Chapter Fifty

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SUMMARY: The Royal Family enjoys a private visit from Celeborn and Galadriel in Thranduil's chambers, and the Lord and Lady have gifts for everyone, but little Tilda's present steals the show.

Rhian has been on pins and needles, waiting for the Guardians to return home and plans out a perfect, romantic reunion…

But it doesn't quite work out that way…

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"It wasn't that long, and it certainly wasn't the kind of kiss you see in movies these days, but it was wonderful in its own way, and all I can remember about the moment is that when our lips touched, I knew the memory would last forever."

― Nicholas Sparks, A Walk to Remember

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The Woodland Realm, 28th of August 2943 T.A.

After the Guardians had been dismissed, Bard and Thranduil approached the Lord and Lady.

"I have arranged for a private meal with you and your Wardens tonight, but my family and I would be honored if you would join us afterward in our Chambers."

"Please come!" Tilda smiled, still in her Ada's arms. "Then I can show you my room!"

"Who could turn down such a generous offer?" Celeborn smiled. "We would be honored to attend, Ettā."

"Excellent! Enjoy your visit with Rúmil and the others, and we will meet you, then."

After the formal courtesies were observed, everyone left the Throne Room.

Tilda squirmed to be put down, but she still held Thranduil's hand. "Wow…"

"Why do you say that, my little love?"

"She was 'glowy,' wasn't she?"

"You aren't imagining it, Beanie," Bard said. "She did seem to…shine, a little." He looked over at his son. "You look a bit pole-axed, Bain. What did you think of the Lord and Lady?"

"She is… wow…"

"Pretty?" The Bowman jabbed his son. "Homely? What?"

"No, not pretty. She's gorgeous!" the young boy shook his head. "I didn't know girls could look like that."

"They do not, and she is hardly a girl." Thranduil tried to hide his smile. "Galadriel is a Noldor Elf, who was born and raised in Valinor, under the Light of the Two Trees. Sigrid was not exaggerating when she said The Lady was special. She is the most powerful and important Elf on Middle Earth today."

"Whatever, I just… when she looked at me, it seemed like she could see what I was thinking."

"Oh, boy..." Bard winked at his husband. "Let's hope you were thinking good thoughts, then."

"Da-a!" The boy looked mortified.

"Do not tease, Meleth nîn." Thranduil smirked. "After all, Bain was bound to discover the opposite sex sooner or later…"

"Ada!" Bain stopped, and his face grew red. "That's not—"

"What? Fair?" Sigrid quipped. "After you embarrassed me at dinner that night? Now you know what it feels like!"

"Hey! I apologized! Then I had to shovel horse manure for weeks!"

"All right, children." Bard laughed. "I hope you behave later, or your poor Auntie Hil will faint."

"Hmm?" Hilda was lost in thought and heard her name called. "What?"

"Don't mind her," Percy teased, as he pulled her hand into his crooked elbow. "She's a bit taken with Lord Celeborn, I think."

"I am not! I just…never saw hair that was…so…silver, that's all!"

"And you never saw hair so blonde, when you first met Thranduil, didn't you?"

"I rather thought you liked my hair," the Elvenking sighed. "I am sad to know I was just passing fancy."

"And I seem to remember you remarking how tall the Galadhrim were…" Percy sighed, "It's kind of you to still want a homely, balding old man like me."

"Percy!" Hilda smacked him.

"No, no; I understand, love. You have a 'type,' so I'll just have to start shaving and grow out my hair… Thranduil, do Elves ever make wigs? I'll talk to the cobbler and have him put lifts in my boots, so I'll be a foot taller…"

"Percy…" she warned.

"…I'll probably fall and break my ankles, but hey!" He leered at his wife, "If you go for the tall, thin ones, I'll do anything to turn you on. It would be fun, wouldn't it?"

"Stop! Please!" Bain looked horrified and covered his ears.

"Ewww!" Sigrid made a face.

"What?" Tilda asked. "How could Auntie Hil turn Uncle Percy 'on?'"

"Never you mind, Little Bean," Bard snickered. "We'll explain when you're a bit older."

Later, there was a knock on their door, and Ivran and Ruvyn announced the Lord and Lady's arrival.

"Please! Come in!" Thranduil welcomed them, then embraced each of them. "May I offer you some wine?"

"I would love some, but first, we have some gifts." Celeborn smiled. "They are waiting outside."

