Chapter Sixteen
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SUMMARY: Feren enjoys the delights of parenting his two golden girls, while he lets his wife sleep in.
The quarantine has been lifted and not only can the children go back to school, but Tilda can see her brother and sister! Even her teachers came to visit.
Bard shares a special moment with his oldest daughter, much to the delight of everyone guarding the Royal Wing.
Bard notices that the pictures on the mantle have been joined by several new ones.
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The Woodland Realm; 10th of February, 2942, T.A.
Feren woke up, with a soft, warm arm over his stomach. Glélindë's head was snuggled into his shoulder, so he raised his arm and pulled her closer, and kissed the top of her auburn head. He sighed contentedly, closed his eyes again, hoping to get a little more sleep, when the door opened, and a little, curly-haired body tore into the room and crawled on the bed.
"Ooof!" He exclaimed, as Dafina landed on his stomach. "When did you get to be so big, Mallen Ant? Did you grow in your sleep again?" He began to tickle her, and her giggles caused his wife to begin to stir.
"Nana!" Dafina pounced on her mother with delight.
"Good morning, Sweet One." 'Lindë yawned and stretched her arms. "I see you are awake; how is your ear?"
Dafina put her hand on her left ear and smiled again. "Better. No sniffle!"
"Is that so? Let me see, Mîr nîn…"
Feren sat up, and managed to wrangle the wiggly child into his lap. Then felt her forehead. "You do not feel warm. I think you are better, child." He got out of bed, and carried her around to his wife's side of the bed. "Let us allow your Nana to sleep a bit more." He leaned down and gave 'Lindë a kiss. "We'll make breakfast."
Glélindë moved to get up. "I can do it…"
"And deny me a chance to play with my girls? You are most cruel, wife." He looked at Dafina. "Your Nana does not want us to play; is she not mean?"
"Ada! Nana's not mean; she's nice!" The tot crossed her arms. I yove her!"
"Ah, well, I suppose she is acceptable. Shall we give her a nice breakfast in bed, to thank her for looking after my golden girls?"
"Aye!" Dafina clapped her hands, then pointed to her mother with a stern look. "You 'tay dere," she ordered.
"You will not hear me argue with that." 'Lindë snuggled back down, and winked at her husband.
Feren put the little girl down, and said, "Go get your sister up, so we can get started." With a pat on her behind, she scampered off.
Then the Commander sat on the bed, and kissed his wife good morning properly.
"Mmmm," she said. "Now, that is a greeting I can never get enough of."
He looked down at his lovely wife, and stroked his fingers over her cheeks, "I love you very much."
'Lindë's dimple appeared, as she smiled back. "Are you happy, Meleth nîn?"
"Perfectly. But I am always happy when I am with you." He grinned.
She sat up, "How was Thranduil, yesterday? I did not get a chance to ask you; it gets so busy here."
Feren's face sobered. "I am sorry for what he is going through. He just found happiness again, and this seems cruel. He looked so…tired, 'Lindë."
"He and Bard have each other, and that is more than we could have wished for. And the child will recover; I was afraid her loss would break him."
"I was afraid of that, too. He has been making an effort to speak of things with Galion, and that is something he has not done, before Bard came into his life."
"That is good news. Galion will help him." she put her hand on his face. "I feel selfish, Feren. I am sorry Princess Tilda got so sick, but I am more relieved our own children are well."
He took her hand and kissed it. "You are not selfish, Meleth. Or if you are, then I am, as well, because it was all I could think about. Thranduil and I talked about those joys and perils; I love our girls, but I fear for them, too. I fear for ourselves, should something happen. Thranduil said we would worry, regardless of whether our children were Human or Elven."
"We would. But we have today, and it is good." She smiled again.
"It is very good." Feren looked deep into her captivating grey eyes. "Gi Melin, Glélindë," he smiled, and bent his head down, to kiss her again, this time, much deeper and more passionately.
'Lindë's arms made their way around his neck, and she pulled him in even more, as she opened her mouth to him, so their tongues could dance. Feren's hand made its way into her nightgown to cup her breast, and rub his thumb around her nipple, causing it to perk up into a hard pebble. Her breath caught, and her moan caused a stirring in his loins. She tightened her arms and pulled him even closer.
