Chapter Forty-Four
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SUMMARY: It's "The Morning After the Night Before," and many have questions about their experience during the Silent Vigil before the "Gates of Summer."
Sigrid has questions, Bard has questions, Rhian has important questions, and…
…a certain Elven Prince, currently wandering around with the Dúnedain, has questions, but is given some answers as well…
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"I was made and meant to look for you and wait for you and become yours forever."
― Robert Browning
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Just outside of Bree, 21st of June (Early Hours of the Morning)
The Elf's time among the Dunedáin had opened his eyes to vastness of Middle Earth, and its varied cultures. All the history lessons Galion forced him to sit through as a child, came to life in a way he'd never dreamed, as he traveled through these lands. Galion's voice ran through his mind frequently and now he was glad for the frequent admonishments to sit still, and pay attention.
On the Eve of Tarnin Austa this year, Halboran and the other Rangers were enjoying a rare rest in the beds of the Prancing Pony, but the Elf known in the wild as "Beleg" was not with them. He'd wandered several miles into the woods beyond the lights and noise of the town, and found a small clearing with an unimpeded view of the sky. He removed his cloak, and spread it on the grass, and laid down, with his hands behind his head with a sigh.
He closed his eyes, and repeated the prayers he had heard all his life at Tarnin Austa,[1] then, alone in this forest, his Silent Vigil began.
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He wasn't alone. There was another presence, and he opened his eyes again.
An Elleth stood before him, with long, dark wavy hair, looking down on him with dark, velvet-soft eyes.
"Am I disturbing you, Legolas Thranduillion?"
"How do you know my name?" he asked nervously, as sat up with his hand automatically reached for his dagger. "It is secret."
"Be at ease, My Prince; no one can hear us," She smiled down at him. "You have grown into a strong and worthy Elf, and I am proud of you."
"Do you know me?"
"I do." The Elleth's soft laugh was full of familiar warmth, though he didn't remember seeing her before. "As I recall, you were an active and mischievous Elfling, who enjoyed running, and stories and hugs and the end of the day."
He hated to be rude, but he had to admit the truth. "I am sorry, My Lady, but I do not remember you. Did you move away from the Palace?"
"In a manner of speaking." Her lips curled upward in an enigmatic smile. "May I sit with you?"
He nodded dumbly, and shuffled over on his cloak to make room for her to sit.
"So," he said.
"So," she seemed amused. "Tell me; do you have any memories of your mother, Legolas?"
"No," he couldn't stop the bitterness from his voice. "My father wanted to pretend she never existed, especially to me."
"Legolas," she placed her hand over his, "I promise you, that was not the reason. Tell me, hênig: What do you remember about your mother?"
He searched himself and vague recollections began to surface. "I remember warm arms, holding me tightly to her chest. She smelled of lilies, and had the softest cheeks, and beautiful hands—"
She squeezed his fingers. "Like my hand?"
He was silent for a few moments, as he studied her long, smooth fingers. "Yes," he whispered, nervously. He looked away, and stared at the edge of his cloak.
"Do you remember her hair?" she asked.
"It was dark…" he closed his eyes shook his head. "No; I am sorry, but this is not—"
"Legolas, Ionneg, look at me, please."
Slowly he opened them again, turned his head, but didn't meet her eyes.
"I used to sing to you," she smiled. "Do you remember this?" The Elleth began a simple children's counting song, about animals in the forest.
As Legolas listened, the memory of his mother's voice rushed to the surface of his mind. His throat tightened, and his vision clouded with tears.
"Nana?" his rasped. "You are Nana…" Instinctively, he reached for her, and felt the same warm embrace from his long-hidden past. She held him tight for several minutes, as he breathed her in.
"How can this be?" he pulled back, and stared into her face.
"It is no trick," she smiled. "This is the night of the Elenion Panilwë. When the stars are aligned thus, on the Eve of Summer, remarkable things can happen, if the sky is clear, and one's heart is pure. Did not Galion teach you all this? I had assumed he tutored you, as he did your father."
