Chapter Forty-Five
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SUMMARY: The day has finally come! The King of Harad (the real one, honest!) has come with his entourage to collect the children...
...and one of them has a surprise for King Abdullon and his family.
We're stepping away from Daeron and Rhian for a little bit, to make sure these refugees get home safely, but their romance will be back soon, I promise!
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"However, I've learned that the heart can't be told when and who and how it should love. The heart does whatever the hell it wants to do. The only thing we can control is whether we give our lives and our minds the chance to catch up to our hearts."
-Colleen Hoover, Maybe Someday
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City of Dale; 30th of June, 2943 T.A.
After the attack from Jarod and his gang, the preparations for the arrival of the King of Harad was a comfort and a distraction, that helped everyone in the City to get back on track. Many still struggled to recover from the betrayal and attack from The Boss, "Jarod" and his men, and they assuaged their guilt for trusting these monsters, by working hard to erase any hint of this treachery from the home they were all so proud of. They also wanted to give Harad children a fond farewell.
The message had arrived last week, that there would be just over fifty in the party, and would be staying in Dale for at least four days, to allow their horses to rest. Hilda was zooming around like a headless chicken.
"You don't need to, Hil. They said they'll be setting up their camp outside the North Gates."
"I know, I know, but I want them to see this place looking grand, Bard! We've got a lot to be proud of. Now, I'm off to speak with Innkeepers to make sure that they know what the Harad men like to eat and drink."
Greta and the rest of the household staff made an extra effort to scrub and polish the Great Hall and its dais, to wipe away the memories of the attack, and (though they did not speak of it) any memory of blood spilled there. When it looked like new, everyone silently reclaimed the building, and felt better.
The street crews, under Ben and Percy's watchful eye, had made sure the City looked bright and welcoming, and colorful banners were hung in the Marketplace. All the shops were displaying their best wares, behind spotless windows, above swept and scrubbed sidewalks.
Cook was busy searching for recipes that might appeal to their guests from Harad, and tried out different dishes on the Royal Family (who enjoyed it for the most part, but couldn't get Bain and Tilda try anything with chick peas in it, no matter how much he spiced it up).
Since Wynny's murder, Cook had been making a point to be courteous to all the Castle staff, and though it could hardly be believed, he and Greta were actually getting along! Everyone saw this as a good step, especially Hilda who was tired of trying to broker peace between them.
"If I didn't know better," Hilda said to Percy, when they were getting ready for bed one night, "I'd think they liked each other more than they want to admit."
"Oh, ho! Finally caught up, did you?" her husband grinned. "Cook's doing the same thing I did, when we first met."
"What in Mordor are you talking about?" She demanded. "back then. Gods it seemed like all I did was yell at you!"
"I know," Percy grinned, "You're so cute when you're mad. Hey!" He laughed and raised his arms, as she thumped him soundly with her pillow."
Finally, the day arrived, and thank the Valar, the sun was out. It had rained all week, which made the children antsy, because they weren't allowed to play in the Great Hall, and couldn't go outside.
Adila had returned to work after three weeks, and threw herself into the preparations to the point of mania, Indis had come to see the Kings a few days ago, out of concern.
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"My Lords, I fear that Mistress Adila will feel at loose ends after the children from Harad leave, and will suffer from that loss, too soon after losing her husband."
"Is there nothing that can be done for her?" Thranduil's brows furrowed. "Should I offer her and her children a place to stay at the Palace for a time?"
"You could, and she would benefit from the change of scenery for a while, but that will not solve her problem. She needs more than that, though I do not know what it could be. I simply wish to make you aware that we are watching out for her."
"Thanks, Indis. I appreciate it." Bard said. "How are her children?"
"Sad at the loss of their father, though they are happy to be back home. In a way, it is unfortunate that school is not in session, for the routine would help them. I am afraid they too, will be at a loss."
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In the end, there was little anyone could do but be mindful, at least until after the Haradhrim left. Hilda had promised to give her situation some thought, as soon as she had the chance.
The bells at the North Gate had been rung, signaling their approach, and Bard stood with his family on the dais of the Great Hall, and wasn't surprised to feel the butterflies in his stomach; the last time they anticipated the approach of the King of Harad, it had ended in…
No! Bard shook his head and tried to center himself. No more!
"Meleth nîn?" Thranduil was beside him, and took his hand.