"I wish I would have woken up earlier…" He groaned into her mouth. "Suddenly I can think of a much better breakfast..." His hand now worked his way up her thigh, reaching for her hot, wet…
A loud clang was heard from the kitchen, just then.
"ADA! AWIS IS TWYING TO 'TOOK!" he heard Dafina yell.
"Tattle-tale!" They heard Alis's indignant reply. "I wanted to surprise them!"
Feren grinned down at his wife, who said, "This was your idea, Meleth nîn."
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Once the girls had given their mother her breakfast (with Feren carrying the tray), they settled down at the table with him and their grandfather.
"Do you yike it, Grandda? I 'tooked it all by mysewf!" Dafina announced proudly.
"Oh, Aye, dearie." Poor Gruffudd looked at his toast with its thick, uneven blobs of butter. He nibbled on a corner of it, "Mmmm," he said, and her face lit up. "What a feast you've made for me, love!"
Feren hid a smile, then distracted her, while Gruffudd surreptitiously scraped the excess butter off, and he ate it quickly.
"Can we go outside today, Ada?" Alis asked.
"Ooh! Outside!" Davina clapped her hands. "I wanna pet da horsies!"
"I am sorry, but you have just gotten over a cold, Mallen Ant, and we must stay in our home, for a few more days, like the King says."
Alis looked at her Ada, thoughtfully. "Because Tilda got so sick?"
"Yes, Glawariel. King Thranduil and the Healers need to make sure you do not get sick like that, and we must always do as our King commands, must we not?" He patted his oldest daughter's blonde curls. "Do not worry, we will find things to do and to play."
"I know! You 'tan be da horsie, and we 'tan wide you!" Dafina suggested.
The girls turned their wide, blue eyes full blast on him, and made sure to give him their most angelic smiles. "Please, Ada?"
Feren's response was a loud neigh.
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The Woodland Realm, 14th of February, 2942, T.A.
Tilda was much the same the next three days, and the two Kings took turns sitting with her as the rest of the family peeked in with a friendly wave. When Bard and Thranduil weren't sitting at her bedside, they were keeping the other children busy, often running around with them in the King's garden to work off their energy, or sitting at the table and helping them keep up with their lessons.
Hilda found the quarantine a great opportunity to catch up on rest, paperwork and update Bard, regarding his subjects staying in the Realm. She and Galion enjoyed going outside, too. As the two walked through the stone paths, he would tell her what was under the covered beds, and they exchanged ideas for Bard's Castle Gardens, and other places in Dale.
Daeron and Meriel worked their shifts and carefully monitored Tilda, who showed no signs of relapse. Yesterday, Daeron officially pronounced her out of danger, and the quarantine was lifted. The danger of Tilda's illness was past, but he still ordered the isolation, with the gowns and masks, for another two weeks, until her resistance was built up again.
Another sign of progress (especially to Tilda's mind), was that she was sometimes strong enough to sit in the privy by herself, if someone carried her to it, and as long as she hung on to something. She was awake for longer periods of time, and liked nothing better than snuggling up with her Da, and her Ada.
She was back on solid foods, particularly greens, meats, and eggs to get her strength back up, mostly served in hearty soups. Daeron's mother, Idril, and her kitchen staff sent some special desserts, along with their best wishes. She still didn't have much of an appetite, so the little tarts with the crusts made in the shapes of flowers or leaves, were a wonderful treat, but only after she finished her soup and milk.
Two days ago, the Tailor's guild presented them all with a stack of clean, pink robes for the family to wear when they visited Tilda, which improved her spirits. They made masks, for them to wear, with ties along the top and bottom, which was easier than kerchiefs. As promised, Glélindë had made a surprise for her; a little robe and mask for Charlotte, and even one for Daisy!
When they arrived, Meriel helped Tilda dress her toys in their sickroom finery, and they pretended Charlotte was a Healer who was treating Daisy's broken hoof.
To everyone's surprise, Bain didn't mind at all wearing pink. He was just glad to see his little sister, and was eager to read, talk or just about anything she was up for.
Tilda became upset when her siblings and Auntie Hil still wore the masks, so Thranduil sat down with the children at the table, and helped them paint colorful, silly smiles on them, to cheer her up. Sigrid wanted to know why Bard didn't have to wear one, but Daeron explained that 'Tilda needed to see her father; she would do better.' It wasn't a lie, but she asked no further questions, thankfully.
