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Chapter Forty-Six
SUMMARY: Thranduil and his Bowman snatch a bit of private time, before the day begins.
A large meeting is held in the Great Hall, where the Harad learn the details of their children's ordeal. Then Bert, one of the prisoners gives his testimony, reveals something unexpected and terrifying, and an urgent message is sent to Gandalf.
While the Kings wait, Rhian has been thinking things over, and has a talk with her Da to tell him what's been on her heart, then writes to Daeron...
Letters from Dale!
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"Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, Did my heart fly at your service"
-The Tempest – Act 3, Scene 1
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City of Dale, 1stof July 2943 T.A.
Thranduil awoke to solid warmth against his back, and soft kisses along the side of his neck.
"Morning, love," Bard murmured, before rolling onto his back, and the Elf could feel his husband's body grow taut as he stretched with a satisfied groan.
The Elf smiled, then rolled over and threw his arm and leg over his husband, and snuggled into him. "We do not have to get up, just yet. I want to take a moment to appreciate the joy of waking up in your arms."
He could feel Bard sigh and wrap his arm around his shoulder, and kiss his hair. "That's a nice thought to start the day."
"But it's more than just being with you, Bard. My Palace is beautiful, but I love it here, with these makeshift, rustic rooms, and all the noise and chatter our family makes. When we move into the new Castle, it will be quieter, and I will hate it."
"I will, too." Bard kissed his hair, and sighed. "I do plan to seal off the back of the Great Hall for the meeting today. What do you think about sending Tauriel and the children to the Mountain, until all this is over?"
"Do you fear for them?" Thranduil lifted his head. "I do not sense anything from King Abdullon, but his sons, particularly the Crown Prince…"
"I sense something, too, but it's understandable. Abdullon seems open to cordial relations, but his sons aren't likely to forget the kidnapping of their niece."
"But she will have told her father and uncles of her kind treatment at our hands. Hopefully all the children will do this."
"I'm sure they will, but it's more than that." Bard stared up at the ceiling, thoughtfully. "I get the sense that… well, some of the Harad think we might have 'corrupted' their children with our 'ways.'"
"But that is not true, Bard!" Thranduil raised up again to give him a sharp look. "We have all worked hard to observe their customs, including the Dwarves!"
"Iknow that, and you know that, but some of them seem…'rigid' about their beliefs."
"People of any race can be that way. This idea of 'purity' is just lazy cowardice, and that is not your fault!"
The Bowman sighed. "Well, it couldn't be helped, and I'm not going to worry about it, now. They're probably angry at the whole situation, and we just happen to be in the way."
"And we will give them seven men who deserve their rage." Thranduil rested his chin on his hands, "I had wondered if moving Bert and the others to Erebor last week was necessary, but now I see the wisdom in it."
"It saves me from lying to them, which is not something I'll do." Bard nudged him. "Hey…. No 'Kinging' in here, remember?"
Thranduil grinned, and began to nuzzle Bard's neck. "I apologize for my transgression. How shall I make it up to you, Meleth nîn?"
"Well, let me think…"
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A few minutes later, Thranduil let out a sigh as he crawled back into Bard's waiting arms. The Bowman was lying on the pillows, with a satisfied grin. "Gods," he said. "How am I supposed to do any real 'Kinging' after a breakfast like that?"
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"Are we ready, gang?" Bard asked, hoping his voice held the confidence he didn't feel.
The Kings were waiting on the dais along with several others, for the meeting today. Tables in the Great Hall had been arranged and set up with linens and refreshments, ready to accommodate the large gathering.
Fifteen minutes before the hour, Dáin and Dilna entered the courtyard, with Balin, followed by Bofur, Dwalin and the prisoner, Bert.
"Good morning, Your Majesties, Lords Balin and Dwalin," Bard and Thranduil bowed low in Dwarvish custom, as did the rest of the assemblage.
"A good morrow to you," the Dwarves returned the courtesy, then Dáin stepped forward and clapped Bard's shoulder. "Yer man's 'ere, as requested. Where do ye want 'im?"
"You can bring him over, thanks. How have all the prisoners behaved? They haven't given you any trouble, I hope?"
"Not a lick. Bert here's plenty nervous, but wanted te come."
Dwalin was helping Bert get down off his horse. His hands were manacled, but he was cleaned up, and his hair was combed out.
"Let's take these irons off, Feren," he ordered.