"That's thoughtful of you," Bard smiled and bowed his head, "although hardly necessary, after all you've done for us. We should be giving you the gifts."

"It was no effort, Lord Bard." Galadriel smiled. "The sight of your healthy children is reward enough."

"If you would, please call me Bard. We try to drop the formality at the door."

"A wise policy, Bard," She agreed. "And you must refer to me as simply 'Galadriel.'" She turned back to the door, as her servants brought in several packages.

"For you, Ettā Thranduil," she handed him a small box. "My granddaughter Arwen sends you this, in memory of her former handmaiden, whom she loved dearly."

Thranduil opened it, so see an oval miniature, of a small Elfling with brown hair and eyes. "Oh…"

"Evidently her parents had it done years ago and must have left it behind. Arwen kept it as a reminder, but she wants you to have it."

The children gathered around him, to see. "She was so cute!" Sigrid breathed.

"Her hair was a lot darker than mine," Tilda observed. "Her ears were so big!"

"All Elves have bigger ears, Tithen Pen; we grow into them when we grow older." Thranduil said, still staring at the small object in his hand. "Thank you, Mellyn nîn."

"You are more than welcome." Celeborn stepped forward and embraced him. "We are delighted to see you whole, once more." He whispered and hugged him tighter. "I worried for you, for a long time, Ettā, and my heart sings at your happiness. You are fortunate indeed to have a husband who encourages your affection toward Mírelen. It shows the highest quality, even among Men."

Thranduil couldn't speak, but he returned his cousin's embrace.

"And for the King of Dale," Galadriel regarded him with a smile. "I have seen that you have no desire gold, jewels and such, for you revere the health and safety of your people. For that I name you and your family 'Elf-friend.'"

"These are for your children and their descendants. She handed him a box with golden markers, on thin chains. "These will guarantee them Lothlórien's help and protection, should the need ever arise.

"I have another gift, one of foresight, which I am happy to share," she came closer and whispered. "Your son will follow his father's excellent example and be a good and just King. He will be loved by his people, as will his son, and his son's son, as Dale grows and prospers. Beyond that, I cannot see, but I hope this brings you comfort and encouragement."

"Thank you," Bard was moved. "This means… more than you can imagine."

She stepped back, as Celeborn handed Sigrid a tiny box. In it was a signet ring, bearing no jewel, but the image of a tall goblet, with wings. "This is a Healer's Seal, hênig. This was sent to you by the Master Healer of Lothlórien. He has been impressed with Daeron's stories of you, and humbly requests that you wear this gift, when you complete your training and begin to practice your art."

Sigrid gave him a radiant smile. "I would be honored. Thank you so much!" On impulse, she threw her arms around the Lord of the Golden Wood. "Thank you!"

"You are most welcome, child." He laughed, as he returned her embrace. "Still," he pulled back, "I warn you: this profession can be all-consuming, much like the role of a King or Queen, and you must work hard to keep a balance in your life. Follow your fathers' example and leave your work at the door, when you enter your home, for family is what will give you the life and energy to serve others." He held her chin up. "Do you promise this?"

"I will," she swallowed. "I promise."

"That is well," Galadriel looked into her eyes for several moments, then said, "Your One will not come from Dale, yet you will remain here and happily so, and you will give birth to the first grandchild. Your son will be beloved by all the Kings of the North, and you will have difficulty keeping them from spoiling your children." She grinned at the Kings, then whispered. "But do not be in a hurry to grow up too soon, young Sigrid; your fathers are not ready to let their beloved daughter go, just yet." She winked.

"Now, Bain," Celeborn handed him a bundle. "These are used by my Wardens. They, too, must follow Elven tradition and earn their first swords, and I would not deny your Ada that opportunity. Still, I do not think he would mind if I give you this."

Bain unwrapped the soft cloth, to reveal a set of fighting knives, with curved blades and dark wooden handles, accented with gold. "Wow! These look like the ones Legolas had!"

"And well they should, for his were a gift from us, as well, when he was the equivalent to your age. And here," he handed him another bundle, "Are dull knives of similar weight to train with. I have heard of your natural prowess with the sword, Bain, but your prowess with these and the Bow will only help to ensure your safety and be an example to your Army."

"They're amazing!" Bain held one up, still in its scabbard to admire the handiwork.