Thank the Valar, Tilda could still see, and hear just as well as she could before. When she spoke, her speech was clear and concise, not slurred at all.
But she was changed.
She was still very weak, and they noticed her left side was weaker than her right. It was early days, yet, but she had difficulty remembering things. Tilda sometimes couldn't remember what she ate at her last meal, or who her last visitor was, and it frightened her, often to tears. She struggled with proper names of things or people, and her hands lacked some coordination. Bard and the others helped her with her cups, she needed help to hold her spoon, but they made sure not to push her, just yet.
It was a bit startling to witness Tilda's rapid mood swings, which was worse when she was tired. She'd be smiling and happy, then become frustrated and burst into tears of fury, and need to be soothed. She was frightened, and no one could blame her; they were all frightened, too.
It would be a long time, before they could know if this was only temporary, or if she'd never be her sunny little self, again. All they could do was love her, and wait.
When Mistress Bronwyn came to see her, for a short visit, she brought Miss Eryn, the teacher from Tilda's age group. Her little face lit up, when she saw them, and began to struggle to remember their names.
As instructed, they introduced themselves, and pretended like this was perfectly normal.
"What a beautiful little room you have here!" Her teacher said. "The children want me to tell you they miss you and hope you're feeling better soon. Here." Miss Eryn handed her a stack of papers. "They have made these drawings to cheer you up."
Tilda took them, and together, they looked at some of them, as she smiled. "I like them."
"We could have them put up on the wall here, so you can see them, what do you think?"
She nodded. "Pretty."
"I'll see your Auntie Hil and we'll take care of it."
"Can I draw?"
"Sure, you can, love. I know you love to make pictures. I'll see about that, too."
Tilda smiled and nodded. "I have a…" she screwed up her face and tried to think. "Ada gave me –"
"Lord Galion told me you have a new desk, is that what you mean?"
She nodded, relieved.
Bronwyn smiled. "I heard it was lovely, but you might be in bed for a while, so, maybe we can find you a little tray, so you can draw or write. What do you think about that?" She patted the little girl's leg.
Tilda nodded her head. "I got sick."
"Aye, that you did, love," Bronwyn nodded. "We're so glad you're getting better." The women got up, and made ready to leave. "We'll get this all set up for you, so make sure you get your rest." They waved goodbye to Tilda, and curtsied to King Bard, who was just entering, with his gown on.
"Are you tired, Little Bean? You've had a big day." Bard was taking his place on the bed beside her, so she could cuddle into him.
"A little," she sighed.
After they talked for a short while, he put his arms around her. "Get some sleep, now." He stroked her hair and sang her a lullaby, until her eyes closed, and her breath became even.
Bard very gently extricated himself from the bed, and tucked her in with a kiss to her forehead. Hilda had just gotten her gown on, and sat down. "You go on and have some time to yourself. I'm here, now."
Bard reached down and kissed her cheek. "You always are, and we love you for it. Where's Thranduil?"
"He's in his office. Dáin sent another bird this morning, wanting an update."
"Oh, good." Bard agreed with Thranduil - messages via Raven was genius. They were exchanging daily updates, so Bard could be assured that his Kingdom was holding together, and the folks in Dale could be assured the worst of the sickness had past, and no other child had suffered. Dáin's note yesterday sent along his best wishes to "Dale's little diplomat."
Today, the children went back to school, and were now at their afternoon activities. The King of Dale stepped across the hall and into his husband's study. Thranduil looked up from this work and smiled. "Meleth nîn! How is our Tithen Pen?"
"Napping. Hilda's sitting with her now; Sigrid's in the Healing Hall and Daeron's doing the boys' archery lesson." Bard looked through to the adjoining room. "Where's Galion?"
"He is taking the day off. I insisted. He has worked hard to help us get through this, and he needs some rest and solitude, though he will not admit it."
"So…" Bard grinned at his Elf. "We're alone?" he asked, as he closed both doors, and locked them.
"So, it would seem. For a little while, at least." Thranduil came around and gathered the Bowman into his arms. "Is there something you need from me?" he nibbled on Bard's earlobe, then placed warm wet kisses up and down his neck.
"Yep. You." He grinned, before he grabbed the back of the Elf's neck and kissed him, deep and hard.
"You feel so good, Meleth nîn." Thranduil moaned, and rubbed their hips together, as their breathing became heavier.