Then he addressed the man. "My Council received evidence yesterday that proves your story, Bert, and as of this moment, you're a free man."
"Thank you, My Lord." Bert bowed his head.
"Thank you for volunteering to do this, but if you want to change your mind, tell me now, and I'll have you taken back."
"I want to help, My Lord, even if it means you have to give me over to them. I don't care what happens to me."
"Surely you don't mean that," he said, gently.
"To be truthful, I... don't know how to live with the ugliness of it." The man looked down at the ground. "I feel…filthy."
Bard studied the despair in the man's face with concern. "Just give yourself some time, yeah? I'm going to arrange for you to talk to someone, who knows how help with these things."
"If you say so, My Lord." he shrugged.
"We'll talk about this, again. Now, today I'm going to introduce you as an informant—"
"But—"
"It's not a lie, Bert. The details don't matter. You will not mention the other prisoners in the Mountain, is that clear?"
"Yes, My Lord."
Bard turned to Feren. "Look after him, all right?"
"Yes, My Lord." The Commander saluted.
King Abdullon, two of the Princes, and their staff arrived in the courtyard at the stroke of ten.
After all the formal greetings, Bard invited everyone inside, "I hope you enjoyed a wonderful reunion with your granddaughter and new great-grandson?"
"Our tents flowed with tears of joy, King Bard, but today, the tears are different, as I'm sure you can understand. After all the excitement, comes the mourning for the time that was lost."
"I do understand." Bard gave him a grim smile.
"I must be frank, and say that I did not expect such careful consideration to be given to my people. I am happy to be wrong in my assumptions."
They continued their chatter, as they entered the Great Hall and seated themselves around the tables provided.
Bard remained standing. "Thank you for coming, everyone. I want to start by saying the reunions we witnessed in my Courtyard yesterday is something we will never forget. Congratulations to you all, and we wish you and all the families every happiness."
At this there was a round of applause, and the Haradrim bowed their heads in gratitude.
"Now, we need to tell you the entire story of how your children came to us, and Mistress Adila has volunteered as interpreter. Adila?"
The woman stood up, and went to stand next to Bard. She paid courtesy to all the rulers at the table, but said nothing.
"This all started with their discovery by the Dwarves. Bofur, if you would begin, please?"
The Dwarf stood, and carefully recounted the tale of the village they stopped in, and how they cleared the place of the thugs who had taken over the town, and the discovery of the children in the brothel. Then Dilna took up the next part in the tale, and gave her account of their early stay in the Mountain, care, and asking Bard and Thranduil for help.
Ermon then stood and spoke of his and Elénaril's careful examinations, emphasizing that they put the children to sleep, while they determined and healed their highly personal injuries. He then spoke of the pregnant girls, and what was involved in their care, and the delivery of the babies. "I am sure that your Healers would agree that it is always best if a mother can be awake during a normal delivery, but these were clearly not normal circumstances, and it was a kindness to spare them."
At this, Elénaril got up and handed a large packet of files to Abdullon's Aide. "These are detailed records of our findings written in Westron, Your Majesty. I hope your own Healers find them useful."
"I thank you," Abdullon nodded, as he accepted the papers.
After the Healers finished, Bard introduced Indis. "Since the beginning, she has worked closely with the children to help them come to terms with their captivity, and helped to teach them how to look past them. You will find no better Counselor than this Elf, and I urge you to heed her recommendations."
Indis stood, and began: "Over these past months, I have worked to earn the trust of the victims, and will continue that trust by keeping their confidence. It is not important exactly what each of them experienced, but how to help them go on. I strongly urge you, notto press the children for details, as it could undo much of their progress. If a child feels comfortable enough to volunteer such information, please, listen and offer quiet support, and emphasize the love and acceptance they need. However justified, you must refrain from expressing your anger in front of them."
She gave the Harad a warm smile. "Mistress Adila has explained the close-knit family structure of your people, and I believe the love of each child's Gosa, will be biggest factor in the healing of their hearts and minds. I have great hope for the future of these children. There are many cultures in Middle Earth could learn from this, Your Majesty." And she bowed with a show of respect.
Abdullon touched his heart, his mouth and his forehead. "You are very kind."
Bard took a deep breath, and began the difficult part of the tale. "I would ask His Majesty to provide another interpreter for the next part of this story, for I believe it would be cruel to ask Mistress Adila to recount events so soon after her tragic loss."