"I'm just…" He sighed.
"…remembering?" The Elvenking squeezed his hand.
Bard nodded, as he winced. "Sorry."
"Do not be." Thranduil moved closer. "It is difficult not to think of before, but we are truly together and are safe; nothing will happen, Meleth."
"Gi melin, Thranduil" Bard whispered.
"And I love you." Thranduil squeezed his hand again, then turned to the children. "Are you all right?" he asked them.
"I'm fine," Sigrid nodded.
"Me, too." Bain said, from the other side of Bard.
Thranduil looked down at Tilda, who was holding his other hand. The little girl was looking increasingly nervous. "Tithen Pen? Are you well?"
"I don't know," she said in small voice.
The Elvenking made to pick her up, but Tilda suddenly dashed back into the building, and they could here her hurried footsteps, as she dashed through the Great Hall, and into the back. Thangon began to whine, and stood up from his place beside Bard, to follow the little girl.
"No, Thangon; Tulë!" Bard stopped him. "I need you with me, boy."
The great dog sat, but still looked to the door.
"I'll go…" Hilda turned, and began to follow, but Bard stopped her, too.
"I'm sorry, Hil, but I need you here, too. Ruvyn?" Bard called over to her Guard. "Can you please look after Tilda?"
"Of course, My Lord." The Guardian stepped forward. "Do you want me to bring her back?"
"Only if she's ready; don't push her."
"Yes, My Lord." He removed his helmet and went inside.
The foreign party entered the courtyard, with even more splendor than before.
Bard blew out a breath. Just stop… You can do this…
Abdullon IV, King of Harad, stopped his horse in front of the steps to the Great Hall, and dismounted, along with his guards, and made his way up the steps. He looked to be Percy's age, with grey at the temples of his thick, blue-black hair. He was a handsome man, but bore himself with great authority, who did not suffer fools, or tolerate disobedience.
Bard took a deep breath, whispered, "Here goes nothing…" then stepped forward, touched his head, his mouth and his heart and extended it, "Welcome to Dale, Your Illustrious Majesty."
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"Tilda?" Ruvyn located her in her bedroom, where she was sitting on her bed, fiddling with Charlotte's red hair, and trying not to cry. He knocked on her doorway, and asked gently. "Are you well, My Lady?"
She shrugged, and looked down at her doll. "My stomach feels funny."
Ruvyn sat down beside her. "Can I help?"
She shrugged. "I just get scared sometimes, you know?"
"I do. When there are a great many strangers around, you feel a bit…uncomfortable, is that correct?"
"Uh huh." Tilda's lower lip wobbled, and she wiped her eye. "I'm sorry I'm being so stupid."
"No, child; you are not being foolish at all. Would a hug make you feel better?"
"Okay."
The Elf put his arm around Tilda's shoulders and held her to him. "We can stay here today, if that is your wish."
"Ada and Da aren't mad?"
"Not at all. In fact, they sent me back here, so you would not be alone."
"But won't you miss the party?"
"I would rather make sure you are all right."
"Because that's your job, right?"
"It is my job, that is true," Ruvyn smiled, "but I would like to think I am your friend, as well?"
"Uh huh."
"I am glad that is settled. Now, where is your handkerchief, child?" Tilda reached in her pocket and took it out, and Ruvyn dried her tears. "Do you need to blow your nose?"
"Uh huh." Tilda did it twice, then leaned against him, as she reached over and picked up Daisy, who had been sitting on her bed. "Ruvyn? You've had bad things happen to you, right?"
"I am sad to say that I have, My Lady. My father and my brother were killed many years ago, and my mother sailed to Valinor."
"Celeborn told me about that place. She can't come back, can she?"
"No, she cannot, and I would not want her to, though I miss her very much. She was sad, and I feared for her health, so I asked her to go. King Thranduil granted me permission to take her to the Grey Havens."
"What's that?"
"That is a place West of us, where Elves board the ships to go to the Undying Lands."
"You must have been really sad when she left. You were all by yourself."
"I felt very alone, but when I returned home, Ivran who is my oldest friend, asked me to come live with him, and his family welcomed me into their midst."
"Did they make you feel better?"
"They did. You," he smiled at her, "are fortunate, because you have your Da and Ada and..."