"How can I ever sit in this room again and not think of us together?" The Elvenking began to nuzzle his neck.
Bard snickered, "Will you get anything done, when you see your desk, now? I can see you over on the couches, trying to have a meeting, and all you're thinking about is how you fucked me on it."
"Galion will surely wonder why I will have such a grin on my face."
"No, he won't." Bard laughed. "He'll know exactly why. Stars, he puts up with a lot, doesn't he?"
Yesterday they had gotten so carried away, that Bard swiped his arm and cleared it off in one graceful movement, before he threw Thranduil on his back and had his way with him. It was wild and romantic, yes, but it also took Thranduil nearly an hour to reorganize all the stacks of paper, and he was thankful he had put the inkpots away. After that, Thranduil kept most items stacked on his credenza, just in case.
"Do you think anybody besides Galion knows what goes on in here?" Bard whispered, as he began to fasten up his leggings.
The Elvenking laughed. "I am sure the only ones who do not, are the children, and I wonder if Sigrid may suspect. But better this than where Tilda could see and hear. We want her to recover, do we not?" Once his robes were restored, he gathered the Bowman into his arms, and began to kiss him, thoroughly.
"Better stop that," Bard whispered against his lips, "or we'll be going at each other again."
"I have no objections to that," said the Elf, "but it is time for the children to return from their afternoon lessons, and they will be looking for us." He looked into Bard's eyes with sadness. "You must return to your Kingdom soon, Meleth nîn, though I hate to think of it."
"I know, love." He sighed. "So far, Percy's handling things, and now that Feren is back there, I feel a bit better, but… there's so much to do in Dale, and hardly enough time to get it all done… I can't stay more than another week, but then I have to get back. I hope Tilda can handle it."
"We are Kings, and we often have to choose between our families and our Kingdoms, but I wonder, in this case, if you cannot do both."
Bard sighed. "I can't even come on my scheduled visit in two weeks; it wouldn't be fair to the other men."
"You are mistaken, I think. 'Kinging' is a demanding job, yes, but you are the King, and I think you could come anyway, even if you only stay a day or two. In fact, I think we should start our agreement to not separate for more than two weeks immediately."
"Now?"
"You and I need this, Bard. We are stronger and better this way, and that can only benefit our people. Most important, our Tilda will feel stronger, too, if she knows she will see you soon. She needs you, and obligations to family shows your people how important such things are. You are setting the example for the kind of behavior you expect from them." Thranduil kissed him. "You should come, Meleth nîn."
Bard considered this. "Aye, you're right. I wouldn't have to worry about the cold; it doesn't seem to bother me so much anymore. I just don't want anyone thinking I'm being selfish, and starting to act like the old Master. As much as the men seem to like me, it wouldn't take much for them to stop trusting me; not enough time has gone by, yet."
"I doubt anyone will think you are abusing your power, Meleth nîn. Suppose a child from one of your men were that ill? You would send him packing and tell him to stay as long as he needs to, would you not?"
"I would do that, but…"
"To ease your concern, write to Percy - have him see how your men feel. I would not be surprised if they insist you stay longer. When you do return, as I know you must, send Percy on his visit. It will do a great deal to cheer Tilda, and I think our Hilda needs to see him, too. She is much like Galion; she looks after all of us, often at her own expense."
"I'll do that. The wagons will be leaving in five days, I think; I'll return with them, and send Percy. Old Ben will the coming, too - Rhian would like that.
"Good. Rhian would benefit from seeing Master Ben. We should go to see her and the child soon, as well. Hannah and Indis tell me she is doing much better. Our visit should not distress her."
"I also think I should take care of some unpleasant business, as long as I'm here."
"Are you referring to your prisoners?"
"Aye. Alun's come up with a proposition, to dispense with the situation, and as long as I'm here, I might as well put it to them."
"Oh? What is that?" Thranduil asked, so Bard told him of his and Alun's conversation a couple of weeks ago, of sending them off to Bree.
"Bree?" Thranduil laughed. "Punishment, indeed! But it certainly would be better than being the King who threw old ladies in a dungeon. He is right, Meleth nîn. You would damage your standing if you did this."
"It was a smart idea, wasn't it?"
"Alun's solution makes good sense. When I spoke with him during his visit, I was impressed, with him, Bard; he will make an excellent member of your Council. As far as the women; I suggest that you see them, yes, but say nothing of their sentence. Do not give them time to think about it."