Beside him, he could hear Adila's sharp intake of breath, and when he turned to her, her eyes were moist. "Mistress, thank you for your help, but we'll take things from here."
She curtsied, as she tried to keep her composure. "Yes, My Lord."
King Abdullon got up from his chair and came over to take her hand in both of his, and murmured what was obviously words of condolence, Adila nodded accepted graciously, but clearly was overcome.
Bard was still concerned. "Indis? Could you go with her, and Tur could escort you both?"
"Of course, My Lord." The Elven Counselor quickly got to her feet, and she and her son took Adila's elbows, and supported her as she left.
Abdullon approved of Bard's consideration. "My sons hear Westron better than they can speak it, and my Secretary is fluent, and can assume this duty." He signaled to the man, who stood at the ready. "Please, continue."
For the next half-hour, Bard, Thranduil and Dáin each took a turn and recounted the events of the 29th of May. (As agreed privately that morning, Thranduil did not speak of his rescue by Celeborn, nor did they go into details of Tilda's healing. They simply said that he barely escaped the fire, and that Tilda nearly died from her heart condition, but they were grateful she did not.)
"And you are certain the leader of this entire group is dead?" Prince Jammell asked, in heavily accented Westron.
"Yes." Bard nodded. "I killed him myself, and then threw his body into the fire. Whoever this 'Jarod' really was, I assure you, he is no more."
"And you think this same man was responsible for those children captured and taken to Rohan? How can we be sure it was not the Rohirrim?"
"Look, I know you've had a difficult history with Rohan in the past," Bard told the Crown Prince, "but they've made extraordinary efforts to destroy that activity within their borders, with Lothlórien's help! Why doesn't that convince you?"
"Because those Elves and Men kept no prisoners, though we were given… evidence of their executions." Jammell said, with not a little frustration in his voice. "We are grateful for the recovery of the children from that area, but they have denied us the right to vengeance!"
"I urge you to forgive the Rohirrim, Your Royal Highness." Thranduil said. "They simply could not spare the Men to watch over prisoners, nor did they have the food with which to feed them. That area was hit hard with a plague, yet despite their grief, they still wanted help you! It was the ruling of the Marshals to execute not only those who took the children, but those caught participating in…that type of activity, which, in my opinion, speaks highly of them. These good people cherish children as much as you do, and to keep all those men alive would take food from the mouths of the innocent. As it stands, my cousin, Celeborn is working with the Marshal of the Wold, to give them Aide and protection, for some time to come, which he would never do if he did not believe these people were honorable!"
"So, I was told," the Harad King replied, with sideline glance at his heir.
"We have seven prisoners to hand over to you." Bard told them. "As we've said, many were killed when the Imposters came, and everyone in the woods, including their leader is dead."
"Is the man who pretended to be me, also dead?"
"He is, thanks to Thangon, over there." Bard gestured to the big dog, who was curled up by the firepit, taking a nap. "He alerted us right away that all was not it seemed, and Thranduil signaled for help."
Abdullon looked down at Thangon skeptically. "Your dog?"
"Thangon saved Adila's life, by breaking your Imposter's neck, before he had a chance to slice her throat."
At the sound of his name being spoken, Thangon hauled himself up, stretched with a groan, and ambled over to put his head on Bard's knee.
Abdullon smirked. "He is quite the animal."
"Thank you. He snores loud enough to shake the walls, but he's a good judge of character, and if he likes you, he'll give his life to save you." Bard patted Thangon's head, got back to the subject at hand.
"Enough!" The Crown Prince had enough of this chatter. "What about the rest of your prisoners?" Jammell demanded. "You have more than seven, this we know! Why are you keeping them from us?"
Oh shit… Bard's heart sank, and he saw Bert's face go completely white. How stupid and naïve could he be, to think they wouldn't hear about the others?
Thranduil, bless him, interjected. "Your Majesty, there are only seven men in Bard's dungeons. You are welcome to see for yourselves this minute, if that is your wish."
"My son, has four men in his dungeons in the Iron Hills," the King Under the Mountain added.
Bard held his breath, and met Dáin's eyes, who gave him a surreptitious nod.
At this, the two Princes, and Abdullon's Secretary began to argue rapidly with the King in their own tongue.
"It's true, Your Majesty!"
Everyone stopped their talking and looked at Bert, who was on his feet, and more than a little surprised to find himself doing so.
"Who are you?" the King of Harad asked him.