Celeborn gave the young Prince a serious look. "As a future King, you must work twice as hard, be twice as vigilant, and bear much more than your people can imagine. This burden can often seem terrible, Bain, and you will become discouraged and frustrated, but do not give up. As a leader, you will have very few friends that you can truly depend upon, yet lean on them, listen to them, and do not disregard their honest advice."

"Yes, My Lord." Bain stood tall and proud, as he nodded his head.

"Now, we come to you, little Tilda." Galadriel smiled at their youngest. She stood beside her tall Ada, swinging her skirts back and forth and giggling into her hands.

Celeborn bent down on one knee and smiled. "Little Princess, when last we spoke, I had to give you the sad news that your friend Esta had passed away. I know you miss her terribly."

She gave a little frown, and nodded her head, as she took her Ada's hand. "She was my best friend."

"You have honored her memory, I think. I see that you have worked hard to stay brave."

"Not always, though." Tilda admitted. "I got scared when the Harad came and hid in my room."

"Ah, but, you came out, of your own free will, did you not?"

"Well," she looked down. "Ruvyn sat with me, but after a while, I wanted to try."

Celeborn stroked her hair. "You see? And I am sure your family was proud of you."

"We certainly were," Bard agreed. "She and King Abdullon became friends, didn't you, Little Bean?"

"Uh huh. He's real nice and has lots and lots of grandchildren."

"Your skills as Ambassador are legendary," Celeborn chuckled. "As much you loved Esta, do you think perhaps you might find room in your heart for another friend?"

Tilda was confused. "But we're friends already, aren't we?" She looked up at Galadriel, "Even though I just met you, we wrote letters so that means we're friends, too."

"This is true, Tilda," Galadriel smiled down at her. "What my husband means is someone you have yet to meet."

"Who?"

"Excuse me, for just a moment," Celeborn stood up straight and went to fetch something just outside the door. He returned with a lidded basket and placed in on the floor in front of the little girl.

"What is it?"

There were scratching sounds coming from the basket, and Sigrid and Bain knelt down on either side of her. "Open it, Til!" Bain grinned.

She lifted the lid and out popped a little head, with a yip.

"A PUPPY! OH, IT'S A PUPPY!" Tilda screamed at the top of her lungs and jumped up and down. "Ada! Da! I got a puppy!"

It was indeed a puppy, with black ears, a tan coat, and a cute, wrinkled black face. It looked around the room and began to whine as he tried to jump out of the basket.

"Isn't it sweet?" Sigrid grinned and laughed. "Look at the cute little face!"

"Oh…" Tilda plopped on the carpet and lifted the small, squirming pup into her arms. "You're so cute…" then she laughed as it began to cover her face with kisses.

"Do you like her?" Celeborn asked.

"Is it a girl?" Tilda then lifted the squirming bundle, whose corkscrew tail was blur from excitement, and checked. "It's a girl!"

"Where did you find her?" Thranduil asked.

"You can thank Daeron. He befriended a young couple from a village called Langhold, whose mother breeds them. He suggested we buy her for Tilda." He laughed. "She hardly ever rode in her basket. Most of us took turns tucking her into our tunics and letting her ride with us."

"This is perfect." Bard smiled. "Tilda's been a bit lost without Esta." They looked on, as Tilda stroked her cheek against its soft fur, and cooed over her new little friend.

Sigrid rubbed her sister's back. "Come on, Til. Let's take her outside," Sigrid grabbed her hand. "She's been cooped up in that basket, so let's let her run around Ada's garden, yeah?"

"I might as well take Thangon out, too, while we're at it," Bain got up. "Tulë Thangon!"

"NO!" Tilda cried, holding the pup closer. "Thangon will eat her!"

"He will not, Tithen Pen." Thranduil promised. "Still, take him a fair distance away from the girls, Bain."

"I will, Ada. See you guys later!"

After they were seated, Thranduil put his arm around Bard's shoulder, and raised his glass and toasted his guests.

Celeborn also offered a toast. "Truly, my dear Cousin, it does my heart good to see you in bliss. Mírelen would be happy for you."

But Galadriel looked closely at the Elvenking, and a smile slowly spread across her features. "I believe she has said as much to you in person, has she not?"

"You are very perceptive," Thranduil chuckled.

"Does she do that a lot?" Bard asked Celeborn.

"She does," the Lord of Lothlórien grinned, and kissed his wife's hand. "I would not have her any other way." He settled back and made himself comfortable. Now then, tell us this story my wife is obviously referring to."

