy part of his heart that cherished their baby.
With a sad sigh, he realized there was nothing more they could do here. The Elves had the fire under control, and they had to start thinking of getting back. Everyone in Dale and the Mountain will be frantic with worry, and Rhian needed to see her son.
And he needed to see Bain, and break the terrible, terrible news to him and the rest of the family.
Oh, Valar… Give me strength…
He wiped his eyes again and blew his nose, then turned back to the sorrowful scene. Thranduil and Sigrid were lost in stunned silence, as Ermon bent over Tilda's body...
…and behaving strangely. He seemed to frantically be checking her over…
"My Lord?" the Healer said in a strange tone of voice.
"What is it?" Bard took a cautious step closer.
"I think…" Ermon picked up Tilda's wrist and took her pulse. Then he felt under her neck, and finally he put his ear directly on her chest.
"Ermon, what—"
"QUIET!" the Healer yelled, which stunned everyone to silence, while he listened some more.
Thranduil and Sigrid slowly approached and kneeled at Ermon's side.
"Her heart…" Ermon sat up in amazement. "It is not only beating, My Lord, it is… strong. It is functioning like a perfectly normal heart! She—"
"What?" Thranduil put his hand on Tilda's chest for a minute. "Elo!"
Bard dropped down on his knees. "What's going on?"
"I swear to you, Lord Bard," the Healer looked at him with earnest surprise. "On my honor, your daughter's heart was severely damaged, and it stopped! It did! But now…"
"You said she was dying!"
"And she was! She did!" Truly, she did; I checked myself! But, now she is…not dead! That is all I can tell you." The Healer was incredulous. "I do not understand how this can be, but I am telling you the truth!"
"Bard," Thranduil interjected, "He is right."
"But—"
"She's actually alive?" Sigrid asked. "She didn't die?" She reached over, took Tilda's pulse, and gasped. "It's perfect…" She looked at Ermon with wide eyes. "It really is! What happened?"
"I honestly cannot say, My Lady."
"No!" Bard's eyes widened in trepidation, too afraid to trust what he was hearing. "No, no, no…. No!" He shook his head, and pointed to Ermon angrily. "You said… You told me…"
"He speaks the truth, Meleth nîn." Thranduil grabbed Bard's hand, and put in on Tilda's chest and put his over top. "Look! See for yourself!"
And there was her heart, beating strong and steady in her rib cage.
He pulled his hand off and stared at Thranduil. "HOLY SHIT BALLS!" He cried at the top of his lungs.
"Da-a, don't swear…" a quiet voice was heard.
Everyone stared at Tilda like she was an apparition.
"She just talked!" Sigrid said. "Tilda just talked!"
"I always talk, Sig." She lifted her hand and rubbed her eye. "Where are we?"
Thranduil swallowed and looked down. "We…. are in the woods, Tithen Pen. We rescued you and the others from the wagon. Do you remember?"
"Oh, that's right." She looked over at the wagon and sat up. "It's on fire..."
"Yes, it is." Thranduil smiled, then tearfully hugged her, and kissed her hair. "I cannot believe it! I cannot believe it!" he kissed her a few more times. "You are here…"
Bard reached for her. "My turn. Come here, Little Bean."
Tilda hugged him tight. "I knew you and Ada would come and save everybody. Sigrid said so."
"Of course, we did, love. No matter what, we will always come."
"Did anybody get hurt?"
"Just the bad men," Bard leaned over and kissed her brow and smiled into her face. "They're all dead and it's over. How do you feel?"
"Good, but tired." She yawned. "It's the middle of the night."
"Yes, it is," he smiled down at her and sniffed and wiped his eyes. "Way past your bedtime."
She looked up at him. "Your face is all splotchy." Then she looked at Thranduil. "Yours is, too. You were crying."
"Yes, I am afraid we were." The Elvenking said in a rough voice. "We thought you were lost to us."