"He did, but I did not like to do my lessons," he admitted. "I hated to sit still for hours like that."
At this, the woman laughed. "That has not changed! The moment you learned to walk, you were hardly ever still. You rushed through your days, until you collapsed in your bed at night! Your Ada and I used to chase you all over the Palace, and play hiding games with you."
"Ada never chased me." Legolas shook his head, and he couldn't keep the bitter tone from his voice. "He hated me, because I looked like…" he looked down at his lap. "After my mother – you – died, he did not want me anymore."
"Oh, my son; that is not the reason at all. Your father was struggling with things you never knew about, things that had nothing to do with you."
"But he took down all your portraits, and I have never seen them! He would not speak of you, and no one at the Palace ever said your name! His teeth clenched in fury, "He robbed me of any memory I could have! You became nothing more than a shadow, a thought, with no face, no voice, nothing!"
"You are correct," she said quietly, "and that was unfair to you—"
"You are right; it was not!" He couldn't help his fury. "I lost my mother, but after you died, he…" his breath caught, "my father left me, too! I lost both my parents that day, and losing my Ada was even worse than losing you, because he left me by choice!"
The Elleth grabbed his hand, "I am very sorry for your pain, hênig."
"My pain?" He couldn't help his anger, as the emotions welled up inside of him. "I was an orphan, do you understand? An orphan with a living, breathing father who could not stand the sight of me, who could not stand to be in my presence for more than a few minutes, before he turned away! It was you, he loved, Nana, not me! Never me!" the tears fell from his eyes, and off his chin. "He never wanted me; why wasn't I worth anything to him?"
"Oh, Ionneg," she reached for him, and held against her bosom. "Open your heart, and let it all out. Weep for the pain and loneliness, if you can, and free yourself from it."
Legolas didn't want to cry, but her arms felt warm and strong, and for the first time since he could remember, he felt like he…belonged to someone. His breaths came out in short, shallow gasps, then turned to sobs, and the poisonous wound of loss, deep grief began to flow from him, and he couldn't stop.
And she was patient, and murmured to him and kissed his hair. Her touch soothed him like nothing had before, and at last he realized that her words were true: this Elleth was indeed Mírelen, his mother, and it only made him hug her tight and cry that much harder.
He had no idea how long they'd been like this, but she did not seem to mind holding him, and he found he didn't want to let go. Finally, his breathing became regular and he laid his head on her shoulder and was silent for several minutes after he calmed down. His eyes were closed, and his heart was lighter than it had been in a very long time.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"I am glad to help you," she stroked his hair. "It is a joy to hold you again, Ion nîn."
"I have missed you, Nana. Always, there is a hole in my heart, where you used to be."
"I know. I love you very much, Legolas. I have always loved you, more than anything."
"'More than life,'" he whispered.
She pulled back, and kissed his forehead. "That is true also." She smiled at him. "Those were your father's parting words to you."
Legolas nodded. "He said it to make me feel guilty."
"That is not so, Ion nîn." Mírelen looked into his eyes. "Your father did not want to lose you. The day of the Battle pulled the scales from his eyes, and at last, his heart became unchained. You were right to confront him, Legolas, and though you did not intend it, your sharp words helped him. Thranduil saw what he had become in your eyes, and he wept for hours over it. He loves you, my son; he always did."
"No." He shook his head angrily. "My father is nothing but a cold, unfeeling—"
"He was an Ellon, whose fëa had been torn in half, do you not see that? It took everything for him to keep from fading, Legolas! The day I was killed broke him, and yet he kept his promise to me, and did not fade! Has anyone spoken to you of that day?"
"You were killed by Orcs; that is all I know."
His mother studied him closely. "I will not speak just now of that day, nor will I tell you of the things haunting your Adar since before I knew him. What I will tell you is that he is happy again at last, and I rejoice for him."
"But how can Ada do that to you? To your memory? He has forgotten about you, Nana!"
"He has done no such thing! Your Adar suffered greatly to stay with you and his people, and grief had turned him into a living, breathing ghost. It was I who petitioned the Valar, to release him from our bond. As soon as I was released from the Halls of Waiting, I demanded that they help him."