"Well, you see, I had hurt my leg pretty badly last year, and Thranduil…"

Later, everyone was getting settled in bed, and Tilda was in her room, arguing with her parents about where the puppy should sleep. "I want her with me, Da! Won't she be sad in her basket by herself?"

"If I let her stay with you, you'll be playing with her all night instead of sleeping."

"But I'll miss her," She turned her blue eyes full-blast on Bard, but he was adamant.

"She's still just a baby, Little Bean. What if she crawls around and falls off the bed? She could get hurt, not to mention she's liable to poop and pee all over your quilt. Ada and I will look after her."

"Tilda," Thranduil told her. "Your Da is right. You need your rest, so we will keep her with us." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Good night, Tithen Pen."

Tilda sighed. "You'll take good care of her?"

"Promise." Bard held out the squirmy bundle. "Give her a kiss. Now close your eyes, and start thinking about what you want to name her."

"All right," she sighed. "Good night, Da."

They turned her lamp down low, then closed her door.

"May I hold her now?" Thranduil held out his hands.

"I'm surprised you haven't gotten your mitts on her sooner, to be honest," Bard teased. "You and babies..."

They went out to the sitting room, and Thranduil set her on the floor, near Thangon, then put his arm around his Bowman, as they watched the puppy acquaint herself with him.

After a few seconds of hesitation, the small pup, who looked like a tiny version of Thangon, barked at him, to let him know she was here. Thangon raised his head, and tilted it back and forth, eyeing her closely.

Bard laughed. "She's not afraid of him at all is she?"

As if in response, the pup growled and attempted a few authoritative barks, which came out as squeaks. Her whole heart went into these efforts, as with each little yip, all four paws left the ground. Thangon's eyebrows went up and down, and whined, then lowered his nose to give this tiny interloper a sniff. Not to be outdone, the brave little pug-nosed dog walked closer, and sniffed him right back, and her corkscrew tail was a blur.

Bard leaned his head on Thranduil's shoulder. "I want you to draw this, love."

"Another scene for our book." The Elvenking agreed.

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City of Dale, 28th of August 2943 T.A.

Rhian sighed, for what must have been the hundredth time that day.

Three days ago, she'd been bitterly disappointed when Darryn came down with a cold, right before they were scheduled to go to the Palace to greet the Guardians.

"I could stay with him, sweetheart." Ben offered.

"No, Da; you've got business to take care of. I was just going to go along for the ride, to see Daeron. Besides, you know how cranky the baby gets when he's not feeling well, and he only wants me. I can't leave him when he's so miserable."

"What did Ermon say about it?"

"Darryn's lungs are good, and so are his ears, thank the Stars. He's just stuffy, but we're keeping a close eye. I've got some stuff to put into a steam."

"I'm sorry, love." Ben hugged her and kissed her hair. "I know how much you wanted to go."

"I did, but there's no sense in getting upset. You'll all be back later this week, and by then Darryn will be better."

The next day, she helped her Da pack, and sent him off to join the rest of the Wardens and the Royal Family, with a kiss on the cheek and a brave smile.

"Be good, Babinod," Ben kissed Darryn's warm little head and stroked his dark curls.

"Can you say goodbye to your Grandad?" Rhian smiled at the baby in her arms.

"Bye-by, Gada!" Darryn lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers into a fist several times. "Bye-by!"

Then he was off, and the house was quiet. Rhian rolled her eyes and groaned. She loved her son; she really did, but every part of her wanted to be on that wagon!

What to do with herself? There was nothing to do at the Castle, because Hilda had gone with the rest of the Family, Tauriel took advantage of their absence and went to Erebor for a visit. Alun and Feren were officially in charge of the City, with King Dáin ready to step in should something happen.

"Well, Little Man, let's get that nose taken care of." She put him in his playpen and set some water to boil on the stove. Then she put some into a bowl, with some eucalyptus oil and sat under a large towel with him in her lap, as she sang him some songs and told stories.

"What do you think, sweetie? We'll hide under here for a while, yeah? Are we hiding, sweetie?"

Darryn leaned against her chest and nodded. He hadn't slept well the night before and was a bit limp. She continually wiped his nose, and tried to teach him to blow, but all he managed was a few raspberries, which made them both smile. Still, the steam loosened things up and he began to sneeze, which helped.

When she lifted the towel off, the cooler air felt wonderful.