"But people died, Ruvyn!" Tilda cried. "Those bad people came, and Meldon died, and he was my friend! Wynny died, too! I liked her, even though they said she did something bad, but she always nice to everybody! Her eyes welled up, again. "Those man killed Esta!" she wailed. "A man killed her and threw her... and now it's all different, and everything feels wrong without her!"
"I'm sorry, hênig."
"What if these people are bad, too? Those other men pretended before," she sobbed. "I'm scared, Ruvyn!"
"Shhh... " Ruvyn gathered her to him and made soothing noises. "We are safe today, Little One. Shall I tell you how we know for certain that these people are truly from Harad?"
"O-okay," She sniffed.
"Your Ada and Da sent a message to the King of Harad, telling him what happened. This message was in a small box with a spell on it, that can only be opened by the true King. Your Da wrote three "secret words" in that message, and the first thing the King must do when he arrives is to say those special words, so your fathers can be sure he is genuine."
"What if he doesn't?"
"Well, Commander Feren has the entire Elven force standing at attention, in the Courtyard, and he has worked out a special signal that your Da would give, if there is trouble. I promise, Tilda, you and your family will be safe."
"Are you sure?"
"As sure as I can be, My Lady. But if you would feel better staying in here, your family understands."
"Okay." She took her kerchief and absentmindedly wiped Charlotte's face. I just don't like to be around people I don't know, right now."
"That is understandable." Ruvyn agreed. "You will not always be so frightened, My Lady."
"How do you know?" Tilda leaned against him.
"Well, let us consider some things: when you first came back, you to had to stay with your Da and Ada at night, or you could not sleep, but now, you are in your own bed again. Is that not a sign of progress?"
"Even if we switched rooms?"
"Even so. You sleep at night in here and your parents are very pleased."
"Well, I sleep now… Farien almost had her kittens under my bed, and she made awful noises, but we put her into Tauriel's room. So that's better."
"That is true. There is something else, too. Who are you holding, right now?"
She looked down at her toys. "Daisy. And Charlotte."
"If I remember correctly, you had a problem with your doll, at first?"
Tilda shrugged. "Uncle Galion helped me. He said I should try to talk to Charlotte and tell her the stuff that was bothering me. I said I was sorry, too."
"Did it make you feel better?" Ruvyn raised his eyebrows.
"Uh huh. A little. It's hard, though."
The Elf smiled down at the little girl. "It might take a while, Tilda, but I honestly believe you will be fine. Now," he stood up and picked up a book. "Let us read a couple of stories, while you relax a bit, and maybe you will feel better, yes?"
"But I don't have to go out there?"
"Only if you feel ready, My Lady. Now, do you wish to read, or shall I?"
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King Abdullon bowed and paid homage to the King of Dale, and after doing the same to Thranduil, said a thick accent similar to Adila's, "I am honored by your greeting, King Bard." He stood up straight, and nodded. "I am also eager to put any fears to rest. I received your message, and though these were given to me in my language, My Lord, I would like to pay you the courtesy of saying them in yours." The King stepped forward, in front of Bard and Thranduil, and whispered three code words: "'Summer,' 'Emerald,' and 'Wheat.'"
Both Kings bowed again, and breathed a sigh of relief.
"I am full of joy to receive your words, Your Illustrious Majesty." Bard told him gratefully. "At this moment, the Children of Harad are safe in Erebor, where no harm could come them, until we could be sure you truly were the King. The King and Queen Under the Mountain are waiting for the signal to bring them. They should be here within the hour." Bard nodded to the Elf who had a Raven on his arm, and the dark bird quickly took off toward Erebor.
"What is this deception?" the King said, in alarm, as these words were quickly translated to the others. "They are not here?"
Three of the other Haradhrim began to speak rapidly to the King in agitation. Abdullon raised his hand, and commanded, "Zimita. Zimita!" Instantly the men were quiet, but they looked angry and upset. The King turned back to Bard. "You will explain. Why are these children held hostage from us?"
"They are held elsewhere for their own safety. Forgive us, Your Majesty, but a month ago, someone claiming to be you stood here in this same spot. These criminals distracted us, while others attacked the building where your children were housed and tried to murder them."
The Harad King quickly interpreted Bard's words to the other men, and looked concerned. "Were they harmed?"