"Why would you do this? He married a Mortal, Naneth! Bard will die, and he will once again be locked in grief! And when he sails to Aman, what will become of the two of you?"
"My son, there are many things you do not understand yet, but as your mother, I ask that you trust me. Your Adar has my full blessing in his marriage to Bard, as does the Valar. The King of Dale brings him joy, and his wounds, which are deeper than you know, have truly been healed."
"How could Bard succeed, where I did not? Why wasn't I enough to help him be happy?"
"You did disappoint anyone, Ionneg. Thranduil knows he failed you, and whether you forgive him or not, he suffer from regret until Arda is no more." She ran her fingers over his brow, and tucked his hair behind one ear. "I hope in time, you can choose forgiveness, for that will be the only thing that can heal your heart, beloved. For now, just consider my words." She smiled gently. "I need to speak to you about Tauriel, Ion nîn."
He immediately became tense. "I have tried to avoid thinking about her," he admitted quietly.
"I want you to search your feelings carefully, if you would. Do you still love her? Truly?"
Legolas took a deep breath, and considered her words. "I do not think I know." He finally whispered. "My feelings for her are strong…"
"She relied on you, just as much as she did Thranduil, when she lost not only her home, and but both her parents. Then she fell in love, and not only had watched him die, but she feels like drove away her oldest and dearest friend. She, too, knows what it is like to feel abandoned and alone, do not forget that."
Legolas sighed, and looked down in shame. "I know. Is she all right, now?"
"She will be. The Dwarves have named her Friend, and your new family care a great deal for her."
"It is not my 'new family,'" he muttered, "It is Ada's."
"Legolas!" His mother's reprimand was sharp. "They are all your family, now, and you must remember that! Feel the hurt, yes, but only do so to work it through! Do not be a coward, and fall into the pit of self-pity, for that is not who you are!"
His eyes widened at the vehemence of her rebuke, and he felt deeply ashamed. "I am sorry, Nana. I am sorry."
She studied his face. "I think the healing has begun this night, but you must seek further guidance."She stroked his cheek with her thumb. "Your Chieftain plans a trip to Rivendell this winter?"
"He does. I have never been, and am anxious to see it."
"Your time of seeking distraction is done, for a while, at least. Now it is time to find peace for the turmoil in your heart." She smiled wistfully. "Rivendell is a wondrous place, Ion nîn!" I was born and raised there, and you will find many who knew my family, and will be happy to tell you stories. You will also meet the one your Adar spoke of."
"'Strider?'"
"Yes. He is hidden from the world for his own safety, and you must call him by his adopted name, until such time as Lord Elrond deems it wise to reveal the truth to him. Be his friend, his protector, his confidant, for Strider will rely on your loyalty and support more than you can imagine. You must not allow him to lose hope! Do you promise to do this, my son?"
He leaned into her touch. "I promise, Naneth."
"Lord Elrond has been given something to keep for you, and he will present it to you when he deems the time is right. This gift will help you, but only if your heart is open, and can accept it in the spirit with which it was given."
Her eyes misted. "We will not meet again until you sail into the West, my dearest son, and you have much to do until then."
"What is it like, Nana?"
She smiled. "You will find out for yourself one day, and I will be waiting on the Shores, to greet you. I am also to tell you that when the time comes, do not hesitate to invite your friend to come with you."
"Pardon?"
She chuckled. "My words will have meaning, one day, so keep them close, and do not forget them." She got to her feet. "I am sorry, dearest, but I must go."
"No… please… stay with me," he pleaded, as he stood. "You cannot leave me, now!"
"I never left you, Legolas. Every time the wind would lift your hair, and you would feel a cheek tingle, that was me kissing you." She stroked his cheek, gave him a reassuring smile. "And when you feel it again, think of me watching over you, and praying for you, and it will bring you comfort.