Tilda reached up and wiped the tears from Thranduil's face. "There." Then she sniffed. "Your clothes smell like smoke, and they feel crusty. And your hair got burned, too."
"Only a bit. We shall cut it off later, when I can change," he said. Then Thranduil started to cry again, and hugged her to him. "Oh, Tithen Pen…"
"Please don't cry, Ada. Don't be sad, cause you don't have to worry about me, anymore."
"Why is that, Little Bean?" Bard still stroked her head. "You were dying, and Ermon says you're better, but— "
Tilda struggled to sit up. "I got better. I'm really, really better! Celeborn says! He told me that Daeron and Gallerdil fixed me. And I won't have to worry about getting tired or excited anymore, and," She fixed her Ada with fierce glare. "No more naps!"
Bard shook his head. "I know how badly you want to—"
"But it's true, Da! It really is! I saw the place with the giant trees, and Celeborn and I went for a walk to this really pretty place and…" She stopped, and her chin wobbled. "We talked about Esta."
"Oh, I'm sorry about that, love. I really am."
"I am, too. I'll really miss her, and Celeborn says I'll feel really sad for a while, but I should try to think about how she went to be with Mam, so I know she's happy." She blinked up at Bard. "Mam will like Esta, right?"
"I know she will, Little Bean."
"Maybe, where they are, Esta could tell Mam all about us." Sigrid reached down and gave her a hug. "I'm so glad you're okay, Til!"
She meant to let go after a minute, but Tilda held her tighter. "You took care of me, just like when the Orcs came. I'm sorry it happened, but I'm glad you were with me."
"I'm glad, too," Sigrid hugged her again, then sat back and smiled at her. "That's what sisters are for, right?"
"Da?" Tilda asked him. "I made extra sure about the running and stuff, and he says that they really fixed me. You believe me, right?"
Bard tilted his head. "This is… a lot to digest, and it's been a long and terrible day…"
"But it's all over! You said the bad men are all gone, and— "
"Bard…" Thranduil looked thoughtfully at their daughter.
"…and I am sure your dream was very vivid, and it seemed real…"
"Bard…"
"But Da-a!"
"Bard…"
"…but until we get you back into Dale and have Ermon check you out…"
"Bard!"
"What?" Bard looked at Thranduil impatiently. "Listen, we still don't know what happened here, really, and what if it's just a fluke?"
"It's not a fuuke!" Tilda said stubbornly. "He said— "
"Fluke," Bard corrected, "and I—-"
"Bard," Thranduil held up Tilda's hand. "She's not making it up. Look!"
Bard was speechless, as he looked at the bright yellow star-flower his daughter was holding. "Where did you get that?"
"Celeborn gave it to me," she said with a scowl on her face, "because I told him you wouldn't believe me, and you'd still try to make me take naps, and not let me do anything, and I was right! See?" She held it up. "It's a Enalor flower— "
"Elanor," Thranduil corrected. "These only grow in Lothlórien, Bard. And I know she's telling the truth because – Sigrid, would you hand me that cloak I gave you?"
The girl quickly took it from her shoulders and handed it over.
"Thank you, Iellig. It was Celeborn who helped me get out of the fire, and told me about the Thrall. Here," He tossed the cloak to Bard, "see for yourself."
Bard caught the garment, and stared at it. "This… this isn't yours,"
"No, it is not."
"But…but…". Bard stuttered. "Where did you get this?"
"It is as I said, Meleth nîn." The Elvenking's voice was patient. "Celeborn appeared, then used that, to shield me from the flames."
"But this can't be…" he turned it over in his hands and saw a tag on the inside with some Tengwar script (which didn't tell him a thing, because he still couldn't read it) but the insignia of the Mallorn leaf was unmistakable….
"HOLY SHIT BALLS!" He repeated, and dropped cloak, as if it were burning him.
"Da-a! Language!" Both his daughters reprimanded him sharply, then looked at each other and began to giggle.