"Are you hungry?"

"Uh huh," he nodded. "Cookie."

"Well, chicken soup first, then a cookie; how does that sound?"

"'Tay," Darryn sniffed.

After lunch, she lay down in her bed with him, and they both took a long nap, with did them a world of good, then spent a quiet evening rocking him and singing.

The next day, Darryn was feeling much better, but still slept a great deal, so she worked off her nervousness by taking it out on her house and scrubbed and polished and fluffed whatever needed done. The rug in the sitting room was taken out and beaten, and she managed to get the clean nappies out on the line, to dry in the sun.

When the baby woke up from his afternoon nap, she changed him, and tickled his feet. "My sweet boy is getting better, yeah?"

"Be'er!" He giggled.

"Where's your nose?" she asked, then he grabbed it. "Good! Now your eye, and your mouth?" She picked him up and kissed him. "You are sooooo smart! You'll have to show Daeron how smart you are."

He pointed to himself.

"No, love. You're 'Dare-in.'" She poked his tummy. "I'm talking about 'Die-ron.' He's Mama's best friend and went away for a while, but now he's coming back in four days!" She sighed happily. "Mama can't wait! And he's going to be sooooo surprised at what a big boy you are!"

"Big." Darryn opened his arms wide. "Big!"

"That's right." She picked him up and pointed to the sketch of Daeron she kept on the shelf. "See? That's Daeron! And he wants to see you!"

"Ada," Darryn said. "Ada."

"Oh ho! You're getting a little bit ahead of yourself, aren't you? Silly boy! Now, where's Blankie? We need to get ready for dinner, because Hannah's coming to eat with us!"

She started to carry him out of the nursery, but at the last minute, turned back and grabbed Daeron's picture.

"Ada!" Darryn said happily, as she went through her room, and into the sitting room, where she set it on the Mantle.

"There! It looks better here, doesn't it."

The baby giggled, "Adadadadadaaaaaaaaa!"

"Silly baby," she kissed his hair. "What do you think, Little Man? Is the house all pretty?"

"Pity," he grinned, and held up his blankie. "Kiss Banky."

"Hello, Blankie." And she made loud kissing noises, making him giggle. "Do you like Mama's pretty house? We have it all nice for when Daeron comes, don't we? We'll dress you up in your nicest outfit, and comb out all your hair..."

"Hair," he pointed to her braid and tried to pull it.

There was a knock at the door.

"Ooh! Who could that be?" She carried him to the door and opened it. "Let's see who it is… Hello, Hannah! Come in!"

"'Anna!" He squealed.

"Hello, lovey." The woman kissed his cheek, then turned to Rhian and looked at her closely. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

"Here," she touched a place on Rhian's nose, which was surprisingly painful. "I think you've got a pimple, dear."

"A WHAT? No!" She quickly handed the baby to the woman and raced into her bedroom and looked in the mirror. "Oh, my stars! I've got a pimple! I can't get a pimple! Daeron's coming!"

"Oh, I don't think he'll mind; he'll just be so glad to see you."

"But I want to look perfect!" she wailed.

"Here, darling," Hannah put Darryn down. "Don't worry; we'll fix that right up. To the kitchen we go."

Rhian solemnly followed Hannah then watched at as the midwife ground some dried ginger with turmeric, then made a paste with some whisky, and dabbed it on her nose. "Keep applying that every couple of hours, and it should go down before he gets here."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure! Lots of women get spots when their pregnant, so I've used this for years. Works every time."

"Oh, thank the Gods. I still don't know what I'm going to wear, or if I should put my hair up or down…"

Hannah smiled at her for a few minutes, then opened her arms. "Oh, it'll be fine. I am so proud of you." She whispered, as she hugged Rhian. "You've blossomed so much since Darryn was born, and I don't think I've ever seen you so beautiful."

"Oh, aye; me with a big, fat pimple on my nose," Rhian groaned.

"Well, that too," the midwife quipped. "But you've also learned how to be strong, and happy and you have a job you love, and you're an excellent mother, despite everything that happened to you." Hannah's eyes filled. "I am so proud of you." She kissed the girl's brow. "I feel like my own daughter has come into her own."

Rhian threw her arms round her and hugged her tight. "You saved me. You taught me how to be…everything, and I couldn't love you more if you were my own mother." She whispered. "And now that you and Da are together, I know you'll be my Mam, really soon!"