"Thankfully, no. These Imposters were part of a much larger group of criminals. They attempted to take your children, then tried to kill ours. Two of our own daughters were kidnapped and nearly burned to death."
"Āsikefī…" the King murmured. "That is terrible!"
"It's true!" Bain stepped forward and gave courtesy. "I'm Bain, Crown Prince of Dale. These people tried to kill me and my sister Tauriel while I was out riding, and at the same time, my other two sisters were taken, along with four others, and my youngest sister nearly died. My father is only making sure everybody's safe. You can trust him.""
Bard watched the King narrow his eyes, and study Bain carefully, looking for a lie in his son's face. He couldn't blame the other King, and wondered how he would react, if the situations were reversed?
The King seemed a bit calmer, but the rest of his party were increasingly agitated, so Bard tried to smooth things over. "I'm sorry if you are offended, Your Majesty, but I cannot compromise the safety of any child, especially children who have been through so much. My eight-year-old daughter still suffers the effects of her ordeal."
Then the King of Dale squared his shoulders. "I offer myself as hostage, if you do not see the return of your children within one hour, Your Majesty."
As Bard spoke, one of the Harad party quickly interpreted his words to the rest of the Haradhrim, he could hear Sigrid's and Hilda's gasp, and feel the burning gaze from the rest of his family.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Thranduil whispered.
"Yes. It's the right thing to do. They don't trust us, and I don't blame them. It will be all right; Dáin won't let us down."
Finally, Abdullon managed to calm the rest of them down a bit, then turned back to the King of Dale. "We will wait an hour; no more. Any longer, and it will be considered an act of War."
"That is all I ask. I'm sorry for the delay, but I couldn't take a chance."
The Harad King gave Bard a nod. "I cannot say I would not do the same, but I must make you aware that several of the men in our party are fathers of these children, and have been in agony. I cannot guarantee they all will remain calm. As a parent, I hope you can understand."
"I do. King Dáin, Lord of Erebor has my complete trust, Your Majesty, as does his wife, Queen Dilna. It was the Dwarves who originally rescued your children from that village and brought them here. They have been a tremendous help in our efforts to make your children feel at home."
As before, all words between the Kings was quickly interpreted for the party, and while no one could say they relaxed, there was a tenacious acceptance.
"While we wait, shall I formally introduce my family? This is my husband, of course, Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm, and you have met my son and heir, Prince Bain…"
Once Bard finished the introductions, King Abdullon repaid the courtesy. As it turned out, the three men who expressed their outrage were also Abdullon's sons, and they looked to be about Bard's age. First the King and introduced his son and heir, Crown Prince Jammell- Werashi, and his two other sons, Princes Azimullah, and Muharrem, along with his secretary and the ranking officers, as Bard's group paid the Harad the proper respect.
The King of Dale smiled and indicated the Great Hall. "Our cook has prepared a feast to celebrate as soon as the children get here, but in the meantime, I would like to invite you to join us all for drinks. Surely you have had an arduous journey and would like a little time to refresh yourselves before you are reunited?"
Everyone entered the Hall, where the Haradhrim took in the high, domed ceiling, and carvings along the beams, and the tables, which were laid out in Dale's best linens and dishes bearing the seal of Dale, along with the seal of the Northern Kingdoms. In addition, fingerbowls, a tradition in Harad were also placed in strategic intervals.
"Nice work, Hil," Bard whispered to her. "The place couldn't look better. Make sure to tell Cook and Greta they have our thanks."
"I will." Hilda squeezed his hands and headed into the kitchens. "Thank Adila, too. We couldn't have done it without her."
"I will, when she gets here."
Once everyone was seated, drinks were served. "I also hope you don't mind if we wait until the guests of honor to eat, but we have snacks, ale, and several different vintages from my husband's kingdom," he smiled at Abdullon. "Although I warn you," he pointed to a large carafe, "that actually comes from Dorwinian, and has a bit of a kick."
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Thranduil watched the proceedings with pride in his heart. It was hard not to think of the first time he came into Dale, and saw this ragtag, starving band of people. Bard had looked exhausted then, careworn and completely hopeless. When the wagons full of food began to enter the courtyard, it was as if ten years had fallen from the Man's face, yet his kingly countenance remained.
And now, look his Hervenn, holding his own with this ruler, who oftentimes was an enemy of the West! His honest demeanor and dignity seemed to impress King Abdullon, though the Princes were ambivalent, no doubt they would be won over, too.