"Mmmm…. Even better." Bard smiled and nuzzled his nose against Thranduil's.
"Of course, I will abide by your decision, My King." The Elf smiled, and moved his lips over Bard's softly, so that it tickled.
"Thank you, My King." Said Bard, before he plunged his tongue into his husband's mouth. They kissed for several long, satisfying minutes, then reluctantly broke apart.
"I would love to have you again, Meleth nîn, but it is time for the children to come home."
"Children… Oh, that's right. We have children, don't we?" Bard's eyes were closed, and he was enjoying Thranduil's lips on his neck.
"We do." Thranduil pulled back and turned Bard around and smacked him on the bottom. "Stop being a temptation."
Bard answered by blowing him a raspberry, and wiggling his arse.
"Very attractive."
Thranduil was closing the study door behind them, just as Sigrid, Bain and Rhys returned from their afternoon activities, followed by Daeron.
"Suilad, Aran nîn, Brannon nîn," the Guard saluted the kings.
Bard returned the greeting, then said, "Tilda's napping, but she seems to be having a good day, so far."
"Excellent news, My Lord." Daeron turned to Sigrid. "Shall we wash, and examine her?"
The young lady nodded eagerly, but then looked guilty. "I hate that Tilda got so sick, but I'm learning a lot."
Thranduil put his arm around her. "It is wise to gather such knowledge where you can, Iellig. That is no sin. It also helps you learn focus, does it not?"
Sigrid nodded. "Elénaril tells me to 'shut it off.' It could be dangerous, if I don't, so it's good to practice that with Tilda."
"I agree." Daeron nodded, as they followed the Kings into their chambers.
"Does anyone have homework?" Bard asked. "We'll be eating in the Dining Hall tonight; Galion is taking the day off, so get it done now, yeah?"
"I've got a lot, but I'm really hungry!" Bain groaned.
"Do you have time to take Esta outdoors?"
Both boys shook their heads, so Thranduil whistled, and sent the dog out with a guard for some exercise.
"I have homework, too, but I want to examine Tilda first. Daeron, are you staying with her while we eat?"
"I am. Come, let us wash and gown up. I want you to take the lead, this time."
Sigrid smiled and nodded eagerly. "Just as long as you check her, too."
"Of course." Daeron agreed, and they left the room.
Bard turned to his hungry son, as the boys sat down at the table with their books and writing implements. "There's fruit on the side board, boys. Will that do you?"
"Aye, thanks. I'm glad were eating in the Dining Hall, tonight. After all this, I think it'll be good for our people to see us."
"You are thinking like a Prince, and this pleases your Da and me." Thranduil told him. "You are correct. Your people need to see their King and his family, so we can assure them personally of Tilda's improvement, and your own good health."
Bain smiled at Thranduil. "Thanks, Ada. Well, sooner started with this, sooner done. I never thought I would say this, but I was glad to go back to class, even if I do have lots of work to do. It feels good to get back to a normal routine after..." The boy looked at his fathers, sheepishly. "Is it terrible to say I wasn't just afraid for Tilda, but for myself? I was scared I would get sick, too."
"No, son. It's not. I think it's perfectly reasonable. No one would wish it." Bard looked at Rhys, too. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, My Lord. I'm just happy that she's doing well."
"You've got your own room back; I'll be that's a relief." Bard smiled.
Rhys shrugged. "I didn't mind. Daeron needed to stay close by, and Bain's bed is huge. These are the nicest rooms I've ever been in; so it didn't' much matter. How long do you think it will be before Tilda can go back to school?"
Thranduil shook his head. "I have no idea. But we will be tutoring her here until she is strong enough. We still need to discover the effects of her illness, so we need to be work around that."
Bain looked up. "If she can't keep up with her class just yet, she would be happy to be around her friends. It might do her good, when she's ready."
The Kings looked at each other. "You've got a point there." Bard said. "Now, you're thinking like a good big brother. He smiled at the boys. "Take your own advice and get your work done."
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The Royal Family's presence in the Dining Hall was a welcome one. Bard and the children went to every table and visited with them, so they could wish Tilda well, and speak of their experience here.