"You will face many perils, Ion nîn, and must be brave. You must continue to use the name "Beleg" in your travels, and do not utter your true name aloud, outside the borders of Rivendell or the Golden Wood. There will come a time when your true name will be a part of something greater than you can imagine, and then be bold with it, and use your position as Prince and heir. Trust Lord Elrond, and follow his counsel in all things, for he is among with wisest in all of Middle Earth. Do you promise this?"
"I do, Naneth."
She threw her arms around him, and held him tight. "I love you more than you can know, my beautiful son, and I promise you; your Ada loves you just as much," she whispered. "Forgive him, Legolas, for only then will your heart be whole."
"I will…try."
She kissed both his cheeks. "Now, close your eyes."
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He did, and when he opened them, the sunrise was just peeking through the clouds, and his face was wet with tears, which continued to flow for a very long time.
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City of Dale, 21st of June 2943 T.A.
The all-night Vigil didn't leave the Kings tired throughout the next day, but there was no question they were ready for bed that night.
"I'm glad we did the Vigil, love." Bard crawled into bed beside him that night. "We'll have to do that every summer, from now on."
"I would like that." The Elvenking gave a happy sigh, as he settled in Bard's arms. "I have wanted to see the Elenion Panilwë since I was a child."
"Was it everything you expected?"
"Yes," he grinned. "I…" he began, then stopped. "Do you wish to speak of what we saw, Bard? We do not have to, if you are uncomfortable."
"I'd love to with you, but I don't want to tell everybody else. It's so…"
"Private?"
"That's it. I feel like I want to keep it close; does that sound silly?"
"Not at all. These are treasures to keep in our hearts, Meleth nîn." He took Bard's hand and kissed his palm. "I saw my father, Oropher."
"Really? Me, too!"
"You saw Oropher as well?"
"No," Bard chuckled, "I mean, my own Da."
"Would you like to tell me about it? Only as much as you want, of course."
Thranduil listened to his husband describe the encounter in his soft, husky voice with a smile. "I am happy for you, Hervenn nîn. I am also happy your father likes me."
"It'd be awkward if he came to yell at me, wouldn't it? But he knows I chose rightly." Bard became pensive. "That's the last I'll ever hear from my family, like that. I never expected any of it, but it's hard not to feel sad."
"We will never see another Elenion Panilwë, Bard, at least on Middle Earth. The time of the Elves on Middle Earth is near its end, Meleth, for good or ill."
Bard lifted his head and looked concerned. "Did you father say something about that?"
"Yes. All the Elven Lords on Middle Earth have been sent news, as well as a warning, but I cannot speak of it, just yet."
"A warning? Should I be worried?"
"No. Not for as long as you or Bain are King of Dale. How long after that, I do not know, but when I can, I will tell you everything, I promise. Do you trust me?"
"Of course, I do, love. Anything you need." He kissed Thranduil's head. "So… other than that, what does my father-in-law think of me?
Thranduil smirked. "He thinks you are too hairy, and you curse entirely too much, but at least you do not fart in the bathtub, like I did as an elfling."
"He didn't say that!" Bard tugged his hair. "Did he?"
"No, the Elf chuckled, and jabbed him with his elbow. "Ada and Naneth like you and the children, and they are happy for me."
"Maybe Mírelen put in a good word for me."
"I am sure she did." The Elf rubbed slow circles on Bard's chest. "He did have a few things to say about our Tilda."
"Really? Good things, I hope."
"The best. Galadriel used some…extraordinary magic to heal our daughter, and it could mean something for her."
"Extraordinary how, exactly, and what would that mean?" A wary tone entered Bard's voice. "They don't… expect anything from her, do they? She's just a little girl…"
"No. In fact, I am instructed to make sure she enjoys a typical childhood. What Ada meant was that no one can say how this will benefit her, or even if it will, but without it, she would be dead. Galadriel possessed a phial, which contains some of the Light of Eärendil, and she used its to save her, Meleth nîn."
"Eärendil? You mean, like the star? My child was healed with one of those…?"
"To be precise, she was healed with the light from a Silmaril, which Eärendil sails across the sky in his ship."