"My name is Bert, son of Bregor, from the Wold," he began, and proceeded to tell the Harad all that he had originally told Bard after he was captured.
"I only joined up with The Boss to put food in my family's mouths after the Plague. Then I had to stay, or those bastards would kill my sisters and their kids, if I left! Lord Bard fears for my safety, but I wanted to come, Sire!" A tear fell from his eye. "The Boss – Jarod - is dead, but I know you've got more kids out there, and I want to help you get them back. After that, you can hang me, or cut me into little pieces, I don't care; just... put an end to this madness!"
Thangon's head went up and he trotted over to sit in front of Bert. He nudged under his hand, and began to whine.
Bard sighed and turned to Abdullon. "Despite what Bert has offered, I'll notallow him to be turned over to you. This man is just as much a victim as the children, and he's been so torn down by what he's seen and was forced to do, he's got a death wish!
"Listen," the King of Dale addressed the Princes directly. "I understand your suspicion, but those bastards tried to destroy my own family, and I killed Jarod with my bare hands! Do you honestly think I'd show mercy to Bert if he was one of them?"
Bard and Thranduil exchanged nervous glances, as the King and Princes of Harad leaned their heads together, and spoke quietly in their own language. Abdullon was clearly attempting to calm his sons, but in the end, he waved his hand and spoke a sharp rebuke.
"Please, you must excuse my sons." Abdullon sighed. "We all struggle with anger, and many of my people, my sons included, believe we are owed custody of anyone involved, as a matter of honor."
"And for me, it is a matter of honor to protect those I believe to be innocent. Bert helped us locate the hostages; we'd have never found them otherwise, and all six of them -including the Princesses -would be dead!
"You may have the seven prisoners, and whatever information Bert can provide for you regarding Gondor. That is my final word." The King of Dale stood resolute, then the King of the Woodland Realm got to his feet, followed by the King and Queen Under the Mountain.
"If yer gonna take issue wi' Bard, yer goin' te hafta deal wi' us all, Highness." Dáin said, with and air of authority that would brook no argument. "No', do ye wanna take on the Northern Kingdoms, or do ye wanna listen te what the lad has te say, an' get yer bairns back? Either way, Ye'll no' be 'armin' a hair on 'is 'head!" The King Under the Mountain crossed his arms, as did his wife.
Abdullon stared into Bert's eyes for several minutes, then regarded Bard carefully. "I agree to your terms, King Bard." He looked over and gave Prince Jammell and his brother a severe look. "As do my sons."
The Princes still looked angry, but they nodded their agreements.
Bard breathed a sigh of relief, and cleared his throat. "Go ahead, lad."
Bert swallowed nervously. "Thank you, My Lord. First of all, Ecthelion's a good man, and he'll make a good Steward, I think. But his father, Turgon, is another story. He's eighty-eight years old, and the people of Gondor hardly see him! Eredan's the head of the Council there, and has the running of the City, despite everything Ecthelion tries to do. There's something fishy about it, because he's managed to oust anyone on the Council who disagrees with him, and put his own people there."
"So you think Turgon is held captive?" Bard asked.
"No one can prove it, because they bring him out just often enough to keep folks calm, but even when he's in Court, he'll only repeat what Eredan says."
Thranduil's eyes went wide. "There is surely something amiss here. The line of Stewards is a strong one, and none would be so doddering, even at such an advanced age. They have Númenorean blood, and it is common for them to live to be one hundred, or older."
"It's worse than that, Lord Thranduil. Eredan knows about Jarod – or 'The Boss' as we all called him – and I think he's a partner in that whole business down South."
Bard heard Dáin cursed under his breath. Thranduil looked alarmed.
Bert swallowed. "Your Majesty," he addressed Abdullon, "I can give you the names and locations of all the 'Pleasure Houses' – I'm sorry, but that's what they call 'em – in and around Minas Tirith, but I don't see how your men could go in there and get your kids, without it turning into a full-fledged war, and the first ones to be killed will be the kids."
"Bert is correct," Thranduil told them. "If a large group of Haradrim attempt to kill off the Steward's Secretary and several members of their Council, they would call out the entire army and kill every last one of you, and it would guarantee the deaths of all of your children, and whoever else they have forced into that life."
Abdullon covered his eyes, and his sons looked ill. "I am afraid I agree with that assessment," Crown Prince Jammell said, quietly, "yet we cannot sit by and do nothing."