The two groups were becoming a bit more comfortable with each other, but the Elvenking did not miss the eager, anxious looks toward the doorway of the Great Hall, left open to let in the fresh air and light. With a pang, he recalled that same sense of urgency, and could not image the agony these parents suffered.
"King Thranduil?" Abdullon was addressing him, "I understand you have three children, yet I see only two."
"We actually have five children, between us, Your Majesty. Our oldest, my son Legolas, is currently West of the Misty Mountains, though we hope to see him soon. He is the child I fathered with my late wife. I adopted Tauriel as an infant, some years later." He indicated his red-headed daughter, sitting on the other side of Bain. "She was formerly a Captain in my military, but now has been charged with the safety of Bard's children. Sigrid and Bain were born from his late wife, and his youngest, is Tilda." Thranduil smiled apologetically. "Our little one has not had an easy time since the attack, and is under the care of her Guard, until her anxiety passes. I am hoping she will be able to come out, but I cannot push her."
"I feel sorrow for her pain. Are any of our children suffering so?"
"I have been told by Indis, their Counselor, that a few of them still suffer, but she works with them to help them overcome their fears. Your Majesty, I can assure you, all three Kings of the North have devoted themselves to their well-being. You should also know that the people of Dale, as well as my Elves who are stationed here, feel very protective of your children, and have shown them the utmost kindness and sensitivity. They have wanted for nothing while in our care, and have spent a great deal of their time in studies, to continue whatever education was started when they were taken."
"That is good news." Abdullon sighed. "And this Counselor, would it be possible for her to meet with us?"
"She would very much like to meet with all the parents while you are here. In fact, I would like to formally invite you and your party to tour the facility where we have housed them. The children have prepared a small program for you, with the help of Mistress Adila, one of their caretakers. She was born in Harad, Your Majesty, and she served as a liaison and interpreter, to help them adjust." Thranduil leaned forward. "You should know that Adila's husband was one of those murdered in the attack last month, and her children were kidnapped, along with our two daughters. She herself was nearly killed, but with the help of my Commander and Lord Bard's dog, she was rescued."
"Āsazanyi zēna…" Abdullon muttered. "Will this evil never stop?"
"As Kings, we know evil is a constant, yet we must always try, yes?"Thranduil said in a sad tone. "We have made every effort to destroy this network in the North. You have collected the children from Lothlórien?"
"We have. My brothers have reported that the children were healthy and happy to see them, but will miss their Elven friends."
"That makes me glad, but I am not surprised. My cousin and his wife rule that land."
"Your cousin is Lord Celeborn?"
"That is correct. One of my Healers is spending time there, which is fortunate, for he has extensive experience working with the race of Men. Your children were in excellent hands."
Abdullon nodded. "I am given to understand that several of the girls in your care have given birth?"
"They have – six to be exact, as you will soon see. Lord Bard was adamant that the beliefs of your people be carefully observed, and the infants have remained with their mothers, with all the support as we can provide." [1]
"You can do that?"
"Of course. And considering what these girls have suffered, it was the least we could do." He smiled at the King of Harad. "As in your Kingdom, Elves cherish all children. You might be interested to know that many of Dale's orphans have been adopted by my people."
"Really? And the difference in race is not a problem?"
"There are fundamental differences, of course, but so far, it has worked out wonderfully." He pointed to the auburn-haired couple sitting with a Harad Prince. "That is Feren, Commander of my Military, and his wife, who are now parents of two beautiful little girls, and took in the girls' grandfather. As with my husband and myself, our family might have differing bloodlines, but all are equally loved."
Abdullon raised his glass in a toast. "I am impressed, King Thranduil."
The bells from the North Gate once again began to ring, signaling the approach of the wagons from Erebor.
"That would be your children, Your Majesty," Bard grinned and stood up.
The Haradhrim were instantly on their feet and racing through the doors and onto the dais, as the wagons were brought into the Courtyard.
Dáin and Dilna were grinning from ear to ear, as was Dwalin, Balin and Bofur, as the Dwarves brought the wagons to a stop and set the brakes. The Courtyard was filled with shouts of joy as eager fathers rushed over, lowered the tailgates and quickly took their children into their arms. Most of them wept with joy and relief. The six Harad girls who had given birth were in the first wagon with Adila and Indis, and were carefully helped down, as well as their infants.