"Oh, now…" Hannah cleared her throat, shyly. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Your father hasn't asked me."

"Has he told you he loves you?"

"Well, yes…"

"And you love him, you told me so, right?" Rhian grinned.

"Yes, well…" Hannah cleared her throat again. "Let's get that dinner on, shall we? I'm famished."

They prepared a nice summer salad with cold chicken, with fresh fruit. "I'm sorry for not baking anything; I was so busy cleaning, I forgot."

"Oh, goodness no! I need to watch my figure anyway. I've put on a few pounds since we moved to Dale, didn't I?"

"We're all still getting used to having actual food in our pantries," Rhian raised her eyebrows. "But you're right; though I do love to bake, especially when I'm anxious. It fills the house with spices and makes everything better."

"You're anxious?" Hannah gave her a knowing smile.

"Very! It's all different now, Hannah. I want so much… more, now, and I'm excited and frightened and… I feel like I'm meeting him for the first time. Does that make sense?"

"It does, lovey."

"I've got it all worked out… I want to be standing in the garden, so he'll find me by the irises… I'll be wearing my best afternoon dress, and my hair will be done up with ribbons, then he'll…"

"He'll what?"

She blushed. "I don't know, after that."

Hannah took her hand. "May I give you a little motherly advice?"

"Of course. I value your opinion; you know that."

"Well then, I advise you to relax and not rush things. You're not strangers, that's true enough, but in way you are, because he's been gone for a year, plus you need to get used to seeing each other in a whole new way, my dear." Hannah held both of her hands. "And you're in love. It's exciting and magical and…"

"I know! I had no idea it could be this wonderful! I mean, I love my son more than anything in the world, and I love Da, and you, but… Stars, I just… I love him, Hannah. I feel like I'm going to explode if I don't see him soon!"

"I understand, and I'm happy for you, pet. But try to relax and take things as they come."

"I'll try." She rolled her eyes.

By the next morning, the angry red spot on the side of her nose had settled into a dark pink, and Rhian breathed a sigh of relief. By the time the party came to Dale in three or four days, it would be gone.

She still felt skittish, so she and Darryn took a morning trip into the Market to buy fresh bread, and eggs. Then she re-dusted the house, re-swept the floors, and punched every pillow on the beds and smoothed the quilts down so they looked like no one had ever slept in them.

She tried knitting, while Darryn played with his toys, but she couldn't sit still, so she took the baby out to the garden, and picked a bouquet of flowers to put in several vases around the house.

"That's better! Just in time, too; it looks like it might rain."

"Wain?" Darryn scooted over to the back door. "I 'ant wain!"

"No baby; we're not going to play in the rain today. You're still getting over a cold."

"Wain!" the baby pouted. "I 'ant wain, Mama!"

She distracted him with his favorite stuffed horsie and sat down to play with his colored blocks that Ben had made for him.

That afternoon, while he was down for his nap, she went to her room and applied some more of Hannah's mixture on her nose. "Gah! It's a wonder it hasn't turned orange from the turmeric," she shrugged at her reflection. "Still, it seems to work…"

Time was still dragging on, so Rhian decided to make a spice cake, to make the house smell good. She fired up the oven and began to get the ingredients together.

Rhian puffed and waved her hands. "Wooh! It's hot in here…" She opened the windows and the doors to let in some cooler air, then began to mix things up.

She sang a little love song she had heard from Laketown as she prepared the pans with lard and flour, then once the ingredients were in the big bowl, picked it up and held it against her as she beat it with her long wooden spoon, as her eyes wandered to the garden, and looked at Daeron's purple Irises.

Rhian sighed, happily, then turned, just as she noticed the presence of an intruder in the house, and her heart nearly leaped out of her chest at the sight.

Her eyes flew open wide, and she gasped.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

Her screams filled the air as the contents in her arms went flying. "AAAAAAGH!" She instinctively threw the wooden spoon which hit the intruder square in the eye, then threw the big bowl as hard as she could. "AAAAAAAAAGH!" She screamed again, praying the neighbors would hear.

The stranger howled in pain, as cake batter splattered all over his face, hair and armor.

Armor…

Elven armor…

And he was cursing in Elvish, not Westron...

"Rhian! It is me!" The stranger held his hand over one eye and raised other hand with its palm toward her, as a gesture of peace.

Rhian froze, panting. "D-Daeron?"