"What?" Bard sat up so fast, Thranduil tumbled out of his arms. "Thranduil! All I've ever heard about those damned things was horrible! Even you wouldn't touch the Arkenstone, for fear it might be like them! And now you tell me that that…power is… could be inside our eight-year-old daughter?"
"No! I am not saying that at all! I know this might frighten you a bit—"
"It frightens me a lot, Thranduil!" Bard ran his fingers through his hair. "That first winter, you sent me books full of stories of the madness for those fucking things! Of course, I'm afraid! Don't get me wrong; I'm grateful Tilda is well—"
"She would be dead, Bard! From what Ermon and I have seen, she has the equivalent of a brand-new heart and lungs. No Elf, not even Elrond or Galadriel, could do that alone!"
"But the Silmarils—"
"Galadriel does not possess one, she merely has…a minuscule portion of its light, which is not the same thing."
"How do you know that? Where did she get this… 'light?'" Bard demanded.
"She has a fountain, in her private Garden, Bard, and it's magic is powerful. She uses its waters to help her 'see' things, and Eärendil's star shone brightly onto those same waters, and she captured it in a special glass vial. I promise, it is used for nothing but good." Thranduil cupped Bard's cheek. "Galadriel and Celeborn would never cause harm to me or my family. Can you trust me about that?"
"I'll try." Bard sighed and looked sheepish. "I'm sorry, love. This is still new to me, and Tilda is our baby, you know?"
Thranduil eased his Bowman back down, and put Bard's head on his shoulder. "I understand that, Meleth nîn. Please also remember that Daeron was with the Lord and Lady, and we both know he would give his life to protect her."
"You're right." Bard sighed, as the Elvenking rubbed his back and shoulder. "I don't trust Galadriel and Celeborn, only because I don't know them. But I do trust Daeron and I trust you, and if you tell me our Little Bean is fine, then I'll believe that, too."
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City of Dale, 22nd of June 2943 T.A.
"Da? Can I talk to you?"
Bard was in his study, with his boots propped up on the desk, and his chin resting on his hand. He shook himself and looked up, to see his oldest daughter standing in the doorway, watching him. "Hmm?" he asked absently.
"I need to talk to you. Do you have time?"
"I do for you. What's on your mind?"
She smiled. "You know Auntie Hil hates it when you put your feet up like that."
He quickly lowered them to the floor and motioned for her to come in. "I know. I was just…"
"…thinking?"
"Aye, but never mind about me. What's up?"
"About the Vigil," she began, "I know you'll think I'm crazy, but it was..." she hesitated, "the only word I can come up with is…huge."
"Did something frighten you?"
"No, nothing like that. I… well, somebody came to talk to me, and I don't know if it was real, or if it was a dream, or what to even think about it."
"Can you tell me about it? You don't have to, but might help."
"Well, I saw – well I think I saw - my grandmother, the one I was named after? At least that's who she said she was, but I don't know if I can believe it."
Bard's eyes widened. "My mother, Sigrid?"
"Aye. She was older, and a lot shorter than me, and her hair was a darker shade of brown than mine. She looked like Tilda, only her eyes were brown, not blue."
"Well, that's because Tilda got her eyes from her Mam, like you did. She sounds like your Gran, all right." He enjoyed the rush of nostalgia at the memory.
"But how do I know I wasn't just dreaming?" Sigrid's face was worried. "You and Auntie Hil always told me what she looked like, so it could just be my own memories playing tricks on me. I mean, I want to believe this, but…" she fidgeted with her fingers, "I just can't. Not yet, anyway."
"That's fair enough. Would you want to tell me what you talked about?"
Sigrid blew out a breath, "She told me she and Granddad are proud of all of us, and she likes Ada and Tauriel, too. She also said I would serve my people as a Healer and a Wise-woman, whatever that is."
"As I understand it, a Wise-woman is someone who is an expert in the history and lore of her people. You've always enjoyed that, so it wouldn't surprise me."
"Me either, but I can't see how that would be so important."