Thranduil tried to hide his grin, but began to sputter and snicker, and Ermon covered his mouth and shoulders began to shake in silent laughter. Bard looked at all of them like they'd lost their minds, until he started to laugh, too.
For several minutes, the group of Elves and their rescued hostages whooped and laughed and cried and hugged, as they celebrated their victory and enjoyed being alive.
"Come on, everybody." Bard stood up and wiped his eyes. "Let's go home."
Lothlórien, Galadriel's Garden
Celeborn was still chuckling, as he swiped his arm out. The scene from the forest fell away and he was back in the Garden with his wife and Daeron again.
"What do you laugh at, Hervenn nîn?" Galadriel looked puzzled.
"I had a wonderful time with Thranduil's little Princess." He grinned. "The child is every bit as powerful as you are, Meleth nîn, and could charm a Warg into sitting up and doing tricks."
Daeron smiled and shook his head. "You have no idea, My Lord. I wish you could see her with Dáin Ironfoot!"
"The Dwarf-King?" Galadriel was incredulous. "Does he not have a particular reputation for ferocity?"
"He does, and it is well-earned, My Lady; do not doubt it." The Guard smirked. "But the King Under the Mountain is but putty in her hands."
"That I would very much like to see." Galadriel laughed.
"I would, as well." Celeborn agreed. "Though after my encounter with her, I am not surprised. Oh! I have been asked to relay an important message, on behalf of Lady Tilda. This is for you," Celeborn kissed his wife's cheek, and said merrily, "'Thanks, Gallerdil!'"
"Do you need anything else, My Lord and Lady?" Daeron asked politely.
Galadriel looked at him thoughtfully. "We require nothing more, but perhaps I can do something for you."
She reached down, and lightly touched the water again, and the scene changed in the Mirror. It was the Great Hall in Dale, and there was Hilda, sitting with Percy at one of the tables. They were talking to Ben, and little Darryn was in his lap, sleeping soundly.
"Oh…. He has grown…" Daeron's hand went to his own chest, as he let out a small sob of relief. It was one thing for The Lady to tell him the little boy was fine, but seeing it for himself lifted the weight on his shoulders considerably.
"He must have been so frightened… You are sure he was not hurt?" he instinctively reached for the boy, but Galadriel stopped him, with a hand on his wrist.
"No! Focus, Mellon, then touch the water lightly."
Daeron took a deep breath. Gi melin, ion vuin…. Then he extended his forefinger and gave the water a feather-light touch.
…Darryn stirred, lifted his head from Ben's shoulder and blinked a few times.
"What's the matter, lovey?" Hilda leaned over rubbed his back.
Darryn pointed upward and seemed to look right at Daeron. "Ada!" He said with a grin. "Ada!"
Everybody at the table looked to see where he was pointing, but saw nothing...
"It's just a dream, Little Man," Ben spoke softly. "Go back to sleep, while we wait for your Mam."
Darryn lowered his hand, and laid his head on Ben's shoulder and put his thumb in his mouth. Within seconds, he was once again asleep.
Galadriel leaned down, blew on the water, and the ripples changed the scene to the woods once more. The rescue party was getting ready to return to Dale.
Rhian was talking with Hannah, and holding the hand of a black-haired little boy, as they made ready to put him on a horse in front of Ruvyn.
"Come on, sweetheart," she said. "Up you go, and we'll get you back to your Mam, all right?"
"Okay," the little boy said, shyly. He looked up at Ruvyn. "Thank you for helping us. I'm sorry about your arm, though."
"Please do not worry. The Healer took care of it, and I will be fine. Are you ready?"
"Aye. I want to go home."
Rhian smiled at the boy and turned toward the horse she was going to ride…
Daeron touched the water lightly just as before, and tried to send her as much love as he could manage from that tiny gesture…
Rhian gasped, stopped suddenly, and looked around.
"Are you well, Rhian?" Turamarth came over and asked her.