"Yes! Nae, naergon! Do you not recognize me?"

"Well, no! You're covered in batter..." She studied the tall Elf. "It's really you?"

"Who did you think it would be, Hind Calen?" the Elf demanded, as he rubbed his head. "Puith man, Rhian?"

She recovered herself and grabbed a few towels and ran over to him. "Oh, look at your nice armor! It's a mess!" She nervously swiped at his chest, but it only seemed to just smear the batter around.

"Here," he held his hand out, and she handed him a clean towel, and he began to wipe his face off.

Just then they both heard a sleepy cry from the hall.

"Oh, that's Darryn; let me get him settled back down." She scooted past him and ran into the nursery, where Darryn was sitting up and frowning.

"Shhh… It's all right, sweetie." She rubbed his back, and tried to settle herself down, as he put his thumb in his mouth and laid back down. This all seemed surreal.

Once he was back asleep, she rushed back out to the kitchen, to find the tall Elf was standing at the sink with a wet cloth washing the batter off his face and attempting to wipe it out of his hair.

"Oh… What happened to your armor?" She asked.

"I have placed it by the front door. I will clean it later." His left eyebrow quirked at her curiously. "Rhian, what is on your nose?"

She reached up and felt the dried crust of the poultice, and her eyes filled with. "OH NO! NO!" She shrieked and ran over to the sink and frantically washed it off. "No, no, no no, no, no NO!"

Daeron asked with concern. "Are you all right?"

"NO, I'm NOT!" she burst in to tears, and buried her face in a clean towel. "This is a disaster!"

He was instantly at her side, and he held out his hands to touch her, but hesitated. "I am sorry I frightened you… I just…"

"But you're too early!" she wailed. "I was going to wear my best dress, and have my hair done and meet you in the garden by your flowers, and… there was s-supposed to be romantic..." she sniffed, "I was making you a c-cake and wanted to get Darryn all d-dressed up…"

She eyed him furiously. "Instead you scare the life out of me, and I've got a pimple and my hair's dirty, this dress is old, and there's batter all over my clean floor!" she leaned against the counter and slid down to the floor, and really started bawling. "Now everything's ruined! It's all ruined!"

Daeron took a step toward her. "I am sorry I ruined your plans. May I join you?" he asked gently.

"Oh, why not?" She rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. "At least the floor's clean here."

He slid down beside her, took the towel and wiped her tears. "I should have knocked, but I heard you singing and thought it was so lovely. And I came early because I was so eager to see you."

"But I tried to kill you," she moaned. "I've been waiting and waiting for you to come home, and when you finally do, I nearly poke your eyes out!"

"I am fine, although that bowl was rather heavy." He rubbed his head.

"I feel terrible, though. I guess I'm still skittish after the attack last May, and I'm here alone, and…"

Daeron winced, and instantly looked chagrined. "Oh, Rhian… It was my fault, for not realizing that. Of course, you are easily startled," he looked down at his knees. "I truly did not mean to frighten you; I never want you to be frightened of me."

"Oh, I know," She sighed. "It's just that…well…" she swept her arm out at the mess, "this was NOT how I envisioned things happening. Not at all! I really wanted everything to be special, you know?"

He picked up her hand and kissed her palm. "I do know," he met her eyes, and grinned. "But just think, Hind Calen: will this not be a wonderful story to tell our grandchildren?"

She stared at him in surprise, then a slow smile crept across her face. Then she began to giggle.

He smiled down at her, and snickered, and soon, they both were helpless with laughter. Rhian's tears of frustration were soon replaced with tears of happiness and humor and she leaned her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her and they continued their hysterics. Just as one of them calmed down, the other would start up again, and by the time they were finished, she gasping.

"Stop! Stop! My sides hurt!" she giggled and crossed her arms across her stomach. But she still couldn't hold back another fit of laughter.

Eventually they calmed down, then became very quiet, and she looked up into his greenish-blue eyes.

Daeron was here, and he was warm and solid and real, and she suddenly realized all her romantic notions were silly, because she loved this Elf, and he loved her, and that was all that really mattered.

And she was completely sure she loved him. A small part of her had been afraid that, once he returned, she would realize her feelings weren't what she thought they were, but no; she loved this wonderful, silly, kind Elf with every fiber of her being, with her whole heart.

"I love you, Daeron." She whispered softly.