Hilda sniffed beside Thranduil. "I think that's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen…"
The Elvenking smiled and pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her. "I agree."
Bard came to stand beside them, "Look! Did you see that?"
Prince Muharrem was one of the fathers at the first wagon with sixteen-year-old Yasamine in his arms, and was weeping openly. Mistress Adila was standing next to her, waiting patiently with her small son.
"Your Majesty?" Thranduil turned to Abdullon…
…but the King of Harad was also at the wagon, eager to see his beloved granddaughter, and new great-grandchild.
"Oh Stars, that's it!" Hilda gave up trying to stay composed, "That's just it!" then burst into tears.
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"I had no idea your granddaughter was among the victims, Your Majesty," Bard told him, when they all finally settled down for the feast.
"I hope you understand the deception, King Bard, but all of my family have been taught use a false name in situations such as this. When you sent the list of children you were housing, we rejoiced to see that 'Yasamine' was among them. Since she was small, Princess Aziza has been taught to go by her… what do you call it?"
"Alias?"
"Yes, that is it. She uses her 'alias' if she needs to."
"That's a brilliant idea. I don't want to think of what could have happened, had these thugs known..." Bard winced. "You have my condolences. Truly."
"Tell me, King Bard—"
"Please, just call me Bard."
"Bard, then. And you must call me Abdullon, yes? King Thranduil tells me the children have been working with a Counselor…"
"Indis? She's right over there," Bard pointed to the dark-haired Elf, sitting next to Adila and her children. "She's been doing that kind of work for a very long time," he grinned, "and for an Elf, that is saying a lot."
"It was kind of you to help them, in this way…" Bard could see him struggle to keep his emotions in check.
Bard put his hand on Abdullon's shoulder. "I can't begin to imagine how relieved you are, and I'm happy for you. I wish there was a way to erase the memories, but I'm sure they will do better once they get home."
"Da?" A small voice was heard behind him.
Bard turned and saw Tilda standing nearby, nervously holding Ruvyn's hand, and Charlotte clutched to her chest.
"Hey, Little Bean! Would you like to meet the King of Harad?" He held out his arms. "Come sit with me, love."
Tilda hesitated a minute, then quickly let go of Ruvyn and scrambled into Bard's lap, and leaned her head against his chest.
"Thanks, Ruvyn."
"Of course, My Lord." The Elf nodded graciously then took his place with the rest of the Guards.
"King Abdullon, this is our youngest daughter, Tilda." He kissed the top of her head, and stroked her hair. "She was feeling a little bit shy, today."
"I am pleased to meet you, little Princess." Abdullon smiled and touched his forehead. "And who is this?" he indicated her doll.
"This is Charlotte, my friend." Tilda said quietly, then looked up at Bard. "He's really really the King, right?"
"Yes. This time, he's real. Does that make you feel better?"
Tilda said nothing, but nodded her head, and leaned back against Bard's chest.
"Ada's glad to see you here, too." Bard caught Thranduil's eye, and pointed to their youngest. The Elvenking smiled at Tilda, then returned to his conversation with Prince Jammell. "Did you know, Beanie, that Yasamine was really King Abdullon's granddaughter? He is very happy today."
"She's a Princess?" Tilda looked up at the darker King. "Her baby's cute."
"He is, indeed." He smiled at her, then spoke to Bard. "I want to assure you that all the babes will be cherished. We do not punish any child for their bloodlines or circumstances."
"I'm happy to hear it. Mistress Adila has explained a great deal of your culture and traditions to us, so we could keep the children comfortable. In fact," he smiled, "in your absence, I was named temporary head of their Gosa.[2] And thanks to my daughter here, I had plenty of stories to tell them, didn't I, Beanie?"
"Uh huh," Tilda nodded, shyly. "Da let me pick out the stories to tell."
King Abdullon touched his forehead. "I am sure you did a fine job, little one. Did you visit our children often?"
"Aye. Da took me every week, after school." She reached for a roll on her father's plate. "He told them a.. she struggled for the words, "'tibbi…'"
"Do you mean, a T'ibebi yazele tarīki?" 3
Tilda nodded. "That's always hard to say."