"I'm fine, but…"
"Yes?"
"I just…" she touched her lips, then looked skyward, "it feels like someone just kissed me, but there wasn't anybody there."
Turamarth smiled and shrugged. "It was not me. Come; let us get you back to your family."
Rhian touched her lips again, then smiled, as Tur gave her a boost, then mounted up behind her and took the reins.
"Thank you, My Lady," He said softly. "This…. means a great deal to me." His throat tightened painfully, and he had difficulty swallowing.
Galadriel gave him a thoughtful look, and repeated part of the message she had sent a year ago. "'That which you seek, seeks you also.'"2
Daeron's heart began to pound, "My Lady, can you tell me what that means? I want to hope, but I am too afraid…"
She came over put her hand on his cheek. "Let your heart be at peace, Daeron, son of Adamar. You will find each other soon."
A tear of relief fell from his eyes. "Thank you." He took her hand and kissed it. "Le vilui, Brennil Vell."
"Go now, Lieutenant. Get some rest. It has been a long and tiring night for all of us, but a job well done."
Daeron tried to speak, but couldn't, so he nodded, and with a salute, left the Garden.
Celeborn watched the Guardian leave. "He is a worthy and gifted Elf. I can see why he has been so favored by the Valar."
"It is not hard to understand what Thranduil sees in him." Galadriel dumped out the water from her Mirror into a flower bed nearby. "Come, Meleth nîn; I am fatigued beyond description."
Celeborn took the bowl from her and put it back on the plinth. "I'm proud of you, Hervess nîn. You're still not quite recovered from your efforts at Dol Guldur, yet you were still willing to help my cousin and his family. Thank you." He took her in his arms and kissed her. "I love you, very much."
"I love you, my husband."
"Meleth nin, how damaged was the child's heart?"
Galadriel sighed. "There was very little that we did not have to rebuild."
"I wonder," Celeborn mused, "do you think the Light of Eärendil might bestow any other blessings upon her?"
"Who can say? Only time will tell. In the meantime, she will simply enjoy her new life."
"And talk her Ada's ear off, I have no doubt." Celeborn laughed. "That child has a lot to say."
He put her hand in the crook of his arm, and they made their way through the walkways back to their talon, where the lamps were lit, ready for their return. Caras Galadhon was always beautiful at night, but when the moon was full, and sky was clear, it was breathtaking.
"Galadriel?"
"Yes, Meleth?"
"I have to ask: Why did you not tell Daeron the full meaning of the prophecy?"
She gave Celeborn a mischievous smile. "Whatever do you mean, dearest?"
He crooked one eyebrow at her. "Do not be coy with me. You know very well what I mean. Why did you not tell him the rest?"
She stopped on the walkway and stood on tiptoe and kissed him softly. "Because that, Hervenn nîn, is a joy he should discover for himself." She gave him a radiant smile. "Would it not be better as a surprise?"
Celeborn chuckled and tenderly lifted a strand of golden hair from her face. "I believe you are right. We could consider it a…wedding gift?" Now come, My Lady, and let us go to bed; we might even get some sleep…" He winked at her. "Later."
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Mae de 'ovannen, Hîr Nîn. – Well met, My Lord.
Mae de 'ovannen, Riel Tithen – Well met, Little Princess.
Gwennig – My little maid
Nan aear adh in elin! Elo! – By the sea and stars! Wow!
Gi melin, ion vuin – I love you, beloved boy.
Le vilui, Brennil Vell – Thank you, Beloved Lady
Hervess nîn – My Wife
Hervenn nîn – My husband
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NOTES:
[1] Fëanor's spirit remained in the Halls of Mandos and was not reincarnated in Valinor. It is said that he will return only for Dagor Dagorath, and will finally reclaim his beloved Silmarils, and then surrender them to Yavanna: /wiki/Feanor
[2] An Invincible Summer, Ch. 9: /works/14127870/chapters/33615999
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