She wanted to say it first, because he deserved that. He had held back his feelings, out of kindness and consideration for her, and would have kept them to himself forever, if that's what she needed. He loved her enough to live without her, as long as she was happy. Daeron deserved to hear it from her first, so he would never doubt her feelings, never doubt her love. He deserved to hear it from her every day for the rest of their lives together.

And when she said the words, the look on his face was worth everything they had been through to find their way to this moment. Rhian reached up and stroked his cheek, still a bit sticky from the cake batter. He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand and sighed. Rhian could see in his face that his dreams, his hopes finally, finally come true. He could not speak just then, though the tear escaped from the corner of one of his eyes, said everything.

"I love you." Rhian gently wiped it away. "I love you so much."

The Elf opened his eyes again and stared at her in wonder. "Gi melin, Rhian. Ci velethron e-guil nîn…" He swallowed, and she could feel his hands tremble. "May I kiss you, Hind Calen?"

Of course, he would ask her permission. This wonderful, kind being had seen her at her most vulnerable; the first time they met, she was covered in bruises from her late husband, Garth, and frightened of her own shadow. He had been so patient, and not once did he ask her for than she could give. She looked deeply into his eyes and saw the depth of feeling he had held for her, and she her heart nearly burst with happiness that she honestly could return his love.

"No." She shook her head.

"No?" His head jerked back in surprise.

"No," she gave him a small smile, "you may not kiss me. Because I want to kiss you,"

His eyes widened, and he gasped softly, as she turned her body around to face him, and slowly moved toward him. Their lips hesitated, just before touching, and suddenly her eyes filled with tears.

This was the beginning. The true beginning of their life together, and neither one of them would ever be the same.

Softly, her lips touched his, and she kissed him slowly. Then kissed him softly, again. And again. His hands reached up and stroked her cheeks, then her hair.

She pulled back, and he lowered his brow to hers and grinned. "Now that was better than I'd imagined." His eyes were still closed.

"Really," she chuckled. "I'll bet we can do even better." Then her lips were on his again, and the gentle sweetness was replaced with eagerness and passion. Daeron whimpered in surprise and pleasure, and she could feel his arms reach out to hold her, as she deepened the kiss. When her tongue sought entrance to his mouth, he gladly granted it and let out a low moan as they plundered each other with the hardest, longest, best kiss of her entire life.

So, this is what it can be like, she thought. After that, she couldn't think at all, because she was lost in the sensation of his hands, his arms, his lips and their tongues dancing together, and she was swept into a whirlpool of joy and desire. Oh, it was glorious!

Finally, they broke apart, both panting and looked at each other with wonder.

"I did not know kisses could be like this," he murmured.

"Neither did I," she smiled up at him, and buried her face in his neck, and they held each other for several minutes, reveling in their closeness, the feel of his strong arms around her, and never in her entire life did she feel so safe, and so loved.

Just then, the loud clap of thunder could be heard.

"Ai gorgor!" Daeron groaned. "I left Turamarth's horse outside!" He sighed, reluctantly let go of her, and gracefully got to his feet, then held out his hand to pull her up into a standing position.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, and smiled up at him. "Go, then. Once Tur's horse is taken care of, then get yourself cleaned up. I'll make us all some dinner, and Darryn will be up by the time you get back.

His eyes lit up at the mention of the baby's name. "That would be wonderful! I want to see him…" he leaned down to kiss her again. "And I have missed you, Hind Calen. You make me so happy."

After another long, lingering kiss, she pushed him away, laughing. "Go, before poor Sandastan gets soaked. Then get right back here, yeah?"

She walked him to the door, as he grabbed his armor from the entrance, and kissed her again, but this time it was chaste.

"I shall be back, soon, Meleth nîn." He cupped her cheek, then turned walked down the porch steps toward Turamarth's horse, just as it began to rain.

Rhian closed the door and leaned against it, with a happy sigh. Things had not worked out the way she planned at all…

But Daeron was right; this was much better.

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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:

Mellyn nîn – My friends

Gwinnig – Beloved maid

Niftoroghû – Troll-faced dog

Hind Calen – "Green Eyes," Daeron's pet name for Rhian

Nae, naergon! – Alas, Lament!

Puith man, Rhian? – What the fuck, Rhian?

Gi melin, Rhian. – I love you, Rhian.

Ci velethron e-guil nîn… - You are the love of my life…

Ai, gorgor! Oh no! Horrors!

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