"I admit, our language can be difficult for those not used to it, but the Wise Tales are an important tradition among my people. Thank you, Princess Tilda, for your assistance." Abdullon said solemnly.
"You're welcome, My – I mean…" She looked at Bard.
"Your Majesty," he whispered.
"…Your Majesty." She finished.
The King of Harad took her hand and kissed it. "Certainly, we can be friends, yes? And among friends, you may call me Abdullon."
Tilda nodded, and gave him a small smile. "Thank you." Then she tilted her head upwards. "Da? Can I go see Ada?"
"Sure thing, love. Just make sure you ask Auntie Hil to get you a plate, all right?"
"I will, Da." She got down, then curtsied and looked at Abdullon shyly. "I'm glad you got your granddaughter back." And she scampered off.
"My family is whole once again, and we have been blessed with another." Abdullon raised his glass. "This is a day to rejoice."
"It is, indeed. We'll be sorry to see them go, to be honest. We've enjoyed having them." Bard became serious. "Tell me, if you would: have you able to recover all your missing kids?"
"I am sad to say, we have not. We have yet to find them in the area near Gondor…"
Bard was incredulous. "Turgon's the Steward there, right?"
"He is. I can tell you that his son Ecthelion has made some efforts, but…"
The King of Dale shook his head. "I'm sorry to hear that. How many are still missing?"
"We cannot locate forty-three children. I must assume some of them are dead, but otherwise…"
Bard sat back and crossed his legs. "I'm not sure, but I might be able to find out some more for you. Say, tomorrow, here, about ten o'clock? After, we can have lunch, then you can tour the building where they lived."
"I appreciate that. Today is not for business, it is for happy reunions."
"I understand." Bard smiled. "Congratulations."
After everyone finished dessert, and drank several toasts, Bard and Thranduil bid their guests good day, and the Dwarves helped bring the children outside of the City to the Harad encampment.
Dáin and Dilna came over and stood by them, as they all waved goodbye. Hilda was sniffling again, and Percy had his arm around her.
"Ah'm 'appy for the bairns, o' course," Dáin commented softly, "bu' Ah'll be sad te see 'em go."
"Me, too." Sigrid said, as she leaned against her Da.
"Adila won't go back with them, will she?" Tilda was in Thranduil's arms, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"I don't know, Little Bean. Did she say anything to you?"
"No, but I heard Indis ask her. She's real sad."
Bard sighed. "I hope not, but I wouldn't blame her if she wanted a change. Well, gang, let's get inside and see what the rest of the day brings, yeah?"
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TRANSLATIONS:
Gi melin, Thranduil. Uireb – I love you, Thranduil. Always.
Zimita. Zimita! (Haradish) - Silence. Silence!
Gosa – (Haradish) Family clan.
T'ibebi yazele tarīki – (Haradish) Tale of Wisdom
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NOTES:
[1] From "An Invincible Summer," CH 28: "It doesn't matter what any of us think." Bard's hand swept around the room. "These children are Haradhrim, and as their guardians, it is our obligation to learn and respect the customs of their land, not ours. Whatever our opinions or beliefs, we don't have the right to impose them on these kids, do we? In fact, if we try, we could not only cause discord among ourselves, which could affect the children, and it could cause them difficulty, when they are returned." /works/14127870/chapters/36256695
[2] From "An Invincible Summer," CH 28: "Adila stood, and graciously bowed her head. "My Lords, My Ladies: It is important to understand what family means to the Haradhrim. There is a word we use, 'Gosa,' which means 'more than family.' A typical Harad Gosa is large and extended, with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and many children who grow up like brothers and sisters, rather than cousins. We also 'adopt' others who would otherwise be alone." She turned to the Dwarves. "I believe in your culture, you call them 'Clans?'" /works/14127870/chapters/36256695
[3] From "An Invincible Summer," CH 29: "A what? I have to do what?" Bard raised his eyebrows at Adila. "What in the world is a 'Tibbebbell…?'"
"A 'T'ibebi yazele tarīki.' A 'Tale of Wisdom,' My Lord," Adila explained patiently. "The children will be expecting it."
"But… why?"
"As their Guardian you are the Rasi - the Leader - of their Gosa, My Lord," Adila explained patiently, "and as the Rasi, it is your sacred duty to impart your vast knowledge upon the children, so they may grow to be as wise as you." /works/14127870/chapters/36408054
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