Thranduil sat back in his seat and watched, as Bard smiled at chatted with his people. He wasn't just paying lip service for the sake of appearances; he genuinely wanted to make sure his subjects were faring well. And there was Bain right beside him, asking questions and listening. Even Rhys was there, supporting his best friend, much like Feren did with Thranduil, most of his life. Bain will need someone like Rhys, especially after he became King.
He could see Sigrid, at another table, smiling and talking with a group of women and Elves. Of course, they were asking about Tilda, but their fathers had instructed the children to only speak in general terms, not specifics. Yes, she is getting better every day; thank you for asking. Of course, we'll send along our good wishes; you are very kind….
A rush of pride and affection flowed through his heart. This beautiful man was his. These children were his. His eyes stung a little, as he, once more, sent up his thanks to Mírelen for her help. He didn't deserve any of this, but that was the wonderful thing about love, wasn't it? No one could earn it; it just was.
Hilda came and sat down beside him, and they both watched Bard for a few minutes. "I am glad we came here, tonight," he told her.
"Aye. Those people need him, and he needs to see them, just as much. He's a good man, like his Da was."
"I agree, My Lady. I have long known that a good ruler has little to do with bloodlines; it comes from a character and temperament one is born with. It also helps to have good people to help nurture it. From what I have heard, his father was a credit to his family, and to his people."
"Aye. Brand was the best of men, and all Bard ever wanted, was to be like him." Hilda said. "I wish you could have known him, love. You'd have felt the same way."
"I would have enjoyed knowing Brand, but you and Percy deserve much credit for Bard's success, as well." He smiled at the older woman. "You and your husband are to Bard what Galion is to me: a solid foundation, for all the things we need to be, especially when Kingship demands more than we can bear. You have taken my husband in, and loved him like a son, and I am grateful." He kissed her hand.
Hilda cleared her throat and smiled, as her eyes filled. "Stop that, you. I refuse to blubber in front of all these people."
Then she became thoughtful, and said, "I don't know if Bard ever knew, but Brand asked us to look after his boy, in case something happened to him. Maybe he knew Bard was destined for greatness, beyond their life in Laketown. Or, maybe he knew he wouldn't be with us, much longer. You'll never convince me that Brand died of a 'natural causes.' We think the Master had him killed, because the folks of Laketown were turning to him for help more and more."
Thranduil's eyes widened. "Surely not!"
The woman shook her head, sadly. "Aye. No one will convince me different. Folks weren't nearly as stupid as the Master liked to think they were, and they knew a good leader when they saw one. Whatever he hoped to gain, if he did kill Brand, didn't work out for him, anyway, so Brand died for nothing."
"What do you mean?"
"When Bard's Da passed, no one looked to the Master - they looked to Bard. Brand's death only made everyone revere him, as a martyr. A lot of folks were suspicious about his death, so it made them more determined to look out for Bard, and protect him, when the Master's men were harassing him."
"Working together like this made your people stronger and closer, do you not think? As sad as it sounds, perhaps Brand did not die for nothing." Thranduil suggested. "A great deal of good came as a result of the Master's treachery."
Hilda sat back and thought about it, then she smiled. "You're right. By the time the Dragon came, we'd learned work together, and really rely on each other. That helped us survive when we all washed ashore that day. I think Brand would be pleased and proud of all of us, not just his son."
Thranduil put his hand on hers, and gave it a squeeze. "I think so, as well. Does Bard look much like his father?"
"Oh, yes, just like Bain is the image of his own Da."
"Bard told me his mother passed from a fever when he was young."
"She did. Our own Sigrid was named for her, did you know that? She was a wonderful woman." Then she told him, "Bard wasn't an only child, you know."
"He was not?" Thranduil was surprised. "He never said anything about having a brother or a sister."
"Brand and his wife had a daughter, who died when she was a baby. I didn't know them then, but I had heard the baby never really thrived. Something with her little heart, poor thing. Died before she was a year old. Later, after we became friends with Brand, she'd gotten pregnant again, and lost it in her second month and his Sigrid took it hard."
"What was she like?"
"I see a lot of her in Tilda. Our baby likes to step back and look things over before she can know what to think about something. She gets that from her Grandma. She was a kind gentle soul; never feisty, just sweet. She was tiny, like Tilda, and the midwife wondered if that's why she had trouble carrying babies. When she was carrying again, the they kept her on bed rest most of the time, and Brand took on any extra work he could, to buy milk and good food." Hilda smiled. "It paid off, because she gave birth to our strapping healthy boy, who was his parent's pride and joy."