"It's very important, love. One day, Bain will be King, and he'll need someone he completely trusts to advise him, Sigrid. He'll need to know about of mistakes made in the past, so he won't repeat them, of things that worked and things that didn't. Bain won't have time to look up all of that, and he'll need to know the truth of things. Your brother will need someone, to keep him grounded when he gets too full of himself, and to build him up when he feels inadequate. Your position as a Princess, which will give you the power to call out anyone who would try to manipulate him."
"So…if this is real, that would be good news?"
"The best." Bard grinned. "Who knows? Maybe you had this vision to prompt you into studying history more. Either way, you all would benefit when I'm gone, and I'd feel a lot better about it."
"But Da, it's not like you'll be dead, you'll just be with Ada, so…"
"That's true, love, but I won't be Dale's Ruler anymore, and I can't undermine Bain's reign by hovering. If he comes to me for help, and if need is great, then yes, I will help, but otherwise, it will be your time."
"But what will you do, after?"
"I'm not sure, but Ada and I will figure that out later." Bard studied his daughter. "Are you all right?"
"Aye… It's all so… mysterious, you know?"
"Oh, believe me, I'm still trying to get my head around it."
"Do you think it was real, Da?" She asked him. "Be honest."
Bard considered this carefully, before he answered. "It's true that when I spoke with your Granddad, he didn't tell me anything new, just that I was on the right path. I've got no real proof to give you, Sigrid, but seeing my Da, and listening to him say how proud he was of all I've been doing…" He smiled, as his throat tightened, and he spoke with a rougher voice, "I'll carry that will me for all my days. I have faith in it."
Sigrid was silent for a minute, as she considered all this. "I think that's a good way to look at it. Maybe it doesn't matter if it's real or not, just what we think about it."
"Exactly! See?" Bard smirked at his daughter. "You're a Wise-woman already."
She laughed. "So, you saw Granddad? He looked happy?"
"He did. And your Granny did, too?" Bard asked, and Sigrid nodded yes. "It's nice to think they watched over us all those years, isn't it?"
"Aye… She did say something else, but I was so flabbergasted at seeing her, I forgot to ask about it. Maybe you know…"
"Ask away, Sig."
"Who is Jenny?"
Bard froze. "What did you say?"
"She said to tell you 'Jenny' sends her love?"
Bard's eyes blinked, and covered his mouth as a long-past memory rushed to the forefront of his mind.
"Da? What is it?"
"Sigrid, Jenny is my older sister. She died when she was a year old, before I was even born. There was something wrong with her heart, and she… Oh, stars…" He was stunned.
"How did you know about her?"
"Da showed me a little ribbon, with her name embroidered on it, just after Mam died. I was only eleven, and having a hard time with her death, but he showed it to me, and said Mam wouldn't be alone, because my sister, and the other baby she lost, would look after her. When your Granddad died, I put the ribbon in his hand..." He blew out a breath, then looked over at Sigrid. "I never told you about Jenny; I'm sure I didn't."
"Why not?"
Bard felt ashamed. "It wasn't done on purpose, love. Da only spoke of her and that child she miscarried only once. Then I was so busy scraping out a living in Laketown to think about things like that. After that I got married and you kids kept us both busy, and after I lost your Mam, and I just tried to keep going. Your Auntie Hil could tell you more about it, if you want to know."
"So, this…really happened? I really did see Gran?" Sigrid's eyes were like saucers.
"Looks that way, love." Still choked up, Bard got up and hugged his daughter close. "I'm so glad you told me this," he kissed her hair.
"Me, too." She whispered. "I feel like everything is different, because Gran's real, now. Does that make sense?"
"It makes perfect sense." He smiled into her hair.
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City of Dale, 24th of June 2943 T.A.
"Hello, Rhian! What can I do for you, today?"
"My Lord, May I talk to you?"
The young woman entered Thranduil's study, looking uncertain, and something was clearly on her mind.
"Is something troubling you, hênig?" The Elvenking asked with concern.
"Well, I'm wondering about something that happened the other night, and I don't know what to make of it."