"I'm afraid it might be worse than that." Bard's mouth was set in a grim line. "There was more to this 'Jarod' than you know, Your Majesty. Thranduil, I think we should explain what we discovered about him."
"What do you mean?" Abdullon asked. "Which enemy?"
"I agree." The Elvenking told him. "One moment, please," Thranduil signaled to Feren, then whispered to him in Sindarin. The Commander left, and within seconds, Elvish harmony could be heard in the Courtyard. "My Elves are praying, to shield us from listening ears. Please understand," he addressed the Harad contingent, "you must not speak of this outside this Hall, or your people could be in danger."
Abdullon's eyes widened, but he nodded his head, and issued a quick order to his sons and his staff and guards. "We have sworn not to repeat your words, King Thranduil, though I must demand an explanation."
"Eighteen months ago, the Evil One, the servant of Melkor, was recently banished from his holdings in Dol Guldur, South from here, and has taken up residence in Mordor once more. He is seductive, cunning, and can compel others to bend to his will, and turn them into Thralls. This "Jarod," was one of them, and there may be others."
"How do you know this?"
"I was given a message from Lord Celeborn. His wife, the Lady Galadriel discovered his true nature, and gave us instructions to destroy it. When Bard killed Jarod, we burned his body to release the evil spirit, then we sang our most powerful prayer to Varda, Queen of the Stars, to dissapate it completly.
"We also worship the Varinēri." King Abdullon interjected. We call her Kewakibiti Nigišitiin our language."
"That is well, for without the burning and the prayers, this spirit would simply possess someone else, and the danger would still be great.
Bert looked confused. "Beggin' your pardon, but you're saying something like that took over The Boss?"
"Yes, he was a Thrall– a servant of the Enemy." Thranduil told him.
"I believe it, My Lord. The Boss had a way of... gettin' into your head, and tell you what you want... He made me thinkthings, I'd never want to do, but I did 'em, because I had no choice! And I remember wondering if Turgon himself was going through what I did."
The Elvenking looked at Bert with intense eyes. "Are you saying you think this 'Eredan' might be the same type of creature?"
"It would make sense. The few times I saw Steward Turgon in the Hall of Kings, he's always looking to Eredan, and that bastard's forever whispering in his ear. Ecthelion hates his guts, that much I know for sure, and wants him gone, but Turgon won't hear of it. A lot of people hate Eredan."
"If that is true, more than Gondor would be in trouble." Thranduil said quietly.
Bard was speechless, and he looked over and saw Dáin close his eyes. If the Enemy was trying to start a War with the Free Peoples of Middle Earth, he'd found the perfect way to do it. There would be no Final War, because he'd have control over so much of the world, he wouldn't need one.
And the North would be taken.
Bard swore under his breath, and rubbed his forehead. This danger goes way beyond all those kids..."
"What are you saying?" Abdullon asked loudly, as his Secretary frantically interpreted. "What about our children?"
"No, you misunderstand me," Bard quickly tried to calm things down. "I think the attack on your people, and ours, is more than wanting to enslave your children. What if these kidnappings were all part of a bigger plan try to start a war with Gondor and Rohan? What if you and your children are pawns in a bigger game, with Sauron trying to control the pieces?"
"How so?"
"What better way to break the spirits of Free People but by hurting our children? What better way to cause such uncontrollable rage? It's that rage he wants, because it's how he takes control, then uses us, don't you see? Your country borders the land of the Evil One, as does Gondor. It makes sense he would target those countries the hardest!"
"Then how do we possibly rescue our children?"
"Bert and Thranduil are right. They key to all this is to free Turgon from Eredan's grasp. If the Steward can be free, then he'll gladly shut down that whole business and hand over your kids, without any harm done!"
But who can free the Steward? You say yourself you needed the help from magic; we do not practice such things!"
"It would take very powerful magic, Your Majesty," Thranduil agreed. "Fortunately, we know of one who can help. I advise we contact him immediately, and wait for his instructions."
Within an hour, an urgent message was composed, and sent off with a Raven, plus two others, to guard the messenger. All said a silent prayer that the birds could locate him quickly.
Two days later, the Raven returned, landed on the dais and stuck out its leg. The message said:
Rec'd messg. Suspicions correct- MOST URGENT! Will arrve in 4 days to Dale. See if guests can remn until then.Say nothing -Ears everywhere!
There was no signature, but the "G" rune said it all.