"Does Bard know about the other children?"
Hilda nodded, "Oh, aye. But, he doesn't think about it, much. Our Bard's not one to ruminate over things he can't do anything about."
Thranduil smiled. "That sounds like him." He looked across the Dining Hall again, and observed his husband, who happened to look up and meet his gaze. Thranduil's heart squeezed, and he sighed.
Hilda who was watching him, snickered. "Besotted, the both of you." She laughed.
"We are, indeed," he replied with a smile.
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After everyone returned to their chambers, it was almost time for baths and bed, so Thranduil went in to sit with Tilda, while Bard went to Children's apartment, to supervise their nighttime ablutions. After boys had bathed and went to their rooms, Sigrid came out in her robe, and towel-drying her hair. She sat with Bard on the couch so she could comb it out.
He put his arm around her. "It was a good day."
"It was. It'll be even better when Tilda's strong again. I refuse to believe she won't be."
Bard took the comb from her and helped her with her hair, like he did when she was little. "Remember what Uncle Percy says: 'One foot in front of the other,' so that's what we'll do." He smiled at her. "Your Ada and I spoke about me coming again in couple of weeks, so I can see how Tilda is doing."
"Can you do that?" she asked hopefully.
"I think I should; for a day or two. It helps Tilda to see me, and right now, that's the most important thing."
"Does Uncle Percy know everything with Tilda?"
"I haven't written him, but I'm sure your Auntie Hil has. Thranduil did, too." Bard sighed. "Better them than me."
"Why?"
"Because…" he struggled to find the words. "I can't stand the idea of seeing words like that on paper. I'm like you; I have to believe she's the same old Tilda. If I write it down, then…all I fear could be real."
Sigrid's lip wobbled, and she nodded.
Bard gathered her into his arms, and rested his chin on her head. "Like you said, love, whatever happens, we'll hold each other up, and get through it." He kissed her hair. "She has so many people who love her fiercely. How could she not get better?"
Sigrid, nodded, "We're so lucky to have Daeron's help. And Ada's."
"Maybe 'luck' isn't the right word. 'Blessed' is better."
"Aye. We're blessed." Sigrid dabbed her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. Then she laughed. "I almost expect Ada to appear with his handkerchief."
"There's never an Elf around when you need one."
"Ada's always around when we need him." The girl snuggled into Bard. "We all love him, Da, I want you to know that."
"Makes things convenient, doesn't it?"
Sigrid giggled a little. "It was wonderful when he danced with me at my birthday party, but we both wished you could be there. I wanted a dance with you, too."
Bard kissed her hair then got up, and held his hand out. "Come on."
He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, led her out the door, and into the wide hallway. He gave her a formal bow, "May I have this dance, My Lady?"
Sigrid giggled, and curtsied in her robe and slippers, "I would be very honored, My King."
The King of Dale gathered his daughter into his arms, and began to sing a lovely Laketown tune as they danced. The Elven Guards were smiling, as they watched father and daughter take a turn on the smooth, polished floor, with Bard holding her hand close to his heart. Sigrid laughed, and put her feet on top of his, just like she did when she was little.
"I love you, Da." She said, as she laid her head on his chest.
"I love you more." He pulled back and twirled her around, only to gather her up to him again, and the swaying continued.
When the song ended, Bard dipped his daughter gracefully, and they were rewarded with spontaneous applause by every Guard on the Royal Wing.
The King and the Princess bowed gracefully to their captive audience, then went back in, so Bard could tuck her into bed.
"Thanks for the dance, Da." She held her arms up so he could hug her. "That was magic."
"Oh, I think the magic came from the beautiful girl in my arms." He said as he his arms squeezed her tight, before he kissed her brow, again. "Good night, love."
"Good night, Da."
After he left Sigrid's room, he tiptoed into Bain's room, took his book and put it on the bedside table. After he pulled the covers up and turned down the lamp, he sat on the bed and watched his son sleep for a moment, before he brushed a light kiss on Bain's brow. He made sure to quietly close the door behind him.
Rhys was still up, when he peeked in. "Are you all right?" Bard asked.
Rhys sat up a little more, and put his book down. "I'm fine, My Lord. I was just reading this book Bain gave me. I can't put it down!"
Bard walked over and sat on the bed, as Rhys handed it to him.