"Would you like to sit down?" he offered her the seat in front of his desk. "Galion has gone on an errand—"
"Would it be possible to speak somewhere private?" Her green eyes pleaded with him. "It's rather personal, and I haven't told anyone…"
"I see." he quickly put his pen away and the stopper back into the ink. "We can go into my chambers and we will not be disturbed." He got up, walked around his desk and put his hand on the small of her back to guide her down the Corridor.
On his way, he peeked into Bard's study, to find him hovering over some papers with Percy. "Meleth nîn? Rhian and I need to have a private conference, and we will be using our room, if that is all right."
"Sure thing, love. Morning, Rhian!" He gave her a friendly wave, which she returned.
He spoke to Greta, the housekeeper, who was standing nearby. "Could you please bring a tray with refreshments to my chambers, then see to it Lady Rhian and I are not disturbed?"
"Yes, My Lord."
Once settled in the two stuffed chairs in front of their fireplace, the Elvenking tried to ease her obvious anxiety with small talk. "How is that little boy of yours?"
"He's fine. Hannah's daughter-in-law has him at the moment. He gets spoiled rotten over there."
"Your son is easy to spoil," Thranduil grinned. "How are things at the house? Are you comfortable?"
"Oh, yes; we're almost back to normal, I suppose." She chuckled. "Da and Hannah are spending a lot of time together, did you know?"
"If the smile on your father's face is any indication, I would say it has been good for him. Do you think it is serious?"
"I hope so," she told him. "I love them both, and they deserve to be happy."
"I agree—Ah! Here we are… Thank you, Greta." The housekeeper came in with a tray of tea and cakes, and set it down on the table beside the Elvenking. After a smile and a curtsy, she left, closing the door behind her.
"I'll be 'Mother.'" Rhian stood and poured out the tea, then handed the Elf a cup.
"Thank you," he took a drink, and waited patiently for her to settle down, and tell him the reason she wanted to talk to him.
"My Lord—"
"Just Thranduil, please. Bard and I have a strict rule against 'Kinging' in this room. Here, I am simply your friend, as you are mine. Now, what can I help you with, child?"
She took a deep breath. "You are an Elf that married a human, so I know that it happens…"
"It does."
"But Elves have all these gifts, and so many things a human doesn't have. What would an Elf see in one of us? Bard is a King, so he's different, but what about somebody plain, and ordinary?"
"I happen to know a little about loving humans," He smirked, "and I can assure you, it is very rewarding, and has nothing to do with the fact that Bard is a King. Forgive me, but are you not spending time with Evan, Alun's Assistant?"
"He and I have parted ways," she told him.
"Did something happen?" Thranduil couldn't help the rush of fatherly concern. "Was he unkind, or—"
"Oh, no! Nothing like that, at all. We both realized that we'll always be friends, but nothing more. I mean, he's great, but I just don't love him, and he doesn't either."
"I see."
"I've… I think I'm in love someone else, but I really don't know what to do about it, or even if I can." Rhian fiddled with the spoon on her saucer. "I don't know if he loves me back, or if he just sees me as a friend." She looked at him with her deep, green eyes. "I don't know how it works with Elves, and I… was hoping you could tell me?"
The Elvenking sat back, set his cup down and crossed his legs. "I can tell you that Elves often experience something we call 'Ehtë Raumo,' when we first see our bond-mates. It is like a lightning bolt, and is very powerful. I felt it when I first saw my wife, in Rivendell, and loved her deeply." He chuckled. "It does not always happen, though. She did not like me, at first, but I won her over."
"May I ask if it was like that with Bard?"
"No. I had met him several years before, but he had just lost his Mattie, and could not see beyond his own pain. I had compassion for him, of course, and I did like him, but once we met again in Dale, things were different." His mouth curled up in a mischievous smile. "Now, Turamarth's parents were struck with the 'thunderbolt' when they first saw each other. Indis nearly fainted, and Ómar fell from his horse, which is especially embarrassing for an Elf!"
"Oh, no…" Rhian giggled.
"We teased him for many years, about it." Thranduil chortled. "You should ask Indis about it, sometime."
"And they're still in love?"