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City of Dale, 6thof July 2943 T.A.
"You're doing it, again, sweetheart."
Rhian came back to herself, and looked over at Ben, who was sitting in his chair, smiling at her. It was late in the evening, and after a day full of working and taking care of Darryn, they were enjoying the quiet.
"Doing what?" she asked, but she knew. Her knitting was sitting in a pile on her lap, and she had been staring off into space. Again.
"What's on your mind, Rhian? Are you all right?"
"I'm good, Da. Don't worry."
Ben put down his book, took off his spectacles, and studied his daughter carefully. "Are you upset about Evan? You seem like you've stayed friends, but do you regret breaking it off?"
"Not at all, Da. Why would you think that?"
"I saw him squiring that young teacher around the Market the other day."
"You mean Eryn?"' Rhian smiled. "Good for him!"
"You're not upset?" Ben asked.
"No. In fact, I was the one who steered him in her direction."
"Then what were you thinking on, love?"
"I just keep thinking of something he said the day we talked."
"What's that?"
"Something Evan seemed to understand before I did. He said that my heart knows what it wants, it was just waiting for my head to catch up."
"Which is?"
Rhian put her knitting aside, and came over to sit on Ben's foot stool. "I am in love, Da, but not with Evan. I just… don't know how you're going to feel about it, that's all."
The City Planner tilted his head. "Does this young man love you back?"
"Very much. I guess he's loved me all along, but knew I wasn't ready." She took a deep breath. "The thing is, he's not a Man at all, Da. He's an Elf, and that could mean something different."
"An Elf you say?" Ben leaned back in his chair and intertwined his fingers on his belly. "But you say this boy – this Elf - loves you, too?"
She nodded.
"Has he told you this?"
"No. Well, yes, in a way, but Lord Thranduil says it's true. I went to see him right after the Vigil, and told him what I saw that night. I was afraid it might be just a dream, because I'd broken things off with Evan and didn't like the…I don't know…empty space."
"What did the Elf King tell you?"
"Well, when told him I had feelings for Daeron, and I might be in love with him—"
"Daeron?"
Rhian's eyes filled with tears, and she nodded. "Aye, Da. I've always loved him as a friend, but now, I think about us, and what it would be like to be his wife, and…" she looked up at Ben shyly. "You know. The way you think about Hannah, and I've seen her look at you, too. That's how I feel about Daeron."
"But Daeron hasn't said anything to you himself."
"No. And he wouldn't, either. All this time, he's been keeping to himself, waiting and hoping…" Rhian covered her mouth with her fingers, with the joy of it. "He did that for me, so I could discover things for myself."
"And you're sureThranduil didn't tell you any of this, until you told him of your own feelings, right?"
"I know what you're worried about, and no, this isn't obligation, I promise. Lord Thranduil asked me the same thing, and suggested I think about it for a while. He didn't want me to say anything to Daeron, until I was completely sure."
She leaned forward and put her hand on Ben's knee. "And I am sure, Da! I really love him, but I don't want to do anything until I have your blessing. You like Daeron, don't you?"
"I've always thought the world of that boy, and if you think he'll make you happy, then I honestly can't think of a better son-in-law."
"Thank you, Da!" She flew into his arms. "Thank you!"
"Now, now…" Ben cleared his throat. "If I have to lose you, sweetheart, he's a good lad."
"You'll never lose me! No matter what happens, I'll always be your girl, and Darryn will always be your Grandson." She smiled through her tears. "You're stuck with us, Da, and don't you forget it."
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LETTERS FROM DALE
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To Celeborn from Thranduil:
To my dear Cousin,
I'm happy to report that we are doing very well here. Tilda, as always, sends her love, as you will see from her letters, which she has said are "secret." (I suspect she does not wish me to correct her grammar or spelling.) Bard and I have recently met with the King of Harad, whose granddaughter, as it turns out, was one of our refugees, and presented him with a great-grandson.
Yesterday, we bid the Harad children a sad, but very fond, farewell, as they left with their fathers to return home. The rest of the party will remain here on other business, of which I will speak to you at a later time.
Your Galadhrim have performed admirably, as always, and it is sad to think their year with us is almost over. I am told that my newly-promoted-Captain (Elion) will be bringing home his betrothed, Warden Airen. I gladly accept this new addition to my Kingdom, but I was thinking perhaps we could arrange a trade?