"I looked at this some, on my first trip here. I like reading stories about Dale, too."
"Bain says it's exciting, because all those Kings are his grandfathers! I can hardly imagine it!"
Bard tilted his head, "Oh, I don't know… Your Da tells me your family came from Dale, too. Who's to say that one of others mentioned in the book isn't an ancestor of yours? You never know."
The boy's eyes widened. "That would be great!"
"Did Daeron ever tell you he knew King Girion personally? You should ask him, about it, sometime. You should also ask Thranduil. He knew all my grandfathers in Dale. Every single one."
"Really?" Rhys squeaked.
Bard laughed. "Oh, believe me, it's hard to wrap your head around. But it's true."
"Did you ever ask him about it?" Rhys was curious.
"Not yet. Everything he knows is in this book, anyway."
"How do you know?"
Bard smiled at the boy, and opened the front of it, and showed him the title page. "Look."
Rhys leaned over and read, "'Written by Thranduil Oropherion, King of the Woodland Realm.' Wow." He breathed.
"Wow, indeed. He's written several more on the history of the Northern Kingdoms. I'm glad you enjoy history, Rhys. Understanding the past, and where we come from, helps you know who you are, and who you want to become."
Rhys nodded, then said, "I want to be just like my Da."
"I like your Da. He's a good and honest man, and Dale needs more men like him. I'm glad you're proud of him, and I know he's proud of you. He told me you had a good visit."
"Oh, we did! I miss him, a lot, but I'm really glad to be here. There's so much to do! And I really like staying here, with Bain." he said, shyly. "I'm glad King Thranduil took me away from Grandma and Aunt Iola."
"I'm sorry you went through that, Rhys. and I know your Da is, too. Are you all right, now?"
The boy smiled, and nodded. "I was really scared, and didn't know what to do, but King Thranduil was really nice. People say he can be really mean and scary but he's not like that! He took me to the Healer, and helped me when I was scared to go in. He stayed with me and after, he helped put the salve on my back, where I couldn't reach."
Bard leaned forward and whispered, conspiratorially, "King Thranduil can be very scary, when he wants to be, but he's a handy Elf to have around."
The boy looked down. "I'm sorry I got so mad at Bain, My Lord. He was only trying to help me... I'm glad he told somebody."
"I understand, Rhys. And all that matters, is that you're better and you're safe. No worries." Bard winked, and stood up. "I know you like your book, but it's time to put it away and get some sleep, son." He put the book on the table, and tucked Rhys in, then put out the lamp. "Have a good sleep, now," he said, ruffling his hair.
"I will, My Lord. Thank you." Rhys closed his eyes and rolled over. "Good night."
Bard gently closed the boy's door, made sure the lamp was burning low in the children's privy, then made his way into his own chambers. He stepped over to the big fireplace and looked at the mantelpiece. He smiled when he saw the pictures of Legolas and Tauriel had now been joined by several additional small pictures in lovely wooden frames.
Bard grinned, as he held the one with Tilda, sleeping on Galion's couch, her little face was angelic in its repose, and there was Charlotte, clutched in her arms. And the blanket was in disarray around her; she even kicked her legs while napping.
He put it back in its place, and studied the picture of Bain. There he was standing casually; holding his practice sword down at his side, laughing at something Rhys had said. Thranduil had captured the boy's natural exuberance and energy, along with his lopsided grin. Rhys's profile showed a him grinning with mischief.
And there was Sigrid. She was sitting on the couch, next to Hilda, one leg tucked under, knitting. Somehow Thranduil managed to sketch the motion of her hands, and that little pout she does, when she's concentrating. There was even a sketch of Hilda and Galion, sitting at the table, planning something over a map or outline of something. Those two complimented each other: Galion was like Percy – always calm and observant, whereas Hilda was always ready to jump in the fray and get things done.
They were his family now, and Thranduil had captured what he loved most about each of them.
Bard gave the pictures one last look, then made his way into the nursery, to see their youngest daughter, who, thank the Valar, wouldn't leave them any time soon.
One foot in front of the other.
.
.
.
ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Mallen Ant – "Golden Gift" - Feren's pet name for Dafina
Mîr nîn – My treasure
Glawariel – Daughter of Sunlight – Feren's pet name for Alis.
NOTES:
Sindarin phrases courtesy of: /phrasebooks/sindarin/doriath/