"Oh, yes. Rhian, Elves never marry for any other reason than love. We do not have political matches, or loveless unions; we are not made for such things. In addition, the actual marriage for Elvenkind does not actually take place at the ceremony."
"It doesn't?"
"No. An Elven marriage is the actual joining of two fëas, or souls, which can only take place at the consummation. It is one of the most powerful things in our lives, and that is why a widowed spouse can fade from grief, because the Rista-Goel, the Terrible Severing, of the fëas is agony, and leaves an emptiness which can hardly be borne."
"That's horrible!" Rhian cried. "I mean, I'm sorry to say that, but that's just cruel!"
"You may be right, but we have been given hope, hênig. Things have recently changed for our people, to ease our grief. I am living proof of this, because now, I can relish my wife's memory without suffering, and that also brings me joy."
Thranduil studied the young woman carefully. "Has something occurred, to make you so curious about these things?"
Rhian slowly nodded, and he could sense her inner struggle. "Aye. I mean, I think so..." She took a deep breath and blurted out her dilemma. "I realized I was in love with somebody. Maybe I've always loved him, but I was so mixed up from things to make sense of much—"
"Perhaps you were not ready, child." Thranduil was beginning to understand where this was headed, but remain cautious. "It was wise to take the time to heal yourself, do you not think?"
She nodded. "I think so, too. But at the Vigil, I…saw him, and I don't know if any of it was real. I want it to be, but…" She rolled her eyes. "You know about these things, and about Elves and how different things are, and I thought maybe you could help me find out if I'm just being a silly fool, or—"
"Rhian, what does your heart tell you?" He asked gently. "I think you know the truth of what you experienced; you just need to find the courage to face it." He tilted his head and gave her an encouraging smile. "But I am not concerned; you are one of the bravest women I know."
"Thank you," she blushed, shyly.
"I can also promise that, while some things are different, love is love, and that is the same for both genders of all races. How do you feel, hênig?"
"I feel like something inside me has…burst, and now he's all I think about! I don't know what to do, or even if he loves me back! What if he doesn't see me as anything but a friend?"
Thranduil regarded her carefully. "Is the Elf in question residing in Dale, at present?"
"N-no… He's not." She admitted. "He's in Lothlórien""
The Elvenking felt the excitement grow, but needed to be absolutely sure. "Is it Daeron?"
"Yes, but I don't know if he—"
"Rhian! This wonderful news!"
"But how do you know that? I could have dreamed all of this, and he may not think of me that way!" She threw her hands up and began to cry. "What if he doesn't want me?"
He was off the chair, and on one knee before her in an instant. "Rhian," he smiled and took her hand, "allow me to tell you of a conversation Daeron and I had, back when you were all staying at the Palace..."
Then he told her the truth.
And she cried even harder, but this time with happiness.
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Hênig – My child
Ion nîn – My son
Elenion Panilwë Húmë – (Q.) "Walk among the Stars" is a special alignment of the stars and planets, which only happens on Tarnin Austa once every thousand years. Legends say that if the skies are clear on this night, the veil between worlds can be lifted for a time, but only for those whose hearts are filled with goodness.
Ehtë Raumo – (Q.) Lightning Bolt (lit. "Storm Spear") Sometimes, when an Elf first encounters his or her bond-mate, they can feel a powerful, emotional response, like lightning.
Rista-Goel - "Terrible Severing," when a bond-mate dies and their fëa is summoned to the Halls of Mandos. Often a spouse fades from the agony, but even if they live, they are but a shell of their former selves.
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NOTES:
"Tarnin Austa (meaning "Gates of Summer") was held on the first day of summer. It was custom to begin a solemn ceremony at midnight, continuing it until dawn of Tarnin Austa. No-one could speak from midnight to daybreak, but upon the rising of the Sun they would burst into ancient songs, with choirs standing upon the eastern wall. At that time the city was filled with silver lamps, and lights of jeweled colors hung on the branches of the new-leaved trees." - J.R.R. Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien (ed.), The Book of Lost Tales Part Two, pp. 172, 211, 347
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