It would seem that one of my Guardians by the name of Ivran, has fallen in love with one of your Archers. I became aware of this romance when Ivran was shot while protecting my daughters. Cwën was constantly at his bedside, and I confess he was making the most of it. Apparently, he likes being fussed over – at least by her.
I do not know what their plans are, in truth, but I have given my blessing, and if your require your Archer's services there, then I will release Ivran from his duties, with the option to recall him should the need become great. Your Cwën is exceptionally talented, and played a key role in saving the lives of my daughters the night of the attack.
Much affection to you and your lovely wife, and hope to see you soon, if our duties can (ever) permit such a thing.
With my very best regards, I remain
Your faithful cousin and friend,
Thranduil
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To Galadriel from Tilda:
Deer Gallerdil and Cellebron
How are you. I amvery, very good! I can do all kinds of stuff, now. The Dwarfs gave us some chalk, and Alis and Dafina came over with there Da and we drewall kindsof stuff on the stones in the Cortyard. Then we played this game where we drew sqares and hoppt on one foot. And I cood do it, and wasn't tirred at all!
I swiched rooms with my sister to help me not have bad dreems and I like it, ecsept when Tarriels cat almost had kittens under my bed and she made creeepy noises. I screemed and ran and got my Ada and Da. Ferrien had six kittens tho, and theyr really cute.
The kids from Harid went back home and I felt reel sad, but was happy too, caus they get to see their Mams again.
Da said the Wardans will go home in 8 more weeks. I'm sad. I like them and dont want them to leave but Da says Darrin will come back and the rest of them, so I'll be really glad about that, but I like Roomil! He's my friend! Cant he stay? Pleese?
Anyway, I like summer. I miss Esta a really lot, thogh. It still feels weerd without her. But the kittens help.
Love,
tilda.
Ps I drew you a piksure. I hope you like it.
And tell Cellebron I miss him, too.
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To Daeron from Rhian:
Dear Daeron,
I can't believe how nervous I am to write all this - my heart is pounding, my hands are sweaty, and my stomach is doing flips!
But I've taken some time, and given this a lot of thought, to be absolutely sure of things, because to do anything else would be cruel. Oh, Daeron, the last thing in the world I'd ever want to be is cruel to you!
Your flowers are in full bloom here, and they are the most beautiful Irises I've ever seen! I had no idea they could be like that, but isn't that just like you, to make sure I get something so lovely? I think of you every time I see them, and have put some of them in a vase by my bed, and even on my desk at work which means I am thinking of you all the time.
All right; enough stalling. I just need to come out with it…
I went with Sigrid and Tauriel to the Silent Vigil the Elves held here, and I think it was one of the most important things that has ever happened to me.
I saw something so wonderful that night, I couldn't believe it was real, then all of a sudden I knew Iwanted it to be, more than anything in the whole world...
I sawyou, Daeron! I saw you, and we were together, and you kissed me. Then I knew I want you to kiss me over and over and over, as often as you can, for the rest of our lives.
I've always loved you as a friend, but when did that turn into something more? I can't really say. Maybe it was always there, but I needed to be ready for it.
I went to Lord Thranduil, who he told me how you felt about me. Please,please- don't be angry with him! You have to understand…I'd just gone through this powerful thing, and didn't have a clue what do do next!
I was happy, but I was scared out of my mindthat you might not feel the same way, and I started bawling all over the poor Elvenking. What else could he do, with this blubbering mess of a girl, but to tell her what she wants to hear? Lord Thranduil only told me of your feelings because he was afraid I'd turn away from what was going on, and Oh! I'm so glad he did!
Still, maybe you don't even feel the same way anymore...
Maybe you'd rather just forget the whole thing.
Considering that I've been oblivious to your feelings for so long, I wouldn't blame you. I thought about that a lot, too, and it broke my heart to think you'd been hurting like that, and I'm so, so sorry!
But the thing is, even if you've changed your mind about all of this,I still need to tell you how I feel.
I'm in love with you, Daeron, and I'm praying with all my might you still feel the same about me. If that's true, I want you to come home, then see what we can be together.
I figured I would lay it all out now, because then you can just write me and say you'd rather not, and we could both have some privacy to deal with any awkwardness, and to be honest, so can have time to accept the truth, and keep what dignity I have left.
But if you do want me, please,pleasemake sure of it before you say so. I'd rather be hurt now, and get over it, than even more in the long run.
Love (however way you want me)
Rhian
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